After working an extra hour, my shift finally came to an end. Sarah rushed off home, leaving me alone to make sure everything was switched off and prepared for the next day.

I grabbed my bag and headed toward the exit. The thought of sitting at the bar, relaxed, a drink in my hand, was etched into my mind. It was the only thing I could think about.

Just as I reached the doors, someone called my name.

I paused, glancing around in confusion. Then my name was called again. Turning toward the voice, I spotted a woman marching toward me from across the building. At first, I didn't recognise her—but as she drew closer, a knot of anxiety twisted in my stomach.

It was Jackie—the woman I'd spent the entire weekend pestering to give Calum an interview.

I hoped, prayed, she was calling me over with good news.

"Jackie, hi," I said as she reached me. "How are you?"

Judging by the stress etched across her face, not well.

"Louisa," she said breathlessly, "your referral."

"Yes?" My heart raced. "What about it?"

"I'm very disappointed."

My chest tightened, my heart thudding loudly as a dozen thoughts flooded my mind. I gestured for her to continue.

"Calum Harris did not turn up," she said sternly. "We waited over an hour. We called both numbers you provided—no answer."

Mortification and anger surged through me. After everything I'd done, everything I'd gone through for him, this was how he repaid me?

"Oh, Jackie, I'm so sorry," I said quietly. "I apologise on his behalf."

The words felt hollow, but I had nothing else to offer.

"Unfortunately," she continued, "because your referral failed to provide a valid reason for his absence, you won't be able to refer anyone to us for six months."

Before I could respond, she turned and walked away.

I stood there, frozen, my thoughts spiralling. Then rage took over. I stormed out of the building like a bull seeing red, my mind racing but unable to make sense of it all.

I needed answers. From Calum.

Outside the apartment, I forced myself to calm down. I decided to test him—to see if the truth would slip out. I composed myself, making sure there wasn't a trace of anger on my face.

"I'm back," I called out.

"Hey babe, how was work?" Calum replied, eyes glued to the TV as he played his game.

I grunted at his complete lack of awareness and went to freshen up. I changed into a plain white T-shirt, jeans, and my black leather jacket.

"So," I asked casually as I returned, "how was the interview?"

"Er... yeah," he said vaguely. "It was good. You know how interviews are."

My stomach dropped.

He was lying.

"So when will they let you know the outcome?" I pressed, watching him carefully.

"Few weeks, I think."

That was it.

Anger exploded inside me. I stormed over, snatched the remote, and turned the TV off.

"Louisa! What the hell—I was pl—"

"You liar!" I shouted. "You fucking liar! There was no interview, was there? You didn't go! How could you do this? Why would you do this?"

The words tumbled out uncontrollably.

Calum said nothing. He looked distant, detached—like he didn't care. He stuttered, trying to speak, but I didn't want to hear it.

"You know what? I don't even want to know," I snapped. "I'm going out."

I slammed the door behind me.

⸻

It was ten at night, and I was still at the pub. A club was out of the question—my head couldn't handle pounding music. I didn't want to go home. I didn't want to think about Calum. The anger was still burning inside me.

Lost in my thoughts, I barely noticed the bartender placing a drink in front of me. I frowned, confused—until she nodded toward a man across the bar.

I glanced over—and then did a double take.

He was intriguing. Completely in his own world. His deep brown hair fell in soft waves, catching the light. His jaw was sharp, his hands strong as he held his glass, his lips brushing the rim effortlessly.

I forced myself to snap out of it.

As I approached, there was something about him—an aura that pulled me in. His deep brown eyes met mine, and his lips curved into a smile that sent a tingling sensation through me.

I shook my head. Whatever this was, I needed to shut it down.

"Thanks for the drink," I said awkwardly, "but I can't accept it. I have a boyfriend."

Cringing at myself, I placed the drink in front of him.

"I bought you a drink," he replied dryly. "I didn't ask you to marry me."

His voice—deep and smooth—sent a shiver through me.

"Oh," I said quickly. "I didn't mean it like that. I just thought it was random."

"In a non-creepy way," he said calmly, "I've noticed you all night. You looked like you could use a drink."

I groaned internally and let out a nervous chuckle. His gaze felt intense, like he was reading me.

"Sorry," I blurted. "I didn't mean to be rude—wait, how do I know you didn't drug this?" I joked weakly.

He turned fully toward me, and I took in his tall frame, the hint of muscle beneath his clothes.

"That's why the bartender brought it," he said. "And trust me—I'd never drug a drink. If I were an asshole, I'd have tried to seduce you instead."

He smirked.

My breath caught.

Then he laughed, easing the tension. "I'm kidding. You can trust me. But if you want me to leave, I will."

My stress overrode my judgment.
"No, I'm sorry," I said. "I've just been under a lot of pressure—ignore me, I'm rambling."

"It's okay," he said. "Tell me. What's bothering you?"

"I can't," I said. "I don't even know you."

"You've been standing here for ten minutes," he replied, pulling out a stool. "Sit. Talk."

I hesitated, then sat. I took a sip of the drink.

"Where do I even begin?" I laughed nervously. "My boyfriend's being an idiot. We've lost our spark. I'm always at work. There's this promotion—an amazing opportunity—but I'm scared it'll ruin what's left of us."

The words spilled out before I could stop them.

"Sounds like a lot," he said gently. "Tell me about the promotion."

I swallowed. "Personal assistant to the owner of AP Enterprise. I want it—but I'm scared. I don't even know what he looks like. What if he's creepy? And what about my boyfriend?"

He was quiet for a moment.
"So you're more worried about him than yourself," he said. "Does he worry about you?"

I hesitated. "I feel like I give everything... and get nothing back."

"Then maybe you need a break," he suggested.

I stiffened. "I can't. I love him."

He checked his watch and stood.
"I have to go," he said softly. "But go for that promotion. If he loves you, he'll understand. And that job? It could change everything."

He smiled—warm, genuine—and walked away.

Only then did I realise I never got his name.

And yet, his words stayed with me.

Maybe... he was right.

A/N

What is Calum playing at? Just when we thought he was going to get a job!

And who is this mysterious guy at the bar... should Louisa listen and go for this job?

Don't forget to share, comment and vote!

Love _xxAMxx