The Envelope

Eve woke up with a hangover.

The banging headache prevented her from opening her eyes at first, coupled with the bright sun forcing its way into the curtains.

Curtains?

The thought of the unfamiliarity of her environment had Eve opening her eyes, and her eyes darted to the giant wall clock and the paintings on the wall.

It was past eight o'clock in the morning, and she was in a hotel.

"Fuck..." Eve muttered beneath her breath and quickly threw put the duvet.

A sigh of relief escaped her lips when she discovered that she was still very much clothed.

But did that guarantee anything?

She forced herself to sit upwards despite the headache and blindly reached for her phone on the nightstand.

But her hand made contact with some pills and a glass of water.

She opened her eyes fully to a familiar writing on a paper.

'You can take the day off, I'll take care of your meetings today, Leo.'

Right. The hazy memory of Leo carrying her into the hotel room flooded her brain.

Along with the stark r