°We met for a reason, either you're a blessing or a lesson🔗

~Paige~

I woke up at 9:30, feeling drowsy. I couldn't fall asleep; I stayed up late. I was so tired, but I had to get up because I had a class at 10:15 A.M.

I wore a white shirt which was open on its shoulders and distressed jeans. I picked out a yellow handbag and yellow high heels to conrast. I finished off the look with a bun and headed to the university.

My economic's professor gave us a project which was 25% of the total exam score. It was to have an interview with and write a report about a famous business person. Their ambitions, lifestyle, how they come up with ideas, hobbies and other business stuff.

I knew the exact person to go to- Dylan Sparks. A part of me wanted to interview Dylan. I found excuses for not choosing any other person. But, I wanted an excuse to see him...again. 

I went to have breakfast at Panera before the interview, because I was famished. I couldn't have a bite at home because I was in a hurry.

I googled his company's location and office and decided to head there right away.

I should've taken an appointment or something. Dylan of course wouldn't mind if I went without an appointment or a phone call, but it would be better if I called first.

As soon as I got out my phone, I remembered that we hadn't exchanged numbers yet.

***

"Yes?" The secretary smiled at me. She was seated at her desk, wearing her business attire- a black formal suit with a white shirt underneath which was unbuttoned all the way to her chest. Her ash blonde hair was pulled up into a bun.

"I'm here to see Dylan." I smiled back.

I could see her smile fading the minute I said Dylan's name.

"You mean Dylan sparks?" she asked, raising her eyebrows, giving me a quizzical look.

"Is there any other Dylan here?" I asked, irritated by her faked stupidity.

"Well you can't see him without an appointment," she said giving me a fake smile.

"Tell him it's Paige," I said, taking off my sunglasses slowly and putting them on the table in front of her.

She folded her arms as she gave me a wide, annoyingly, stupid smile.

"He knows a lot of Paige. Who do you think you are just barging in and commanding to see him without an appointment," she said calmly, rolling her eyes at me.

Okay, what the hell!?
Keep calm. Keep calm. 

"Paige Williams," I said, putting my hand on her desk as I smiled.

Bitch.
If I had his number I would have called. This secretary was getting on my nerves.

She picked up the phone to call him. I could notice he answered on the third ring from the way she straightened up and started talking in a professional tone.

"Sir. There's some girl here who goes by the name Paige Williams and isn't leaving."

"Dylan," I chirped as I raised my voice and leaned closer so he could hear me.

I could hear his voice through the phone but I couldn't make out the words he was saying.

"Alright sir. I'm sorry...ok," she said as she looked down and simpered then she looked back up at me.

She then stood up and lead me towards a jet black door. As she opened the door and exposed a spacious, grey room, Dylan's attractive signature smell filled my nostrils.

He stood up and straightened up as I entered.

Behind his desk was a breathtaking view over New York's skyscrapers. I could sense a monochrome style. Everything seemed in place- from his large desk to the little notes on the desk. This office was so much like Dylan. It was really big with a large table which seemed for meetings. His desk was in the centre and with two seats for visitors in front. His office was all grey, black and white- even the paintings. It certainly needed more color.

"Why didn't you tell me you were coming? I would have told them to prepare lunch," he said as he came closer.

"Well, if I had your number I would have called," I said, picking up my phone and giving it to him.

Dylan then picked up the phone and called his secretary asking her for white coffee for me.

She came in after a few minutes and dropped the dark coffee in front of Dylan with a smile and the coffee with the creamer in front of me with a glare.

Darling, he's all yours if you want him.

I took a sip of the Nescafé before telling him about the project. He seemed curious at first but as soon as I finished explaining it to him, he started laughing.

"Wait let me get this straight...you're going to interview me? Will you be recording?" he asked.

"No there's no need for recording. I'll just ask you a few questions and write your responses."

"Weird...I won't feel comfortable doing this," he muttered.

"Me neither, but I have to do it since it's twenty five percent of my final grade," I pouted, clutching my bag.

