I let myself fall for this moment. We were still standing in the middle of this breathtaking hallway, only steps away of the lift I had wanted to use just moments before.

I played the cards completely wrong but it did not bother me a bit.

Referring to his words, I was like all the others but so much different. However he thought of me, good or bad, I hoped that he enjoyed it as much as I did. I wanted this to be our moment.

Not the moment between some businessman and a naïve, really naïve, journalist. It was the moment of Shayleen and Harry, me and him. And I couldn't put it into words.

He moved his hands up until he cupped my face, making me fall so much more for this kiss. For him.

Maybe it was the time to enjoy this, maybe Jenna was right. I, on one hand, needed to do my job, and I did. At least I was about to. Somehow this could still be part of the interview. I could write how much of an arsehole he was, even though I forgot it for the short amount of time. I could write that he used journalists for sex and good publicity, and I could put it as the title of my what was about to be first article.

But this is not how I am. I am Shay.

I felt his tongue touching my bottom lip until I finally opened up for him as I put my hands around his neck. His tongue was playfully touching mine.

I closed my eyes and lost all of my confidence that I have built in the time I needed to interview him.

He pulled back and, as if he could read my mind, he looked down on me and tried to build his next words. "Are you going to include this in that interview of yours?"

I did not know if he was scoffing about it until he smiled teasingly. "I wouldn't mind," He then added.

I looked down while his left hand was still touching my face, moving his thumb to my lips.

"You're pretty." He said, making me lift my head again. It seemed like the both of us lost our minds, completely forgetting about the positions we were in.

"Thank you.."

This time it was him, again, who chuckled. "Did you know it?"

"What?" I asked, pulling my eyebrows together again. I was barely paying attention, kind of nervous as I thought about what would happen if somebody saw us this way.

"I asked if you knew it," He repeated, now pulling his eyebrows together like I just did. It was almost adorable, now where I knew that he had a different side of him. A more fun, flirtatious side apart from that business boy.

"Knew what?" My face turned red for the hundredth time.

"Did you know you're pretty?"

"Oh" was all I could manage to say though I said Thank You already. I didn't know anything in this very moment, completely aware of his gaze on my now blushing face. Neither I knew if he just really wanted me to pay all of my attention to his compliment or if he was asking me this in a serious way of his.

"Hm?" I heard him mumbling, still looking down on my face as he peeked at my necklace and then back at my lips.

"N-no.."

"You really are, Shay." He then declared.

I wanted to play with him, to flirt with him, but I lost all words I had in mind. I was taken away by this moment, by the way he looked at me, by the way he touched me.

He moved his still resting thumb over my lips, making me excite over every movement of his.

Just when I was about to answer we heard a lift behind us open, revealing not one, not two but what I guessed to be about five businessmen talking to each other before they looked at us.

Oh, no.

I pushed Harry away from me, making him almost fall down on the marble floor. His eyes were wide, and still dark, looking at the men who were approaching us. "Huh, Samuels" I heard one of them astonish this what seemed to be an embarrassing moment.

Even though I was feeling dizzy, I slowly took in the sight in front of Harry and me, noticing that the guy who was talking to Harry was no one else than John Marbles.

That's it with the interviews.

"Sorry," I heard Harry mumble, making my heart drop in a matter of seconds. Of course he wasn't going to explain himself. Maybe he was actually sorry for kissing me.

Was I sorry?

"I was looking for you," I heard John explain himself. "And for you."

He looked at me as he said that, and back to Harry. He knew very well what he was interrupting. And I couldn't blame him. We shouldn't have been doing this.

He then started laughing, "Don't worry, Shay. Don't feel uncomfortable. That's how our Harry is, isn't he?" He tapped his hand on Harry's shoulder, praising his behavior.

"Yeah?" I muttered, looking down on my feet. He was right, that's how Harry was. He probably just wanted to have some fun.

The kiss didn't mean anything, right?

"Miss Smith won't know shit." I looked to John as he said that, making me inflame in surprise when he cursed. I was in the middle of unprofessionalism.

"Thank you," I replied, hoping he was serious. I did not know whether he was keeping his words, or whether he just said so, but I hoped it so much. I could not get into another problem with Miss Smith. I have already done enough, it was not the right time for another issue after I had John waiting for me in the middle of the office. She was angry enough.

Harry's body tensed as he awkwardly scratched his neck, he probably felt just as uncomfortable and embarrassed in this situation just as I did.

God, it was not planned. If I wouldn't have fallen for the kiss like I did, I would have used my brain for once, and thought about the following consequences. I really hoped I could trust John. At that moment he had to be my friend.

On the other hand, it seemed to be Harry's daily activity, flirting with women and having fun, one of his activities, in addition to all the business stuff he had to deal with (or he chose to deal with). I was wondering why he was feeling uncomfortable at this moment, when he seemed to do this all the time.

