I swiftly exit the taxi, my hair likely disheveled due to my hurried run. My heart tightens as I see Eric Harper enter the restaurant, taking with him all my chances of finally realizing my dream of becoming a reporter after four long years as an assistant at "Glamour" magazine. I had hoped this article would be my breakthrough opportunity, but Eric Harper isn't nicknamed the Cold Wolf of New York for no reason. All my interview requests have been consistently rejected.

When I saw him leave his office earlier than usual, I couldn't help but follow him, and fortunately, it paid off as the most eligible bachelor of the year has a date, a golden scoop.

However, I arrived too late. I approach the entrance guarded by menacing-looking security guards and lean against a wall, sighing. I cross my arms, pondering how to get in and whether I'll have to wait here until the end of the meeting when one of the guards in a James Bond-worthy suit and tie approaches me.

I raise my head, sighing.

__ I know, private property. I mutter as I turn around, only to be stopped by the second guard.

He hangs up the phone and steps towards me, a polite smile on his lips.

__ Miss Thorne, you've arrived.

I raise a surprised eyebrow. But not knowing how to respond, I simply stare at them like an idiot. The first guard steps aside to let me in.

__ Mr. Harper is waiting for you on the rooftop.

I furrow my brows, finally grasping the situation. Eric Harper's infamous meeting is with Angela Thorne. The mayor's troubled daughter who went away to rehab some time ago. So, she's back now. And these guys think I'm her?

I quickly glance at my outfit. It's a pretty classy dress, the kind you keep in your closet for a lifetime, hoping to wear it one day. The thought of meeting the great Eric Harper made me so anxious that I felt compelled to dress carefully. But not to the extent of being mistaken for that rich kid. Unless my tousled hair sounds "toxic" to them.

__ Hurry up. We can't have the press storming in here, Miss Thorne.

I nod, still somewhat lost, and follow one of the guards inside the upscale restaurant. We walk through the empty room until we reach the elevator.

__ Go all the way up. He commands, pressing a button.

The doors close as I try to think calmly.

These guys think I'm Angela Thorne. But I'm not Angela Thorne. I'm Ella Gale. And what if Eric finds out and sues me for fraud? What if Angela finds out and sues me for identity theft?

I get lost in these worrying thoughts, already envisioning a downward spiral. But suddenly, the elevator doors open, bringing me back to reality. I look up at the clear sky, where the stars shimmer with a magical glow, and with the view from this rooftop, the artificial stars of the lampposts radiate. It's such a romantic atmosphere.

My gaze settles upon Eric Harper, seated at a beautifully adorned table, a bouquet of roses reigning at its center. His eyes are glued to his phone, and his brown hair, lightly brushing against his ears reddened by the summer's coolness, makes him even more attractive than in the magazines.

As our eyes meet, I can see a flicker of surprise in his eyes. He rises eagerly, clumsily attempting to adjust his tie, then approaches me.

__ I... Miss Thorne! I am Eric Harper.

I raise an eyebrow, taken aback by his response, uncharacteristic of the brilliant businessman I've heard about in the media.

He extends his hand, but just as I extend mine to shake it, he pulls back and hurries to retrieve the bouquet of roses.

__ Roses for a rose.

I suppress a laugh at this kitschy line and accept the bouquet with a sly smile. I let him guide me to the table, taking my seat with a slight unease.

I observe him with a curious gaze as I search for something to say. I can hear two little angelic and devilish creatures whispering. Should I tell him the truth and seek an arrangement? Or should I take advantage of this to get the best article in the world? I bite my lower lip when his voice resonates again.

__ Honestly, I was starting to worry you wouldn't come. He says with a shy smile.

My heart beats faster at the sight of that angelic smile. Who cares about ending up in prison? I have a date with Eric Harper!

I clear my throat and cross my arms.

__ I said I would come, so here I am. I retort with the snobbiest tone I can muster.

Working as an assistant has its perks. I'm used to having to improvise all the time, and furthermore, I've already attended an interview with Angela Thorne.

__ I'm sorry, you're right. He apologizes, looking uncomfortable.

__ What are you doing, Eric? Am I not pretty enough for you to look at?

He seems surprised but quickly straightens up. I give a amused smile. He actually fell for it.

__ Actually, this might surprise you, but it's my first date.

Well, that's surprising indeed. The most eligible bachelor in the city has never been on a date? The tabloids would have a field day.

__ Never? Why?

He shrugs, embarrassed.

__ Work has always been my priority, and before I knew it, time flew by.

I raise an eyebrow. It's true that becoming a billionaire at the age of 26 requires determination and making certain sacrifices. He takes a sip of his wine.

__ So, are you a virgin?

He almost chokes on his drink and coughs, his napkin covering his mouth.

