3 weeks later
💃Jessa's POV💃
I hurl my pillow at the wall and toss the blanket to the floor as I scramble to find my phone. It's barely six a.m.—the sun is just starting to rise—but there's no way I'm going to be late for the clinic. I'm never late for work.
I can't even remember the last time I had a proper night's sleep—eight full hours of uninterrupted peace… Or wait, I actually can. Ever since the incident three weeks ago, I haven't been able to sleep right. Every time I close my eyes or let my mind wander, I'm bombarded with memories of that night. That unforgettable, all-consuming night. I'm haunted—day and night—by that mesmerizing pair of icy blue eyes.
Fine. I get it. It's normal to think about it—it was my first time, after all. Of course I'm not going to forget how it felt. But being this obsessed? That's not normal. He probably wouldn't even recognize me if we passed each other on the street, while I… I'm here fantasizing about him, replaying every stolen second like some desperate addict. Seconds that would've made me blush just thinking about them before I met him.
"Get a grip, Jessa!" I groan, dragging my feet toward the shower.
I have to forget. I have to move on.
I make it to the clinic in under half an hour.
A small, satisfied smile tugs at my lips as I slip on my white coat, proud of myself for beating my personal record.
My boss, Mrs. Carter—a kind woman and an incredibly warm person, Mrs. Carter always shows up after me. But it's not like I see myself as some overly ambitious workaholic. I just genuinely love what I do, and that's why I'm so eager when it comes to my job.
I've never been the type to hide in the break room or sneak in long, pointless breaks just to avoid work. So, as always, I get straight to it. I know Brutus—the little pup we operated on yesterday—is still in recovery, so I head straight to his kennel to check on him first. I'm also in charge of his treatment, which means I have to make sure he gets his meds right on time.
"Hey, buddy"
Still groggy from the anesthesia and pain meds, Brutus doesn't get up, but he wags his tail the moment he senses I've entered the room. I run my fingers gently through his glossy fur and feel my shoulders begin to loosen. There's something so healing about this simple, silent bond. I've always loved animals—deeply, instinctively.
My poor parents had to adjust to a house filled with life: four dogs, three cats, and sometimes more, especially when I'd find strays on the street and just couldn't resist bringing them home. I miss them all terribly—little Cherry, rescued from a shelter, Baxter, saved from a careless owner who was ready to dump him, sweet Wendy, and wild, joyful Gotye. Not to mention my overly affectionate, clingy cats: Simba, Milo, and Angel.
As much as I'd love to have them here with me, there's simply no space. Our apartment barely fits me, Cassey, and Selena as it is—our stuff has practically taken over every square inch. And honestly, I wouldn't want to stress the pets by moving them from the roomy, familiar home they've always known into a cramped apartment. Besides, my mom calls me all the time to give me updates.
Yes, I'm that weirdo who actually asks how the pets are doing.
"Welcome to my world! We have cookies."
"You're already here?" Mrs. Carter's voice cuts through the silence, her car keys still dangling from her hand as she walks in, surprised to find me there so early.
"Yeah. I didn't have anything else to do, so I came in early…"
She laughs with playful irony and gives me that look—half amused, half disapproving.
"Jessa, I'm waiting for the day you show up ridiculously late, hair a mess, throwing on your coat, and saying: 'Sorry I'm late, some guy held me up!'" she teases, lifting her brows. "Sweetheart, you're not getting any younger. It's time you found yourself a man. You've been single for way too long."
I resist the urge to roll my eyes. I'm still young, for God's sake, and marriage isn't even on my radar for at least another five years! Before that, I want to find someone who shakes me so deeply, I can't breathe without him…
Like that guy from that night…
"Not again," I mutter under my breath, growling low and annoyed.
"Excuse me?" my boss asks, a little startled, maybe even concerned.
"No, I mean, uh… I'm not…" I stammer, waving it off before I can embarrass myself further.
Was no one fond of Robert? I admit he wasn't the most social guy when it came to my friends, which made him unlikable in their eyes, but he wasn't exactly unbearable either! He was my first boyfriend, and at the beginning, I really liked him. In the beginning.
"Oh, right. That Robert. How's he doing?" she asks, visibly irritated but also bored of hearing his name.
He keeps calling, and I keep ignoring his calls and messages, explaining without emotion in my voice. He even tried to come to my place, but I refused to see him…
"Good for you," she says, her tone more energetic. "That guy doesn't deserve you. You need someone much more impressive, someone who knows how to appreciate you completely."
I raise my eyebrows, confused. A guy who will appreciate me completely? Last time I checked, I was just a simple girl who spends her weekends in front of the TV, who hates it when pizza is late on a Saturday night, and who would rather walk barefoot on the street than wear any of those shoes from the fashion shows I sometimes watch on TV. I don't see much to appreciate…
"Jessa, you're blind!" she says. "You're incredibly beautiful, and you have a good heart. You're loving, hardworking, level-headed, and intelligent. Any man would be lucky to have you!"
I blush and silently thank my phone for interrupting this awkward moment. I'm not good at receiving compliments. Plus, I don't feel like I deserve them, not even for a second. It's just not how I see myself.
"It's Serena," I say, glancing at the screen somewhat surprised.
This is strange. She's never called me from work before. She is serious and calculated, always telling me how much she hates when her colleagues waste time on the phone to avoid work—which ends up falling on her shoulders. So, it's safe to say it's a bit weird that she's calling me…
"Answer it. I'm going to check on our patient," she says, grabbing her lab coat and heading towards the room where Brutus is.
"What's up, girl?" I respond cheerfully.
Since it's the first time she's called me from work, I might as well try to stay optimistic!
"Jessa, I have some important news!" Her voice sounds serious, but there's also a hint of alarm.
