ELENA

"I swear on my grandfather's grave, if this party is boring I'm never going anywhere with you again." I was yet being pulled by my friends into a lighted place called a club, convinced me that there would be free alcohol.

"I still don't get how you like free alcohol yet your dad can get you anything." One of my friends, Patricia let's out and I scoff.

"That would be like throwing a bomb at him by telling him that I actually drink alcohol, something he has never touched his entire life." I say. My dad is a priest.

"I would say the f word to him but then I don't want to have me in hades, plus he's your dad." Isabella utters, receiving a gasp from me.

By the way, we head to sit on the red sofas of the club in the VIP lounge. Well, we got the VIP tickets since Isabella's boyfriend works here. So, we're busy sitting there and my friends suddenly decides to stand up and dance and I'm like.

"No, I don't dance." As I remain on the sofa, sipping my champagne.

As I take my eyes to the corner, not knowing why. There he is. My eyes meet an amazing figure in a white shirt, an ankle top suit pant with some sneakers and a handsome face looking so nasty already. God, his well shaped beard and hair cut. I don't want to smile, so instead I just look away.

"Mam, your drink." I hear the waitress say to me after I've gulped all my drink.

"Sorry, I did not order another drink." I affirm.

"It's from the man over there." She points at the very same man who caught my gaze once, and I look at him as he raises his hand with a bright smile and I chuckle.

Turning to the waitress, I say. "Tell him not every girl he meets is worth a drink."

After this, I get on my feet with my purse in my hand aiming for the bathroom. But as I pass by the dance floor, Patricia pulls me to dance. Without willing to let me go and holding me tight in her grip, she and Isabella force me to move to their every step like a lunatic.

"I think I'm gonna throw up." That's how I escape their dance, by running to the bathroom.

To my surprise, a few minutes after I have entered the bathroom the door slowly slides open. My eyes remain at the door, waiting to see whoever walks through but I chuckle as it walks in the guy to buy me a drink. He closes the door behind him as I fold my arms before my chest.

"Sorry, this is the ladies' bathroom." Incase he has not noticed, I say. But the guy seems too cool, not the one to mess with. Probably top rated in bed, but I am not falling for his charming face.

"I'm aware." He asserts, and I nod slowly. "I just came to give you this." He stretches out his arm to give me a card. His numbers, even specified that it's private.

"Mr Harris." I read out, trying to process where I've heard the name before but this is before he approaches and whispers something in my ear...

"I'll wait for you at the back door." And he leaves the bathroom.

I look at the card as I twist it in my hand, trying to recall the name but Patricia and Isabella barge in, having me startled as I even drop the card but eventually quickly pick it up.

"Girl, you're here!" She exclaims as she pulls me to leave the bathroom, "The party is outside this bathroom, not in it." She continues.

The next thing I am dancing on stage, which is the part of me I did not know I have. Never done this before. Out of the clean dark sky full of stars, I find myself dancing before the 'Mr Harris'. I turn to look at him and to my concern I fall in the trap of his eyes, which is something I promised myself I would not.

Out of curiosity, I find myself in a hotel room kissing him endlessly. He becomes all over me, my neck and he takes of his shirt, revealing his abs with tattoos all over his upper body. Okay, for once. I do not think I am going to regret this night. I caress his abs slowly with my medium heightened gel nails , and my Jaws are literally on the ground.

JUSTIN

-7Am

"Lord, Jesus. I am late for work." I whisper to myself as I have just woke up to check the time on my phone.

As I am about to jump off the bed, I look at the beauty sleeping beside me. Her long curled brown hair that replays last night. Where has she been all along? Such a beauty! I stare at her while sleeping, so cute I feel like biting her pink lips. My eyes shoot open of shock when she opens her brown eyes and they catch the blazing sun in a mesmerising way.

She sits up straight immediately, covering herself as she shifts a little further from me on the bed. I look at her unbelievably cause I was very much aware last night that she was not drunk, so she cannot call what happened a mistake.

"No good morning?" I ask.

"Oh." She let's out, looking around. "HI." She continues, scratching her head like she's trying to rethink.

I approach her as she remains still, shook of course and I look into her eyes. Never have I ever known that it is so to die for to look into the eyes of a wonderful woman like this first thing in the morning. I go for her neck before she could utter a word, and she starts clinging onto the white duvet trying to hold in her moans.

"I should get home, I've got work and I'm late." She puts excuses on the bed.

"I'm late too, but I don't mind." I whisper to her as I seal her lips with a kiss.