__ Your question caught me off guard. He mumbles. I... And you?

I furrow my brows and cross my arms.

__ It's impolite to ask that of a lady.

__ But you asked me the same question. He retorts.

I shrug.

__ It's different.

He opens his mouth but sighs instead. I discreetly smile. How come the media portrays him as a cold wolf? He's more like an adorable puppy.

__ So, Miss Thorne, did you have a good trip?

I squint my eyes. This isn't how it's supposed to go. I'm the one who should be asking questions.

__ Yes. I cross my arms. Since you're asking questions, can I ask some too, right?

He seems to think about it and nods. I smirk and take out my notepad from my pocket.

__ Are you going to jot down my answers?

I remove the pen cap.

__ Not to forget. It's important not to forget things from the first date. I sigh. Is it really your first date?

He nods, looking slightly unconvinced, but he seems to get into the game.

__ A few months ago, you signed a major contract with a construction company but canceled two weeks before the scheduled date. This cost you a significant amount of money. Why did you cancel, and if I may ask, how much was lost?

__ Quite detailed, Miss Thorne.

I lift my gaze, searching for an appropriate response.

__ Understanding the motivations behind decisions helps to understand the person behind the headlines and business deals.

He smiles slightly, seemingly intrigued by my answer.

__ It's true that the media tends to focus on the superficial.

I nod, smiling in return.

__ So, to answer your question, I canceled the contract because I realized that the construction company wasn't meeting the necessary safety standards. As for the amount lost, it was around 5 million dollars.

I widen my eyes, slightly shocked by the figure.

He chuckles and adds more relaxed than before.

__ Given your father's fortune, I'm surprised this amount astonishes you.

I twirl a strand of hair around my finger.

__ My father might be wealthy, but he doesn't distribute his money like candy.

__ Touché, Miss Thorne. You're right, people shouldn't be judged solely by their financial status.

His gaze softens, but his eyes fixate on me with an odd glint. A hint of mischief. I avert my gaze, feeling embarrassed.

__ Do you have a dream? Outside of business?

He appears to ponder and nods.

__ I want to fall in love.

His words momentarily disarm me, but I quickly compose myself, jotting down these details so I don't forget.

__ Do you have a specific type of woman?

__ A type? Well, I've always had a weakness for redheads.

I instinctively touch my auburn hair. So that's why he had a date with Angela. Because she's a redhead? No wonder they mistook me for her.

__ Why redheads? I inquire, jotting down this new information in my notebook.

__ A little boy's dream, I suppose. Boys also dream from time to time of a beautiful princess who saves them. Even if they have to hide their identity for it.

I bite my lower lip, both surprised and touched by this analogy. The way he says it makes his words even more tender.

__ One last question. I purse my lips. How do you find me?

He appears initially surprised by my question, then tilts his head, observing me closely.

__ Very pretty.

Ella would be over the moon, but my Angela Thorne persona for the evening is somewhat irritated by this response.

__ Pretty? Is that all? Not even beautiful? Splendid? Gorgeous? Stunning?

He shrugs.

__ I was told to be honest on the first date.

__ What's that supposed to mean?

He looks at me and bursts into laughter.

__ You've regained your accent.

__ My accent? I ask, confused.

He continues to chuckle softly.

__ Yes, your accent. At the beginning of our conversation, you had that sophisticated and pretentious accent, worthy of a wealthy heiress. But now, you're speaking almost like yourself.

I feel a slight blush spread across my face, realizing that I had indeed changed my way of speaking to resemble Angela Thorne.

__ You knew? I inquire in a small voice.

__ Her father messaged me saying she had relapsed. Seeing you show up caught me off guard.

I fidget with my fingers, feeling embarrassed.

__ You're not going to get me arrested, are you?

__ I don't know, he hesitates. Saying it with a little smile. I'm curious to see what you'll do now that your cover is blown.

His smile suddenly isn't as charming anymore, and I realize I'm going to have to face this situation.

__ Maybe we could strike a deal?

He raises an eyebrow, curious.

__ A deal?

__ Yes. I won't say anything about this encounter if you agree to grant me an exclusive interview. A real article about you, not just the usual headlines and clichés.

He stares at me for a moment, assessing my proposition.

__ Are you threatening me?

I shrug.

__ Think of it as a second date.

He seems to think, and his smile slowly returns.

__ What's your name? Your real name?

I hesitate for a moment, but at this point, honesty is my only option.

__ My name is Ella Gale.

He smiles. I realize that this evening could be much more than I had imagined. My dream of becoming a reporter might finally come true thanks to this unexpected opportunity. And who knows? Maybe I'll manage to uncover who this man truly is. A cold wolf or an adorable little puppy.