She looked around—thick drapes, coloured walls, expensive furniture, and a bedside table holding her handbag and shoes.
"Okay, okay… This is not my apartment," she muttered.
Then it hit her.
"The club! And the gas man!" She gasped and quickly pulled back the duvet, checking herself.
The top is still on, the jeans are still zipped, and the shoes are off. There are no suspicious marks.
"No funny business," she whispered and sighed in relief. "I must've really passed out."
She stood up and tiptoed across the room like a sneaky cat, still unsure of what kind of place she was in.
Then she noticed a notepad on the desk with a pen besides it. Without thinking twice, she scribbled:
"Thank you for not taking advantage of a drunk girl. I hope to repay you someday."
— Venus."
As she dropped the pen, her phone buzzed again.
A message: "Your cab is outside."
She blinked. "He even paid for my cab?"
Just then, there was a soft knock on the guest room door.
She opened it gently and found an older gentleman standing there with a soft smile and kind eyes—Pa Alfred, dressed in a neat butler uniform.
"Good morning, Miss Venus. I'm Alfred. Your ride is waiting downstairs."
Venus smiled. "Ah! You must be the grandfather of the house."
Pa Alfred chuckled. "Something like that, ma'am."
"I hope I didn't snore like a lawn mower last night."
"Only just a little," he teased.
Venus laughed, stepping out. "Don't judge me, sir. You see, yesterday, I was just trying to celebrate a small miracle with a big mood."
"Well, the house survived," Alfred said with a grin. "So I think it went just fine."
They walked down the wide hallway together. "Tell your boss—or whoever owns this fancy crib—that he's got a heart of gold. He could've left me drooling on a club couch."
"I'll pass the message," Pa Alfred said.
Venus winked. "Next time, I'll try to get drunk with more dignity."
Alfred opened the door. "You're welcome here anytime, Miss Venus."
She stepped into the waiting cab and gave him a salute. "Thank you, sir. And tell whoever's cooking in this house that I smell breakfast and I'm jealous."
With that, the door shut, and the cab pulled out of the driveway, taking her back to her reality… for now.
Venus stepped into the foyer of her grandmother's home, sunlight streaming through the tall windows as the door clicked shut behind her.
She barely had time to exhale before a familiar voice echoed from the kitchen.
"Venus Phillips, do you want to explain why you didn't come home last night?"
Venus winced and slid her heels off. "Good morning, Grandma ."
Katherine appeared in the hallway wearing a plush burgundy robe, her silver-grey hair swept neatly into a bun.
Her arms were crossed and her expression was firm, but her eyes—those ever-perceptive eyes—were filled with concern more than anger.
"You didn't call. You didn't text. I had to hear from a man who answered your phone that you had passed out at a nightclub."
Venus blinked. "Wait… you spoke with him?"
Katherine raised a brow. "Is that a bad idea?" He said he was a friend. Sounded polite. Well-mannered. But also far too comfortable speaking on behalf of my granddaughter."
Venus groaned and dropped onto the living room couch, tossing her bag besides her. "Oh God. He actually answered. I must've been more drunk than I thought."
"I should say so." Her grandmother came to sit besides her. "You were always the responsible one. What happened?"
"I went to celebrate the new job, had one drink too many, and he... he offered to help. I didn't want to take a cab, so he took me to his place. His butler prepared a guest room. Nothing happened, I promise."
Katherine looked at her for a long moment, then sighed. "Well, at least you're safe. But Venus, please—if you're going to be out late, I need to know where you are. Not from a stranger, but from you."
Venus leant into her grandma's shoulder. "I'm sorry. I'll be better. I promise."
Her grandmother patted her hand. "Good. Because today's a big day—we're moving."
Later that afternoon, the moving truck pulled up in front of their new apartment complex in Midtown Atlanta, not far from Venus's new office.
The building was sleek and modern, with glass balconies and a stylish lobby that smelled like fresh paint and lavender.
As soon as they entered the apartment, Venus stopped in the centre of the living room and turned slowly in a circle.
"Wow," she breathed. "This is like a dream."
High windows bathed the space in golden light. The furniture was minimalist but elegant—cream sofas, black and gold accents, and polished wood floors.
A welcome packet rested on the kitchen island, next to a vase of fresh tulips.
Katherine smiled, impressed. "I have to say again, they didn't cut corners. This is high-end."
Venus opened a sliding door to the walk-in closet in her room. "I feel like I'm living someone else's life."
"Well," her grandmother replied, walking into the kitchen to put away the groceries they brought, "you earned it. Now let's cook something and make this place smell like home."
They made grilled salmon with lemon-dill rice and sautéed asparagus, music playing softly in the background.
Venus danced around the kitchen in socks while her grandmother handled the seasoning with the precision of a Michelin-star chef.
By evening, their new home smelled like comfort and fresh beginnings.
On Sunday morning, Venus popped her head into the kitchen with a toothbrush still in her mouth and foam on her chin.
"Grandma," she mumbled through the paste, "if I don't return by dinner, know that I died trying to look fabulous."
Grandma Katherine didn't even look up from her crossword. "Salon?"
"Buckhead. The fancy one where they treat you like royalty—if royalty paid too much for shampoo," Venus said, rushing back towards the bathroom.
She visited a high-end salon in Buckhead, where she got her hair silk-pressed and her nails painted a sophisticated blush-pink.
"I start work on Monday," she told the stylist. "First impressions matter."
"You're going to turn heads," the stylist said with a grin. "You look like you own the place already."
Venus laughed, but there was a quiet determination behind her smile. "That's the goal."
When she returned home later that afternoon, her grandmother looked up from the newspaper and raised an approving eyebrow.
"Well, well. You look sharp."
"I feel sharp," Venus replied. "And I'm going to stay that way. No more drama. I'm going to be organised, focused, and completely put together."
"Good," Grandma Katherine said with a small nod. "Because that job of yours is just the beginning."
That night, Venus set her alarm for 5:30 a.m. and went to bed early. Despite the nerves fluttering in her chest, she slept soundly.
At 5:45 a.m. the next morning, she was up—dressed in a tailored white blouse tucked into a soft rose pencil skirt. Her heels were nude, her hair sleek, and her makeup minimal but elegant.
She stood in front of the mirror, smoothing the front of her blouse and giving herself a quick once-over.
"You've got this," she whispered.
Katherine glanced at her glowing granddaughter and smirked. "Are you planning to impress your boss or seduce him?"
Venus gasped dramatically. "Both! But only if he's tall, single, and emotionally available."
By 7:30 a.m., she had already had breakfast with her grandmother and was heading to the parking garage where her company-issued car, a black Lexus SUV, waited.
She slipped behind the wheel, adjusted her seat, and started the engine.
Her phone pinged with a calendar reminder: First day at Copeland & Co., 9:00 a.m. Don't be late.
She smiled, tightened her grip on the steering wheel, and pulled out of the garage, the city slowly waking around her.
The streets of Atlanta stretched ahead, full of promise.
She had no idea what surprises the office, and her new boss, had in store.