Chapter 2

ALINA’S POV

Fate just loved jokes, doesn’t it?

Crazy jokes. Especially ones like this completely laughable situation right here. This very one happening before my eyes, right now!

“Miss Monroe!” A voice called out, snapping me out of my state of shock. That’s what I’m calling it. State of shock. “Are you alright, Miss?”

I blinked. Hard, forcing my eyes away from him and to the one that called me. Cleo not far, a questioning look on her face. “I-I’m fine.” I croaked out, giving a stiff smile. “Sorry. I-I’m fine, perfectly fine.”

Actions beats nerves, so I moved immediately. Setting my bag down on the conference table, trying to act all composed and totally not like the crash out happening inside of me. “Do we start immediately, Sir?”

“Yes. Once you’re settled and ready.” The man replied, taking his seat too. Cleo joining, as did every other person in the room that I didn’t bother taking note of.

You couldn’t blame me though. If you knew what I knew, the absurdity happening here... I mean how could he be here? How could he- how?!

Or was I imagining things?

I glanced again at the head of the table, only to find his eyes already on me. My breath hinged almost instantly, shock waves zapping through me. Literal shock waves! And with it, came memories. Hot sweaty images of that night; my moans, his groans, that gut wrenching pleasure tearing through me. His hands on me, inside of me… “Fuck,” I hissed breathlessly, visibly adjusting on my chair.

Cleo’s eyes found mine, “What’s going with you?” she whispered, setting up her stuff. “Girl, you’re sweating.”

Me?

Sweat? Hell yeah, the room was becoming too damn hot.

Still, “I’m fine,” I lied, plastering that stiff smile that I knew didn’t reach my eyes. Of course she didn’t buy it. But what was she to do? We were here for a contract not for the immoral thoughts the damned green-eyed man on my left was provoking in me.

“Let’s start!” I announced, shooting up from my seat to the podium at the end of the conference table. The opposite side that is. And with one deep breath, I began.

“Good morning. We are representatives of Bold Line Creatives, presenting a vision for Oxygen’s new women’s section. I call it; Temptation.”

The room went dark instantly. Slides blooming up behind me, the only source of light in the room- Cleo’s creation.

This was how we worked. I wrote the concepts and bodywork; she made them seductive on screen. Perfect every time. A two-woman machine, that’s what we are. And always will be. “Okay Alina,” I said to myself, “Time to do what you do best. And no matter what, don’t look at him.”

Don’t.

 With that warning, I faced the slides. All traces of uncertainty and displacement blocked out. The words flowing out of me with clear precision and ease. My eyes moving only to the slides, the other Oxygen representatives and Cleo. Him, nonexistent.

And at the end, “Excellent!” the man from earlier praised. “Nicely done, Miss…

“Alina.” I supplied with a smile.

“I like that you pointed out this new section should have its own unique signature look, separate from the old section. Creates for more exclusivity, and more profits at the end. Love it!”

Bullseye!

I smiled, “So it’s settled? We have a project on our hands now?”

He opened his mouth to answer, but shut it at the end. Turning instead to the head of the table. The same head I had been doing a beautiful job ignoring all this while. “Boss,” he said respectfully, everywhere going silent. All eyes on him now.

And just like that my heart began racing. Not that I waited for his decision, but the fact that I knew I had no choice but to hold his gaze for questioning now. That was bound to happen. He seemed like the final say around here, which was more than crazy to imagine but let’s save that for later first.

“Impressive work,” his voice sounded out. Calm. Low, a rumble underneath. Of which I very much recognized, no doubt in that.

“Thank you,” I said, voice steadier than I’d thought. Nails tight on my documents. Rigid, as I waited. For it. For him. That moment it will all come crashing down and he would laugh in my face.

But surprisingly, the moment never came. “Thank you for coming, we’ll get back to you” he said simply, and pivoted to his staff. Leaving me… well, stunned.

“Excuse me?” the words left my lips without thinking.

He arched an eyebrow, “You’re excused.”

Huh?

My mouth fell open. No words coming out. Pretty sure my features displayed how I felt but he just turned away from me.

Just like that.

Just like- “Girl, let’s pack up.” Cleo hissed, already acting on her words. While I stood there, burning with an entirely different line of thought. Hell, I was confused.

Was that all he would say to me? That’s it?

That’s- does he even recognize me? From that night or… who I was exactly?

“How many more persons are left?” he watched him ask the man that loved my work the most. A slight glance my way. Not a tinge of familiarity or recognition in those green depths. Solidifying the obvious truth;

He didn’t recognize me!

“The hell?” I muttered, baffled. I may have changed over the years, from a size 14 to 10 but seriously? Not even that night? He- I’ve being getting tormented by a night he doesn’t even remember?!