"I could get someone to do it for you while we have lunch by the time he's done," he said as he took out a paper from a file and started dialing a number.

"No, I want to do it. It'll be like cheating," I objected.
 
"As if your colleagues aren't going to do the same. He's an expert, you'll get a ninety," he said, trying to persuade me to give in.

"Let's try a few questions and see if I can go on with it," I agreed.

He paused for a minute and said, "okay let's start."

"Alright, Mr. Sparks," I jokingly said.

I brought out my things and arranged them. I got a small notebook and a pencil, ready to interview him. He watched me intently as I arranged my things and got ready. 

And I swear I heard him mutter the word ridiculous.

I asked the most common question.

"Another reason why you shouldn't do it. This is always asked," he jibed, mocking my choice of question.

"Well, I'm not a journalist and I thought that's what we're supposed to start with."

 He just sighed and shook his head.

"Okay, another queation."

"You had a huge donation given to the cancer center. Why'd you specifically pick that?" I asked.

This wasn't going into my report but I wanted to know why.

"Is this for your report?"

"No, but I want to know why. There's always a story."

"Not necessarily," he said, signing two papers.

"You could always ask me those questions without the excuse of an interview you know that?"

I nodded.

"It hurts to see kids losing their mother or father because of cancer, or parents losing their kids because of cancer. I didn't want people to lose their lives because they couldn't afford chemotherapy or medicine. We'll do all we can just to help them survive it," he said and he was smiling- an innocent smile.

He seemed so sweet and loving. I've never envisioned Dylan to be this kind, this thoughtful towards others feelings and health care.

He might seem cold on the outside, but on the inside he looked like an amazingly caring person. When I first met him, I didn't expect him to be like that; never judge a book by its cover.

A faint knock on the door interrupted both of our thoughts before it got opened by that annoying secretary.

"Mr. Sparks, forgive me for interrupting, but you have a meeting in thirty minutes," whatever-her-name-was said, batting her lashes at him and smiling.

"Please cancel," he said immediately.

Mrs-desperate-for-Dylan gaped at him looking displeased.

I couldn't distract him from his job, I thought. He had more important things to do than answer those banal questions.

"No, don't," I objected, getting up.

"Paige...don't leave," Dylan said holding my arm.

I froze and flinched at his touch.
I couldn't leave; I couldn't say no, but I had to.

The secretary was waiting in anticipation, hoping that I'd leave.

"Please."

And that was it. I looked at the ground then raised my head and looked at him. I smiled and sat down.

"You can leave Diana," Dylan said, not even looking at her. He then looked at me and smiled.

"But Sir," she pleaded.

Dylan gave her a stare and she left as she sighed and muttered, "as you wish."

"Where were we?"

"We'll go the week after to search for car rental shops. I have my finals next week," I said as I remembered the other day at the port.

"Alright. Next week," Dylan sighed.

He then said after a pause, "Paige you shouldn't get involved anymore...it's much more dangerous than I thought."

 "Is there something you aren't telling me?" I asked curiously.

I felt that there was something he wasn't telling me because of the way he tried to convince me not to get myself involved. Dylan not wanting me to involve myself  only increased my burning desire to continue further in this mystery.

"No no, but I'm just saying that you shouldn't."

"No I want to, please," I said smiling innocently.

He sighed and finally gave in. "Alright."

We both looked at each other and smiled for a mere seconds.

"Okay yeah where were we," I finally said snapping us both out of our gaze.

"What's the greatest challenge you've faced?"

"Greatest challenge? One was getting into that closet with you." 

I laughed along as I recalled the memory.

It was one hell of a problem. I didn't even know why we got into that closet. Now that I think of it, we could have hidden in the toilet or something. How did Dylan get the idea of hiding? I was glad we did so we'd discover something fishy and solve such mystery, because I found it fun and interesting.

"When I was a kid, my mother died." He interrupted my thoughts, jolting me with this sudden change of topic, just out of the blues. It was such a sudden emotional open up.

