Not a Stranger

GAVIN

Tempting offer, right?

Wrong!

This stranger—I don't even know her name–is a very beautiful woman. She looks hot, and I've been finding it hard to tear my gaze away since I first laid my eyes on her.

The fact that she's hurting makes it even more complicated. Normally, on nights like these, I'm usually prawn to have one night stands with more sober women and move on with my life the next day.

It's not only the fact that my stranger is not sober. There's something about her that has evoked an immense amount of care in me I haven't felt before.

Apart from her astonishing beauty, I have no idea.

After a few seconds of what seems like a staring contest, she smiles and moves backwards.

But that smile is a fake one. It doesn't take a genius to gauge the pain behind it

“I'm sorry,” she says, moving farther away from me, avoiding my gaze.

“I just…” she exhales loudly and stutters again.

“I remembered my ex's betrayal, and I thought I'd feel better saying that…yet it reminded me of him, and it hurt all over again…”

Her shoulders start shaking as tears flow down her cheeks, while she sobs, the pain evident in her voice.

Seeing her like this makes me want to kill someone and I'm having this feeling for the second time in the night. Or third.

I lost count.

I'm never good at consoling anyone but with her, it comes naturally. I move closer and pull her into my arms.

She sobs more as I rub her back, letting her take it all out. Having been a victim, I understand the kind of pain that comes with betrayal. Especially from the people you trusted with your life.

She told me her ex cheated on her with her best friend.

Yeah, betrayal from the people you trusted with your life.

After a while, she slowly breaks the embrace.

“I'm sorry, " she sniffles, looking at part of my hoodie now wet with her tears. I stare down at it and smile. That's nothing.

“It's okay,” I assure her, taking out my handkerchief to wipe the mess on her face. She tries to stop me, but I insist until she gives up on her retaliation.

“Your clothes surely cost a dime, I can't even promise to replace it for you.” She mumbles.

My brows furrow. “Why would you assume that?” I pry.

She scoffs, and takes the nearest seat.

“You said it yourself. You're a celebrity.”

“Public figure,” I correct.

“Same difference. And yes, I know who you are, Gavin Morgan.”

She says my name like she wasn't the nonchalant one when I took off my cap.

I smile in realization. She played me earlier with her nonchalance.

My thoughts must be evident because she smiles again, like she's won something.

“Come on,” she continues. “Even a child who's not been conceived yet, knows who you are.”

We both smile. Now that she's piqued my interest, I sit next to her.

“So why did you act like you didn't know me?” I ask.

“Well, it's not everyday you get to have drinks with the Great Gavin Morgan. I wanted to play along too. And it's not everyday you have Gavin Morgan in your humble apartment.”

“I see,” I nod.

"What, you thought I lived underground?" She asks sarcastically.

"For a moment, yeah," I confess while nodding.

“I think your dual lifestyle is cool. People are used to seeing you in public, with those expensive suits. Who would imagine you in casual clothes, with a cap almost covering your whole face. You looked like a serial killer, no offense.”

“None taken. I'm curious though. Why would you let me come with you if I looked like a serial killer?”

“You told me to trust my gut, and I don't know…something about you makes me feel safe. Might be the tequila in my brain.” She says.

And something about you makes me feel protective, and possessive if I may add. I think.

“That would also mean I've done a good job disguising myself,” I conclude.

She laughs softly. “Don't flatter yourself…Oh, I'm Demi Perez, by the way,” she offers a hand.

I had forgetten that we'd skipped the introduction part.

I respond by shaking it. “And I'm Ga…”

We both laugh in realization. For someone who’d been crying a few seconds ago, her smile is bright and I'd love for her to maintain it.

It doesn't take long before her expression turns dull again.

“What is it?” I ask, with a concerned voice, that's absolutely not normal to me.

“I'm honored to have you in my house. I really am.”

“Oh, do you want me to leave?” I probe.

“No, it's not that…" She stutters. "This is going to sound weird.”

This time she looks me in the eye like she's finally found the courage.

“Can we forget that tonight ever happened?”

For a few seconds, I'm confused, and she must have noticed it.

“Okay, I don't want my actions today to influence tomorrow's outcome,” she explains, and I still don't get it.

“What are you talking about?” I ask.

“This is one big coincidence that I never thought would happen, but I have an interview at Morgan Industries tomorrow.”

“Oh,” I let that sink in.

I smirk in realization. I know exactly what the interview is about. I've been looking for a secretary, since the betrayal of my last one. It's been hard to trust anyone.

We had posted a vacancy on our website, without citing that the secretary was for Gavin Morgan. I had to keep my name out of it, and let them believe that the secretary was for a random executive member.

“Wow, congratulations for securing the interview. I'm sure it wasn't easy. And, I'm not going to let this affect that. Besides, I believe you have the potential to bag the job,” I tell her, earning the most genuine smile.

“That interview has nothing to do with me,” I lie, to make her feel calm.

“I hope my boss will be just as good.” She mumbles.

“I hope so too.”

I stare at her, amused by the coincidence.

I'm still glad no one knows I'm the one looking for a secretary. Otherwise, people would apply for very different reasons. That's how I ended up with an untrustworthy secretary in the first place. This time round, I had planned to be careful with my moves.

I know Demi said to forget about the events of tonight, but how can I? A gorgeous woman just caught my eye.

I plan to tell my best friend to look into her, even though I feel like I can trust her. One can never be sure.

I want nothing but to keep on talking to her, but there's more work to be done.