"Lay it on me!" I giggle impatiently, hiding the feeling that something doesn't seem quite right.
"You know the party my boss is throwing for the kids with leukemia?"
"Yeah, I remember you mentioned something about it," I reply calmly, trying to recall the moment when she told me about it. "Isn't that the party where you'll be auctioning women off like simple objects?" I ask, somewhat horrified.
It's a charity event, to raise as much money as possible, Selena's boss came up with the idea to auction off "dates" with a series of "beautiful girls." She picks some models who look decent enough, dresses them ridiculously—and mostly indecently—and then puts them on stage to be "sold" for a "dinner" in exchange for large sums of money. Maybe I'm wrong, but "prostitution" seems to be the right word for that… Who would want to have dinner with some rich guy who can't keep his hands to himself and will talk about nothing but himself? Definitely not me.
"Well, hold on tight, because…" I said to my boss that you'd agree to be one of the girls auctioned off.
"What did you do!?" I yell, completely caught off guard.
Mrs. Carter's face appears, confused and shocked, peering in from behind the door, but I ignore her as I process the terrible news over and over. This can't possibly be true!
"Jessa, please! One of the girls broke her leg and we can't find a replacement."
"And you seriously couldn't find anyone else? Why not Lacy!?"
Never, but NEVER will I agree to such 'activities'. How can you raise money for charity by offering dates with women who've been primped and prepped solely for that purpose? One word keeps echoing in my mind, no matter how hard I try to convince myself otherwise: prostitution!
"Okay, maybe a kind of noble prostitution… What the hell is wrong with me?!"
"She's busy with the field trip for the middle school kids that night, remember?"
I let out a loud sigh and close my eyes to process the whole situation. I don't want to do this. I really, REALLY don't, but I can't disappoint Serena. She and Lacy are like sisters to me, and I know they would do the same if they were in my place…
"Serena, I don't want any guy who throws money around wherever he steps and thinks he can take advantage of me," I state seriously, my tone harsh.
"Of course not. They're only allowed to hold your hand. Perfectly normal and acceptable," she says professionally, with confidence.
"I'm sure I'll regret this, but…"
"Fine. I agree," the words slip out, my voice defeated.
"Thank you so much, Jessa! I owe you one, and I promise everything will turn out fine!" She ends the call before I can even respond.
Why do I have a feeling it won't?
🕺Kane's POV🕺
I've finished these reports, and since the trip to Russia has to be postponed, I'm once again left without anything to occupy my mind.
"I should have brought more files home…"
Now, I'm free to think about her again.
I open my laptop, frustrated, and re-watch the footage of her from the moment she left the building. Her beautiful face isn't clearly visible, because, for some unknown reason, she seemed to be looking only down, and aside from a few seconds of her being filmed before she got into a taxi, there's nothing else. I have no information about her. Not a single thing!
I've tried everything! Apparently, no one at the bar where I met her had ever seen her before, and since I know nothing about her, nothing except how passionate she is between the sheets, I've had no luck finding her.
I hate this! For the first time in my life, I feel useless. I can't even find a woman who left my place the way she came in. Of her own accord.
I don't know why, and I don't know how, but she's responsible for how I feel now. I can't sleep, I can't work – "Christian Cross, the man with a heart of ice, can't work because of a woman." I even refused to see Blaire, because it seems that no woman is "interesting enough" to me since that night.
Wherever I look in the apartment, it seems like I can see her, and every time I close my eyes, I can't help but think about how good it felt to have her in my arms, her body pressed against mine, her scent enveloping my senses. As if she was made just for me.
"Who are you?" I whisper, analyzing the silhouette in the red dress from the picture.
But then my phone rings, distracting me. I glance at the screen and frown.
"Mom, this isn't a good time," I growl, irritated by the interruption.
I really don't have the patience to listen to her complain about me not visiting more often and how she hasn't seen me in so long. I care about my family, and aside from money, they're all I have, but that doesn't change my cold, distant nature. That's just who I am, and I can't change it. I won't change it.
"Hello, darling," she answers, chuckling, as cheerful as ever.
"I need to get back to work. What's up?" I say in a calmer tone.
I hear her sigh in frustration, instantly piquing my curiosity. Or maybe just my annoyance. I really don't have the patience for one of her "parenting" speeches. Plus, I hate being told what to do. No one tells Christian Cross what to do.
"Kane, I wish you would take a break from all that work every once in a while. Luckily, I have a party you can go to!"
Hah! Nice try! Now I know what's coming. Classic mom. When she gets tired of dragging dad to all her snooty friends' parties, she sends me instead.
That is, if she manages to convince me. Which doesn't happen often.
"I can't. I don't have time for fun," I reply, my tone short and cold.
"Kane, please. It's a charity event, and it won't be that bad… They're auctioning off dates with beautiful girls," she tries to sound convincing.
I sigh and let my gaze drift back to the screen.
"Well, if you can assure me that I'll find the woman who's been torturing my mind ever since I met her at your party, then I'll go."
"I don't need to pay for the company of a beautiful woman, and I'm not sure if I'm free. I'll have my assistant check my schedule," I try to excuse myself, hoping to slip out of her trap easily.
"No. Just go to the party. I'm sure you'll have fun. Maybe you'll even get attached to the girl you'll be bidding on," she giggles again.
"Fat chance."
Fine, this will be one of those rare moments where I'll give in and make mom happy. But only because she'll keep nagging me if I don't agree next time we meet.
Anyway, as long as she — the one who left without a trace from my house, but not from my mind — remains lost, I have to try to focus on other things.
"Fine, you've won. I'll go. Are you happy now?" I say, defeated, accepting that I don't stand a chance against her.
"Thank you, my dear. I'll send the details to your assistant," she says cheerfully, ending the call.
"It seems like it's going to be a party after all…"