Maybe he wasn't even uncomfortable with this situation at all, now where I thought about the fact that John was, apparently, used to him being this way. I couldn't even find words for as disgusting men as him. Harry was just like them. And I was falling for it.

The men behind John were giggling in an almost feminine way when they saw me blushing.

Harry wanted to put the attention that was drawn on us to something – in my opinion, very unimportant – else instead of diving deep into the feeling of embarrassment.

"Why did you look for us, John?" He looked at John very quietly, and avoided any gaze to me, acting as if the kiss had never happened. John, indeed, seemed to almost forget. Perhaps it was, really, as unimportant as Harry made it seem, and I made a much too big drama out of it. Just like a high school kid. But I couldn't leave it, I had been much too faded away at the moment, so I wanted to forbid myself to label this kiss as something meaningless. It felt really good, too good to forget, for me at least.

"I wanted to meet you both individually," John said in a very calm voice. "It's about two different things. Harry?" He looked at Harry as if he knew exactly what John was talking about.

As I held my gaze on Harry, I tried to analyse and read his body language, or even guess what he was going to do next. Instead, it looked like he paused his breathing process, and folded his arms as he looked at John, with a frustrated look on his face.

John, meanwhile, looked at me as if I was unwanted with what he and Harry were planning. I know I shouldn't care but my heart leaped at the tension between us all, and between the other businessmen. They watched this situation as well as I did and tried to analyse it just as well as I did.

It was no longer just a "houseparty" like the one that I attended tonight. It had happened way too much. The girl in the bathroom, Jenna's information about Harry's wealth and career path, and the kiss. It was all too much for me.

But I decided to stay myself, and to calm my thoughts. Nothing else happened, right? Harry and I could continue working professionally, and I thanked God deep in my thoughts that Harry was not a colleague of mine. Otherwise, I would be dead, Miss Smith would find out about everything, either laugh at it or praise me for finding a rich man, or she would hate me abysslessly and fire me without any further thoughts.

Even if it would be great if Harry worked with me and maybe even damn hot, it wouldn't be a good idea. It wasn't even a good idea that I worked with him in this kind of relationship. A journalist, a stupid, naïve journalist and a wealthy, clever businessman who liked to share his fun along with others.
I, also, enjoyed it myself. Nevertheless, I blamed him for the unprofessionalism that had built up between the both of us.

He was being the one to blame for the kiss.

"Harry, you have completely forgotten that someone wanted to meet you downstairs," John then said, interrupting my thoughts abruptly.

He focused on the word "someone" and put a harsh tone on it. Apparently, Harry was expecting someone important, and I hoped deep in my unreadable thoughts that it was something mercantile, and no stupid hooker like the woman on the toilet who apparently knew much more about Harry than she should, or actually, than I'd like. I caught myself feeling a little jealous, but I struck this thought aside.

I couldn't be jealous. Not because of a trixie like her.

I looked back at Harry as I arranged my thoughts, and I forgot all the others around me, John and the other men who I assumed businessmen that still stared at Harry and me stupidly.

Harry apparently knew what John was talking about.

He breathed out a short "Oh" like the one I breathed out when he had told me I was really pretty. He let his long arms fall aside, trying to soothe his face and calm his body. He knew that the right body language was very important when you meet someone. It did not have to be very important, though, when it was a stupid bitch who was waiting for him.

She wouldn't even know I kissed him.

But, maybe, it was an actual business issue that was not supposed to concern me. God, why care so much? He was only Harry.

"I'll meet him right downstairs," Harry stated in a stern voice, and I realised how the lust in his voice faded away compared to after he kissed me and complimented my look. At the thought I blushed again and caught John as he looked at me with an evil gaze.

I quickly shook this thought out of my head and I wanted to forget about it, at least for the rest of the night. I had to hold up and play.

"Ibra, could you please get me my papers?" Harry looked at a man who was hiding behind all those nice dressed men who were still clinging to us. "And offer a coffee for the man downstairs."

I was a little disappointed that the planned interview between Harry and I was over, if it ever even started. But I knew I had well enough to write.

I had something against Harry – something that I could use against him. Even though it seemed as if I was not the only woman sharing an experience like with, I could still be proud of myself in a way because I had something many did not have.

A proof that he was not a down-to-earth, nice guy, but an arsehole that used others.

Perhaps he even deceived in his business affairs, who knows. I should be on the trail of him, so I had more to write against him and the stupid career he has had help with to build.

Lust and longing for a great adventure rose in me as I thought about it.

But I had only until Monday to write my interviews about Harry, and one about John.

Harry pulled his long-sleeved shirt up his arms and exposed his underarms, which looked a little trained. He looked really good.

God, what have I done?