"There you are, Shay," Harry greeted me, giving me a smile I needed to understand as friendly.

"I'm sorry, it took me some," I replied, almost chuckling at the awkward conversations we kept having. "Now, Mr., I'd like to ask you proper questions"

"I thought we've been there before" He winked at me but knew exactly what I was talking about.

Due to his incredibly annoying answers to each question I tempted to ask, he used those situations to be flirty with me - what else his looks were supposed to mean, though.

I didn't get THE answers, well, I did, but still hadn't the perfect interview I had to make Miss Smith proud about. Harry, of course, didn't understand this - he had no fear of losing his one and only, his job, nor he would care a little about me losing it. There'd be hundred of other interviewers he could magically flirt with, giving them his sexy look and making each of them fall down to their knees, seeing him as the God in heaven.

I wasn't one of them.

And even if Miss Smith wanted me to be, I was not standing behind that statement is hers.

Harry was one to use his position. And Mrs. Smith wanted me to use mine too by using him.

I needed to make a great interview without falling right into his arms - I did not want him to fall for me. It was Mrs. Smith, and I guess, Jenna too.

I did give in, yes, he was bloody breathtaking.

But falling for love, or just sex, would be unprofessional.

Right?

Fuck it, I didn't know what I wanted either.

"There's some interview questions in particular that I've prepared for us," I explained, "for you, I meant"

"Then come with me" he said when he took my hand in his, pulling me upstairs. I was wondering where he wanted to steal me to.

We went through the enormously beautiful looking hallway of the first floor. For the millionth time this evening I noticed myself not knowing whose house this actually was, but being very aware of the fact that Harry Samuels was even more welcome here than anybody else.

And having me, almost, but just almost, intertwined with that bony fingers of his, I could use this situation quite well.

Alright, maybe I was a little unprofessional. But isn't this what Miss Smith had asked me to? Kind of.

He pulled me into a room that looked as expensive as all parts of the house, actually mansion, did. Compared to those parts I've, at least, seen till then.

"Here we'll have our own silence" Wow. Harry. And me. In a room like this. Alone.

I must be stupid for not using this situation.

"That's the right location for an interview, I guess"

He chuckled, "I thought so"

He took a seat on the huge king size bed that was in the middle of this wonderful, wonderful room. I had a bad feeling knowing there might be people who use this bed and, well, might be here at this very evening. Just one floor under ours. Like ghosts that could hear us.

"Do you live here?" I finally asked, being curious of his actual wealth.

"Not really," he replied calmly, probably already expecting this question, "This is my room from time to time. It's more of a house for parties and stuff, when we're here in Chicago"

"We?" I furrowed my eyebrows.

"John, his brother Liam, Mark, and so on"

"John Marbles?" I should've shut up already.

"Yep," he answered, popping the P at the end. He probably knew all of this was new for me, and I didn't have any friends that had comparable wealth to his or John Marbles'. "It's nothing special, though. I'm barely here. It's more their house"

It was his room, though. And I was here. With him.

I wondered why he had a king size bed that looked like this. I wouldn't say it wasn't being romantically decorated, actually, it was. But it would take me a lot to step out of my beloved comfort zone to go to a store and then buy sheets like this.

They were in a rather dark red, with patterns I barely really see in this light. It was the highlight of this room but wasn't personal in any way. No private pictures nor anything close to that.

Plus, I didn't think that golden closet in the back of the room was all too personal compared to what I thought kind of person Harry was. I liked men that kept it simple, and he was nowhere near to that. He seemed to be in that expensive suit of his twenty-four seven.

"You probably don't have no nerves for talking to me now, do you?"

I looked at him with wide eyes, wondering where he got that from.

"What? I do"

"No. Most women like you try to take their chance with business men or just men that have money, God, most of them would kill to be in your place now. You didn't even touch me yet"

The words seemed to slip out of his mouth one after another, almost too fast for me to understand and giving me not a lot of time to react and sort my thoughts.

He must be so drunk.

Before I could answer, he continued fast, "I'm not asking you to jump on me. I'm saying I'm having high respect for you"

"For not sucking you off right away?" I questioned, balling my fists together. Oh, if Jenna could be here now.

"For not using your situation. For keeping your distance, little lady"

"Are you thanking me?"

"I, uhm, yeah" Wow, I made him be the one to stutter for once.

"But you're praising me"

"I just think that's cool. You're overreacting"

"Cool? For not being a fucking whore?"

I took my little clutch that I placed on his drawer the whole time that I've just been standing right in front of him, watching him enjoy his comfortable bed. I was ready to leave.

Now.

When I touched the door knob, I heard him get up right away, almost running to the door. "What?"

"I've probably started us the whole wrong way"

"You did, 'Samuels"

"I want to apologise.. I mean, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to tell you this in that way. You must understand my situation though"

"Save it, Samuels"