"Harry Samuels." He introduced himself in a calm sounding voice.

He was ... outstanding. Actually, absolutely breathtaking. And so much more.

"And you are Shayleen Taylor, if I remember it right."

How did he know my name?

"My pleasure to meet you, Mr. Samuels."

"No, it's my pleasure. You can call me Harry."

I gave him a shy smile as I debated whether I should interview him right now or let a short smalltalk sink in.

"Miss Smith informed me about you," He said, taking a glass of champagne of the waiter's salver next to the both of us. "She told me you're new in this business"

"Actually," I interrupted him, "I am just a journalist."

"Somehow you're still taking part in America's economy, don't you think? Just imagine how much money is being wasted on magazines."

"Informative magazines," I added, defending our magazine. He now definitely lost all of my respect, if he had even earned some.

"Sure, Miss." With that, he nodded and broke our connection for the first time this evening as he gazed to this room which happened to be the main room of the university.

This definitely offered me the opportunity to take a closer, better look at him. He was tall, much taller than me to be exact. I could tell that he had rather light eyes. And also some curls that seem to slowly show off at the very ends as he ran his fingers through his hair that he seemed to often slick back.

He looked like the typical example of a businessman that used his position for both money and women. And I was not into Miss Smith's plan anymore, if I ever was. I couldn't remember to have ever said Yes. Apparently, though, just the wearing of this way too tight dress was enough confirmation for my boss to believe in me and think I would have agreed to this job.

Though he disgusted me already, in a lot of ways to mention, I was still debating deep in my head whether I should be doing this. Maybe, just maybe, there was not just an article but an interesting adventure hidden behind that body of his.

He looked back to me, slowly taking in my outfit for tonight as I adjusted the kind of fancy looking ring on my left hand. It really was not an easy life with evening gloves, was it? And, I guessed, it definitely wasn't with him.

I wondered if he had children, considering he was a little older than me.

"So why are you here tonight, Mr?" I asked, regretting the question right after.

I should've asked him this differently.

I should've asked him something else.

I better shouldn't have said anything. Dear, this would have been a much better job for Jenna. Speaking of her, where was she?

Harry, who seemed to cringe at me referring to him as Mr, took another sip of his now almost empty glass while forcing himself to show me a little smile.

"I am here to meet along with other business men of Chiacgo, planning to buy apartments of more than one floor belonging to a skyscraper in Chicago. Lovely city." He does real estate marketing?

Shay, you really should've done at least a little research...

"That's great. So.. you're not from here?"

"Me?" He looked at me with furrowed eyebrows as he emptied his drink, "No, but most of my business is finding its place here." Why was he so offended by my question?

Chicago has always been THE place for marketing in the US, hasn't it?

"I live in Los Angeles, where the money flies from A to B." He continued as he looked for a waiter he could ask for another drink. I assumed that he drank regularly.

"I don't think Los Angeles and Chicago are easy to compare to each other." I admitted, wanting to lead this conversation my way. I needed answers.

He was my article.  When he knew about me, though, he should have known about my article too.

He smiled back at me as Miss Smith joined us from nowhere.

"Harry!" She almost screamed in pure happiness. Wow, he really seemed to be the key for our magazine's fame if it was Miss Smith who cared that much. Or, even better, it was his money.

"Marlene," He greeted back while he kissed both her left and her right cheek, making her blush in excitement. "You did a great job this time, referring to your new employees." He looked at me as he said that.

"I'm glad you like Miss Taylor!" My boss replied as she didn't even acknowledge me once in the presence of Mr. Samuels who she seemed to always call Harry. Apparently they have known each other for some time longer now.

Mr. Samuels nodded as he finally got his second glass this evening, thanking the waiter and putting his attention back to my boss. "She's amazing."

"Are you enjoying this event?" I kept listening to the conversation between the both of them as I calmly searched for Jenna. How could she leave me, though?

My boss could do this job way better, why not leave them?

"I have to go to the toilet, if you'll excuse me." I said, giving Miss Smith an apologising look. Quickly, I left them and made a way through the mass of people, almost having to use my elbows to fight my way out as I found a bar chair next to a small, fancy decorated bar.

Miss Smith was overtaxing me in every way possible, asking me to get his oh so way too important attention but then taking his attention away from me. This went from just doing an interview to enticing him to I am supposed to write the best article of the year or else I'll lose my job.

And it was hard to find a job in this clueless, cold world – especially with the grades of mine. A horror movie, as my mom once said. I chuckled just thinking about this. I opened my bun that was held by a glittery hair clasp Jenna also borrowed me, making my blonde hair fall down on my shoulders. For the first time in my life, I needed a smoke. Now.

