CHAPTER 4

“Quick! Hide under the table!” 

I swiftly grabbed my pants and my torn shirt on the floor as I crawled my way to a larger table on the other side. As I struggled to fit myself underneath, I watched as Spencer rolled behind the nearest smoke machine. 

The main lights in the studio turned on, as the sounding footsteps grew louder following the banging of the metal doors. 

Two men walked towards the stage, which was only about three meters away from the table where I was hiding under. 

“Are you sure they will be holding the shoot here?” One man said, his voice deep and crisped. 

“I heard so. I was actually shocked they moved it today. It was supposedly on Friday,” the other one answered. 

From where I was hiding, I saw how close the feet of one crew was to me. It was so close that one single dock and I’d be busted. 

“Can you help me move this table?”

When I heard those words, my heart stopped pounding. If they were talking about the table I’m hiding underneath, then I’d be as good as dead.

I casted a sharp look toward Spencer, and I noticed that he was already suited up. How did he manage to get his clothes back on without being noticed? 

He was still behind the giant smoke machine, contemplating if he should reveal himself or not. But the moment he saw the crews about to lift the table where I hid, he hurriedly made a scene. 

Spencer cleared his throat. “What’s happening here?” 

“A Director of a primetime show wants to use this studio for later’s shoot, boss,” One crew reasoned out, dropping the side of the table he already lifted. 

Spencer raised his eyebrows, his hair disheveled. “Without my permission? Which director is this?” 

The two bloke men only looked at each other without an answer. 

“I figured.” Spencer smirked. “Get out of the studio. No one’s using this without my permission. Tell that to your Director.”

Upon hearing his command, the crews left. When they made it out of the studio, Spencer helped me get up on my feet. 

“Phew! That was close,” I murmured. 

With disappointment painted all over his face, Spencer only looked at me in the eyes. “Better luck next time. See you at my Dad’s funeral.” 

——————— 

It had been two days since I last saw my boss. Ever since that incident inside the studio where we almost got caught hooking up, I never received any texts from him in the app. I thought he was ignoring me. But then I remembered maybe he was just busy with his dad's funeral and all the stuff going on in the company. 

I was confused with how the funeral party looked more of a retirement celebration for the founder of the SPA Network Corporation. Everyone was dressed black, yes, but none of them seemed to be grieving. In fact all had nothing but a glass of champagne in their hands. 

This was the first time I set foot on the property of the Johnsons. They were indeed crazy rich. Their front yard alone was so big you'd need to ride a golf cart in order to get from one side to another. Despite the vastness of it, visitors seemed to manage to fill up the place. Maybe because today's the last day of Mr. Julius Johnson's wake. 

I sat on one of the empty seats of the table nearest to the gate when my dating app suddenly vibrated. 

*SOMEONE SWIPED YOU RIGHT.  TAP TO VIEW* 

For a second, I thought it was Spencer. I honestly wanted it to be Spencer. But the brown eyes, freckled nose, and coffee-colored complexion told me otherwise. 

It was a different guy. One I hadn't seen before. 

I swiped him right. 

*YOU'RE NOW A MATCH*

As soon as I clicked his profile, a message flashed on the screen. 

“Thanks for liking me back :)” 

Seeing the little happy face by the end of his message made me stifle a smile. 

“It's not a big deal,” I texted back. 

“I'm assuming you work for the Johnsons :)” 

“How did you know?” I asked, a little skeptical. 

“It's the distance that's throwing you off. The app says you're within one hundred meters, so I assume you're also here at the funeral party? :)” 

“Oh, right. So you are here too?” 

“Yup.” He replied. And that was the last message I got from him before he went offline in the app. 

After a few seconds of standing awkwardly on the left wing of the mansion, I decided to take some food from the buffet dine. A line had practically been forced to control the traffic of the mourners. While on my way to insert myself to the last person on the line, a hand suddenly grabbed me midway. 

A man in off-white blazers layered on top of a plain, black shirt insisted I stood before him. He was tall, probably 6’2, and his skin was just overwhelmingly glowing. His mustache, clean-shaved. His brown hair, perfectly brushed down. 

“Insert here instead,” he said in a voice that was so cold and so deep that it turned heads for a second. 

I quickly shook my hand off in awkwardness. “Grabbing my hand was unnecessary,” I replied, although I really did insert in front of him on the line. 

Moving on, I finished filling my plate up with food. I went back to the only table with a vacant seat I saw, which was unfortunately the same table where the tall snow-white guy was sitting. We ate across each other, trying to avoid gazes until we could— it didn’t last long. 

“So, why are you here? Are you a relative perhaps?” I asked when my plate was cleared. 

“Not quite.” The guy wiped his mouth with a napkin. “But the Johnsons and I are, let’s say, mutual businessmen.” He smiled. 

“Oh, I didn’t know the Johnsons have business partners,” I said suspiciously. 

“I didn’t say we’re business partners.”

“What are you then?” 

“We work in the same industry. There, it’s easier that way.” 

A short silence brushed between us. Sunken to the rippling questions in my head, I picked the most common one to throw to him. 

“So, if you don’t mind me asking, what is your name by the way?” 

The guy in front of me looked up, but just when I thought he was about to answer my question, a man, one that closely looked more of a chauffeur, called him from behind. 

He looked back and stood up, and the man whispered something to his ear. 

“Sorry, I gotta go!” 

I don’t know what that was all about, but it must have been something so important that he had to leave the table immediately and abandon my question like a bubble popped in the air.