The thought was enough to fuel my distaste for this entire situation. But then again, this was good news, right?

There would be no awkward conversations or explanations. No one wants to bring back the past now, do we?

Or was he pretending? Right now? Why?

Ugh, really hope it was the former though. Would hate any confrontations. Anyone.

“Need to get out of here before that,” I muttered, waving off the thought and joining Cleo. Grabbing my stuff as fast as possible.

So much that I finished before her, that had long been packing. Not good. “You done?” I asked, my bag in hand.

“You’re being weird,” she said after a look. Turning off her projector. “Let’s just go,” I urged, ready to flee. But just then,

“What group are you from again?” his voice called out. My steps halting, “Boldline Creatives, Sir.” Cleo answered without missing a beat.

“And you are?”

Don’t answer Cleo. Don’t- “Cleo, Sir.” She replied, “Cleophina Geller.”

Shoot.

The space went silent then. His eyes on me now for sure. My back, to be more accurate since I was facing the door. So close. “And you?” he called, somehow mocking. “Who are you?”

Great. Just great.

Releasing a breath, I turned around. Eyes meeting his. More stable now compared to my initial stunned self. “Alina.” I said, “Alina Monroe, Sir.”

Something tightened in his face. An unmistakable flicker in his green eyes, making my heart race for a bit. Fearful he recognized me. But still, remained calm. Turning to Cleo, “C’mon, let’s go,”

Her gaze slipped from mine to his. Noting he still had his eyes on me, whereas, I wanted nothing more than to leave. “What’s going on?” Her eyes questioned silently. But I didn’t have time for this. Not now. Not here. Not with that stare on me!

All through my time at the podium, I had felt that stare on me. Hot. Burning, like some drilling device on the side of my face. One which I refused to acknowledge. And now, with his expression like he was trying to solve a puzzle, it didn’t make me feel any better at all. Not a tiny bit.

 I mean, it’s not every day you wake up climaxing to dreams of your ex, who you somehow got yourself involved in a one-night stand barely weeks ago. And now, in a presentation you spent weeks preparing for, he shows up! Looking like the damn boss of everything and just when you think he doesn’t remember shit, he learns your name. And now he’s staring at you like he’s got some brand-new set of eyes!

So yeah, permit me if I’m panicking and want to leave. “Cleo, let’s go!” I called out, turning on heels almost immediately. “Thank you for having us. Hope to hear from you soon.”

But then, “Alina?”

His voice stopped me. I froze, clutching Cleo’s hand tighter. Breath seizing.  “Alina.” He called again. More confident. Cleo stared at me weird now.

“Alin-

“What do you want?” I cut him off, my tone irritated. “You asked us to leave, why are calling my name repeatedly?”

“I have a question.”

“What’s your question?” I threw back, face stern.  

He scoffed, muttering something underneath his breath. “Your name is Alina.”

“Yes, my name is Alina. Alina Monroe.” His eyes stilled again, somehow darkening.

“Did you move to this city recently? Lived abroad perhaps?”

I bristled. Knowing just what he was doing. He obviously recognized my name, was digging for confirmation. That question alone just raised the stakes, but was I about to let him? Even if it didn’t exactly sound reasonable right now, I didn’t want him knowing who I was.

Wanted nothing to do with him. Zero confrontation. Not about before, that night, not even now. Everything that happened was a mistake. A big mistake and I’ll be damned if I let it happen all over again. So, “No.” I replied, tone formal. “Never left the city. Lived my whole life here.”

“Sure about that?”

“Not like it’s your business but yeah. I am sure, Sir.”

His jaw ticked. A shadow of a smirk curving at his lips. “You remind me of someone.” He said slowly, “Same name. Down to your initials.”

Right. No surprise.

“You’re her, aren’t you?” he pressed, gaze piercing. Holding me down, like a predator to prey. “You’re Alina. Alina Monroe. THAT Alina.”

I didn’t say a word, letting his gaze hold mine for a moment. Then, “I am Alina.” I confirmed, allowing him to be surprised. “But I’m not THAT Alina. You’re mistaken, and if that’s all, excuse me.”

With that, I turned on my heels. Pushed the exit door and fleeing from the scene. From him. The cool air of the waiting lobby rushing into my lungs. Cleo behind me like a mad clock. “What was that in there? Wh-

“I’ll tell you later,” I cut her off, wanting to leave first.

“No! tell me now” she hissed, firing hot.

“That’s him,” I said, entering the elevator.

“That’s who?” her face crooked, confused. “Speak in plain language, will you?”

“That’s him, Clo! That’s fucking him.”

“Who?!”

“The man from my dreams! My sex dreams!”

Her eyes widened, “Girl!”