Chapter 8
Oliver Ferraz
After Alice left, I locked myself in my office.
I needed to get up to speed quickly on all the company's business.
I picked up the first contract and started reading, but I couldn't make any headway.
Every line seemed blurry—my mind kept drifting to my secretary's angelic face and that melodious voice echoing in my head.
I tap my head, trying to push the thoughts away, but it's useless.
I stand up and walk to the discreet bar in the corner of the office.
My eyes scan the bottles until they land on that amber liquid that never fails me.
I pour a generous glass and drain it in one gulp.
It burns going down, but it can't erase her image: the way she looked up when we accidentally bumped into each other at the hotel entrance; the blonde hair falling over her shoulder, her face lit up by a smile that disarmed me, eyes of a stunning green I'd never seen before, and the freckles—those little spots scattered perfectly across her fair skin.
I pour another glass, sit down in the armchair this time, and let myself drift—carried by the drink, by the memories, and by the shiver I still feel when I think of her skin so close to mine.
First day of work and I'm already like this.
I barely got out of a failed relationship, and yet my mind keeps flirting with danger.
A good no-strings-attached fuck never hurt me.
It's been almost two weeks since I've felt someone, smelled someone, touched someone, and my body is demanding its due. I need to fuck some hot chick.
I raise the glass again, feeling the warmth of the drink, grab my car keys, and get ready to leave. Just as I'm about to head out, Alberto appears at the door.
“Hey, man. I saw your office light on and decided to stop by. Were you already leaving?” he says, staring at the car keys in my hand.
“Yeah, I tried to review some contracts Alice left behind, but I can't concentrate.
I'm going out for drinks—want to join me?”“Sure thing!
Let me just grab my jacket. I'll meet you at the elevator.”
As soon as he turns his back, I leave, close the door, and steal a quick glance at her desk: impeccably organized. Alice's perfection intrigues and irritates me at the same time. Why do I think about her so much?
I'm calling the elevator when Alberto arrives. We head down to the parking garage and make for the first bar we find. I hand the keys to the valet and we walk to the entrance. The hostess greets us and shows us to a table. I take a look around—it's not what I wanted, but it'll do for tonight.
We order a couple of beers and soon the conversation flows. Alberto's been my friend since childhood, and the night passes quickly. I tell him about college in New York, the courses, until he brings up the inevitable and thoroughly unpleasant subject: Andréa.
“I still can't believe your engagement ended. What was Andréa thinking? Cheating on you with a mutual friend.”“I don't know either.
We had a healthy relationship—or at least I thought so.
We had a good life together. I tried to find flaws, but I couldn't find any. Which makes it even more frustrating.”“Yeah.
I've known you guys since we were kids—it seemed solid. Hard to understand. Everyone around us believed in the wedding.”“My father thinks it was because of the program.
He's tired, wants to retire. I pushed myself to speed up the plans: come back early, take over the company, marry her…
but her plans were different and didn't include me.”
I sighed and felt the tightness in my chest. That scene of them in bed wouldn't leave my mind, every detail burning me: her smile as she gave herself to another man, the cold touch of the pillow I once thought would only be ours, the memory of the clothes she was wearing—now stained with betrayal.
The heat of anger and disappointment rose through me, and the glass of beer I was still holding seemed to contain nothing.
Alberto looks at me and says:“Makes sense. So, ready for a new love? That secretary of yours is a real looker, huh?”
I give a short laugh and shake my head.“Forget it. Relationships? Never again. I just want to have fun, fuck a lot. Today, actually, my plan was to hit up a whorehouse, not some fancy bar,” I say, looking around.
We burst out laughing, but even as I laughed, part of me stayed tense. I thought of Alice: the softness of her voice, the way she walked, the sparkle in her eyes. A subtle danger, a distraction I still couldn't allow myself. I didn't want to—but it was stronger than me.
We finished the night with beers and conversation.
It was good to clear my mind, to vent with Alberto.
It had been way too long since we'd done this.
But driving back to my apartment, I knew work would demand all my focus—and keeping my thoughts off my perfect little secretary would be even harder than any contract.
The truth was, I didn't want to admit that she'd gotten to me in a way I hadn't expected—and so fast.