"A whisky for the lady?" I heard a young man say while he cleaned one of the glasses that were sorted in a straight line right in front of me.

"You think this is the right event for this?" I asked back, not knowing if I should risk getting drunk right now.

"You don't look all too happy." He mentioned as he looked at me, making me feel like I looked extremely tired. I probably did.

"I am not happy," I stated as I didn't know how much I was supposed to reveal of my mission, "The man I should be talking to isn't all too interested." What was I saying?

"I didn't know there were date nights here, too." He stuck his tongue out after he said it, hoping I'd return his smile.

"I was supposed to interview him," I informed him, raising one eyebrow. "But you can pour in a shot, I think I need it."

He nodded while he prepared not only one, but two shots for me, knowing this isn't going to be the first one I was about to drink tonight. Hell, if I would've known that there was going to be a simple bar right at the welcome area of the event, I would've preheated already. I needed some stress relief.

"An interviewer, alone at the bar, doesn't make herself look the nicest when she should be out there." He admitted, not being proud of his actions anymore. Too late to think about this, don't you think?

"I don't know how I'm not fired yet,"

"They probably need you."

"Sure," I shook my head as I said that, drinking my first shot this evening.

Maybe, this was all way too much for me. The responsibility of not messing anything up, of representing our magazine from its most attracting side and always smile. Me, being the shy young woman that I have always been, probably wasn't grown up enough to take this responsibility nor grown up enough to talk to a man that was Harry Samuels himself.

I didn't know whether Miss Smith actually wanted me to do this or to mess up this whole situation so that she could fire me and give another, probably more suitable person this job. If she wanted me to do this, though, I was right about to miss my chance as I was ready to rather pour myself in shots.

I couldn't be confronted with anything tonight, anyways. It wasn't my night. It wasn't my night, like it was supposed to be, like Miss Smith wanted me to turn it into. It wasn't that easy, actually. And it was my job to make this clear to her. If I just wasn't all too feared by losing everything I have achieved in such a short time...

I ordered a second shot, knowing only a few would get me tipsy already. I couldn't drink as much as Mr. Amazing, wonderful, iconic Harry Samuels probably could.

While I was in a deep conversation with the barman who seemed to have at least a little humor for my situation, I felt somebody tap on my shoulder.

"Jenna?"

"Jesus, what the hell are you doing?" Jenna tore my what felt like 100th drink this evening out of my hand.

"I'm enjoying my night. What about you?"

"Do you even know what you look like?" Oh, Jenna, I knew. Like an absolute disaster. "Shay, answer me!"

"I don't think I can do this," I admitted, and it was true. I really thought I couldn't do this. It wasn't as simple.

"Why do you think that?"

"Miss Smith, who considers herself as the queen of the evening, got all the attention she wanted."

"I saw her talking to Mr. Samuels, but you weren't there-"

"Because it was sickening me, Jenna."

She scratched the back of her head, thinking about how she could bring me back to my usual calm state.

"Girl, you're really missing out. I had the pleasure to talk to him, too."

"Glad you had fun, Jen. Now, if you'll excuse me, I was in the middle of a conversation." I said as I returned to the barman, not wanting to be disturbed anymore.

"You can't do this," Jenna turned around the bar chair so that I was facing her, "They were asking after you."

"Of course they did. I mean, I never returned."

"Because you're afraid!"

"No, because Miss Smith is taking away my chance!"

"You're lying to yourself, Shay!"

I was sad she didn't understand me. Did she ever, though?

"I will need to quit this job myself before she dismisses me, as this will sound much better at my future applications for the job of a whore." I couldn't believe my words myself tonight.

"You.. Hey, what the hell are you even talking about?" It was her turn to laugh, wanting me to join in.

"This really isn't funny, Jen. I could've got the best interview she had ever seen!"

"He wouldn't have given an interview anyways, look at him!" She pointed to a point in the crowd till I finally saw him for the first time since I left him and my boss alone, looking a little tipsy as well. "All events, also as serious as this one, go like this. Don't be disappointed."

"I disappointed Miss Smith."

"You can still get to interview him,"

I was not ready to face him again, though. I didn't even know why Miss Smith couldn't do this job herself, or Jenna, since she seemed to be way more excited.

"I don't think I will."

"C'mon, get up and get yourself together. You look like a mess. Plus, he's still here."

"Is he still talking to Smith?" I asked, ignoring her comment.