"Cancer took her away from me. It took someone who was always there for me. Someone who always sang to me to sleep. That's why I would never want to get attached to someone. I don't want them to leave me, I don't want to relive that moment; I died inside. What if I fell in love with a woman and that woman left me for another man? That's why I've put up a cold exterior...I don't want to lose someone I love," he continued.

While he spoke, he faced the view, looking out the window.
Not looking at me, he left me curious for his facial expression.

"Oh Dylan," I muttered under my breath.

That's why he's never had a girlfriend so that he wouldn't get attached to someone and lose her again. This warms and breaks my heart all at the same time. How attentive, caring, loving and sweet Dylan is, warms my heart. He was so hurt and broken because a piece of him got lost the second his mother died; it breaks my heart knowing this. To see Dylan this way is unfamiliar and strange. He adored her so much and he lost her, I couldn't imagine how painful that would be to him. It must've taken a long time for him to get over that.

He paused and then turned, looked at me and let out a half smile which slowed down time.

Returning the time back to its original speed, Dylan's phone rang. He stared at the ringing phone from a distance for a while, before he walked towards the table and picked it up immediately as he read the number.

I just heard him say the name 'Alex', sure that Alex was the one calling. I didn't pay attention to their conversation. I just stared plainly at my paper, not thinking straight, all of my thoughts got mixed up.

"Sorry I had to take it; it was important."

"It's okay," I smiled.

I then looked down at my paper and saw two weak questions with their answers written under each question. This won't get me a good mark, I thought. I couldn't act professional with Dylan; everything gets mixed up. We'd be speaking about work and then we'd end up speaking about how the earth was shaped.

I couldn't think of any more questions for the article, especially after what he had told me a few minutes ago. I wanted to know more about his personal life, his childhood, high school years and most importantly his relationship with his mother. I found myself wanting to know more. I wanted to get to know him.

"You know what, call that your person. Let's go have lunch," I suggested, finally giving in.

A smile crept on his face and he got up from the chair.
He called the man and told him about the project.

"By the time we're back it'll be done," Dylan said as he walked behind me, to the door.

We walked downstairs to the foyer. While we did, Dylan called someone to get the blue Porsche ready at the entrance.

As we stepped out of the lobby, a blue cabriolet Porsche Carrera purred to a halt.

The valet man was kind enough to open my door, before he handed Dylan the keys and opened the driver's door.

Dylan turned on the ignition, making the car roar: a sweet satisfying roar. He then rolled down the roof along with the windows of the car which was unexpected because it was already hot.

The wind ruffled and messed up my hairdo, because of the speed at which the car accelerated. My bun became loose and couldn't hold up anymore. The only option for me was to release my hair down before it became really messy.

"Oh I'm sorry, I ruined your bun," he smiled innocently, saying the words. He'd done it intentionally. He rolled up the window and switched on the air conditioner raising it to the maximum.

"Oh don't tell me you didn't do that on purpose." I arched a brow and looked at him.

"I like your hair down," he admitted, probably mistakenly because I could see he was taken aback by what he had just said.

I gave an amused smile before I gave in and laughed, shaking my head as he laughed along with me.

"So how about you? Tell me more about you. Favourite place? Your goal in life. What are you scared of? Stuff like that," he said after a while.

"Me? Well, I love Paris. And shopping is my favourite remedy. I usually go every week. This week is the only week I skip shopping," I said looking at him while he drove.

He stopped me by saying, "you skipped shopping for me," giving me 'the smirk' as he turned to the side and looked at me before he immediately shifted back his attention at the road.

"Don't flatter yourself,"  I said as I nudged him on the shoulder.

He laughed and I laughed along, only I was laughing at myself because I did skip shopping for that same reason.

°Sneak peak into the next chapter.

Right before getting into my bed I received a text message

-I'm bored want to do something?

• cliffhanger.

Who's that? Dylan, Chloé or someone new? Keep up for the next chapter to find out.

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