I've been in a one night stand, and this one is far from it. I just woke up beside this girl, and I am making love to her again in the morning before heading for work. Which is not what a one night stand is called, this is called wanting more and more.

-LATER ON

I had asked my assistant to send me an outfit to the same hotel after I had my driver take the lady home, and I am yet realizing that I did not get her name. I groan as I cover my face with my hand, like. Could I have been that stupid?

As I am busy thinking about the girl, Bridget  storms into my office. Her face red of anger I can notice from afar, and the pressure of her stilleto heels on my glass tiles is not good at all. I roll my eyes as I pick up any file from my table, placing it before my face just to get away from her face and the words that are ought to come out of her mouth.

"Where were you last night?" She shouts.

I clear my throat, "At work." I simply reply, even turning the page of the file like I am interested.

"So you wouldn't pick up your phone?" She inquires, and I scoff.

"I was in a meeting, Bridget!" I raise my voice.

"Why did you not tell me?" She continues her questioning, and this time I throw the file back on my table.

"I'm sorry." I yell. "I didn't know I had to report to you like a little baby. You are not my wife, Bridget. The sooner you realize that I'm only doing you mercy because of my dad the better." I stand up from my chair when continuing.

"Close the door on your way out, I have a meeting to get to." I leave her in my office.

Passing by the reception after stepping out of the elevator, all I am getting is polite greetings and severe bowing at my passing. What do you expect? I am the CEO and rightful owner of HCP (Harris' Creativity Pays). JustiN Harris. Only son and in my mid twenties. I get to the receptionist to inform her of my not being available in the company for a while.

"I also wanted to let you know that the list of the interviewees for the face of the HCP is tomorrow at noon." The humble receptionist says. Right.

"Okay, Clara. I'll see if I'll have time for that, but please do remind Lisa." Lisa is my assistant's name.

I step out of the company's building, and my driver drops me at a coffee shop in town to meet my lifelong friend, Vincent. Who works as a CEO at an interior design company just a few miles from here, and him and I met in college doing the same course.

"And the girl you left with?" Vincent asks, and a sudden smile appears on my face. We have already started our little conversation. "Oh my goodness, you like her already!" He exclaims.

"Like is too big. I don't want to talk about it, atleast not now." I utter. "Tell me, is that what you called me here to meet for?" I continue.

"Well, no." He replies. "My company is just facing a financial loss after that false transactions, there's no enough money to pay the employees." He trails off. I sigh.

"You know what, I'll talk to my dad and see if we could lend you a loan. A brother always helps another brother." I say, and we both stand up as he gives me a manly hug. "Meet me at the same club to celebrate this later on." I proceed, and Vincent fleshes me a naughty smile.

"You want to see her again, okay." He raises his hands up the air.

I get back to work, sit with Lisa as we discuss some few things and then we head to a meeting around 3pm which ends at 5pm. I head straight to the club after work, not even wanting to think about Bridget.

I do not know why, but I was expecting the lady from yesterday to be here at the club but she becomes nowhere to be found until midnight and I have been drinking myself up until I am drunk. My driver takes me home around 2am, and I can barely even walk on my own as the poor guy even helps me to my room.

I notice Bridget walk in a few minutes later, in her gown as she approaches me. She tries to touch me but as much as i am drunk, I decline her contact.

"Get out of my room, Bridget." I say as tired as I am, forcing my drunk self under the duvet. "Where are you?" I continue to myself.

I catch a glance of my sleep for a short period of time with my black shirt unbuttoned before my door is barged open and my tired eyes shoot open. I cannot even see properly, but the people I grew up around I can tell even with my eyes closed. It's my mom and dad, Bridget must have told them about my state. Even though I can't see them clearly, but my dad's fury I can sense.

"Justin!" My dad yells. I'm pretty sure the whole neighborhood just heard that. I cover my ears from the headache his loud voice is causing.

"Hi to you too, dad." I groan. "Mom, always a pleasure to see you." I smile towards my mom who has always been able to make me smile and support me at all times.

"You're about to get married, get yourself some common sense." My dad storms out of the room with Bridget behind her, and I close my eyes yet again.

This time I am woken up by my mother's touch, caressing my arms and I feel like just sulking at an old age of 25. Instead, I decide to turn to lean on her shoulder.

"I met the girl I want to marry, mom." I say. "But I don't know her name." I start to sound like I am ought to cry.

"Shh." My mom let's out. "It's going to be okay, we'll find her. I'm glad you found a girl you love my son, I'm happy for you." She continues. As if father would agree to my words easily like mom.