"I, uh, dunno. He probably knows every person in this room." Jenna shrugged her shoulders while she said that, acting like I was being in the most normal situation in this world. "I know about Miss Smith's plan, actually. But I ain't on her side"

I smiled at her, happy that there was at least one person that supported me.

"How can I fix this? Or at least make Miss Smith happy enough to not lose my job." This was everything I had.

Jenna looked pensive as she rested her pointer finger and her thumb on her chin, "I don't know.."

I lost all my hope, sinking back to the innocent woman I was.

"You have to just interview him, right?" She asked, needing a confirmation whether this was my actual job, "Nothing else. Just go to him, ask him for another meeting and that's it. Boom, there's an article that I could help you with and you ain't losing your job!"

It sounded easier than it was – and I wasn't sure if I could just go back and ask him for another meeting. He probably had so many others and wouldn't even cancel one for a not-known magazine.

"We could try," I replied to Jenna, not wanting to make her feel like she was the bad friend.

I stood up from the bar chair, still a little tipsy as I waved a goodbye to the barman who I had a lovely conversation with. At least he didn't have to be confronted with what I was confronted with.

I shook my hair many times, adjusting and fixing it so that I didn't look like I drank almost ten strong shots of whisky. I mean, THE Harry Samuels really didn't have to notice this, did he? I was a lady, after all.

Slowly I made my way back to him, being supported by Jenna walking right behind me. She empowered me in moments like these. I saw him standing along with other business men I had met earlier this evening. What should I begin with?

"Just say Excuse me.. Or There I am again!" Jenna whispered from behind, thinking this will make him say Yes to an interview.

"Representing myself as a shy and embarrassing person isn't the best thing to begin with, Jenna."

"Some men like it!"

"I want an interview."

"Ain't you single, too?" I rolled my eyes, choosing to ignore her for the rest of this evening. I took a deep breath, being only a few steps in front of Harry. Why didn't he see me yet and just invited me over?

I slowly stepped to Samuels, re-living the what hopefully happened to be my next and last conversation this evening.

"Mr. Samuels?" I started, already noticing how I didn't plan this all too well. And Jenna's support seemed to have said Goodbye to me, too.

"Oh, there you are, Miss." Harry greeted me for the second time tonight, showing off his pearl white teeth. "This is Miss Taylor, she works for Miss Smith's economy magazine Walgreen."

I showed my most charming side for the first time tonight by smiling to him and the other businessmen as I felt quite intimidated by their looks.

"Nice to meet you, Miss Taylor." I heard one of them say who also seemed to be as young as me. I greeted him and the rest while I gazed at Mr. Samuels, signalising him I really needed to have a talk with him.

"If you'll excuse me," He said to the others, repeating what I have said before leaving both him and Miss Smith alone.

I guided him to a more quite part of the area, offering him to take a seat at the very last table of the room.

"You did take quite long on the toilet," He pointed out, remembering what I had said to him earlier.

"I'm sure you know how long women can take."

"Well, Miss Taylor," He looked at me like he did when he first greeted me, "Miss Smith told me about an interview you prepared for me."

On the one hand, I thanked the dear Mother of God for letting him lead this conversation into the right direction, on the other hand I was asking myself what prepared interview he was talking about?

"I wanted to interview you, Sir, that's correct. If it doesn't bother you, I'd ask for another date that's rather suitable for the both of us." I requested as I pointed out how much we would have been disturbed by the full crowd of people. Plus, I hadn't prepared a little thing.

"I understand," He murmured, looking down on the table as if there was his whole schedule written down.

"Tomorrow, Friday, 7 PM. I'm asking you to not be late." I looked at him in shock when he said that.

First of all, why was he choosing the time? Second of all, shouldn't I be the one to tell him not to be late?

Tables were definitely turning. And I let this happen.

"Sure," I then said, being happy to at least have got the chance to interview him. Perhaps I could still show Miss Smith how much of a good journalist was hidden in the soul of mine.

"We could meet at my o-"

"I'd rather meet at my office," He interrupted me.

I exhaled a short "Okay" as I smiled to him, wanting him to know how glad I was that he was still open for an interview. This was my chance. This was the chance of Walgreen.

"I can't wait to meet you, Miss. But I'll have to go now." He took a look at his golden watch on his left wrist that was probably worth thousands of dollars.

"It's my pleasure. Would you like to be prepared on the questions?"

"I consider this as more of a spontaneous interview."

"Sure, yes." I really was out of words when talking to him.

He was the first one to get up from his seat, gesturing me to take his hands and then go back to Miss Smith. He really focused to never leave a party as the very last one.

Before he turned around to leave, he whispered something in my ear, making sure nobody else would hear:

"Make sure you wear a red dress."