And there I was.
Back in New York again. Going to work again, back from vacation, back to a busy life, back to not seeing my family for another eight years.
Back to a boring life.
Nothing I could do about it. I could sell my company and get billions of dollars, but then I'm only in my 20s and I would be bored as hell.
I think the real reason I'm a workaholic is because I got nothing better to do. I have friends of course, but then they would be available during the weekend or God knows when. They have jobs, some are married, and few of them already have kids.
I'm probably gonna get married in my next life. I'll just spoil Maya's kids. And Mayven's as well.
The next day I headed for work.
I wore a black suit with a collared white shirt and a blue tie. I had loafers on, because I forgot my heels in my parents house. (Don't blame me I only had two pairs and I was busy with stuff.) My hair was tied in a ponytail, and I had black eyeliner on, and red lipstick. I carried a briefcase to work.
My motorcycle hasn't arrived yet, so I had to take the car. In traffic. In New York. Terrific.
At least I was on time, but then again I am the boss, so does it matter?
My assistant filled me on things that happened when I was gone, then she went and got me coffee and I thanked her.
There was another company who wanted to work a business project together, saying that it'd be very helpful or what not.
I agreed to meet them and asked my assistant to set up a meet with them while I look over some paperwork.
After a while she told me the meeting was tomorrow.
These people certainly wasted no time.
The rest of the day was paperwork and meetings.
When I finally arrived home, I kicked off my shoes and plopped on to the couch. I should've stayed longer. I need a vacation. I just came back from it though. I need another vacation.
I haven't gotten a text from Mason yet. What did he want to tell me? Maybe it wasn't important as I thought it would be.
Next day the morning routine repeated.
When it was time for the meeting, I was outside the room there was a figure standing there that almost looked like Mason. Maybe I was imagining things.
I walked in the room, and he turned around. It was Mason.
"Blaise."
Just one word on my name made me get goosebumps. Why was I so nervous?
"Pleasure meeting you, Mr.Rockwell." I lent out my hand for a handshake.
He hesitated, then shook it.
My assistant was in the room with us.
Mason offered us both a seat and then went on to business. He explained everything of the project.
After a while I agreed to do it, and we shook hands once again, this time he squeezed it a bit before letting go. My heart was beating fast.
What the hell was happening to me? I hate this guy... right?
I saw him off outside. Before he walked out of the door, the turned to me, then bent down.
"Dinner at the Rouge, 7 pm. Don't be late." Then walked away.
I looked at my assistant, who was practically in a trance, then snapped out of it when he left.
"Are you ok?"
"He's hot." She simply stated. "Do you guys know each other."
"Unfortunately so."
We walked back to my office together. My assistant was also one of my friends. I told her everything about him.
"Wait, aren't you married?" I raised an eyebrow at her.
"It's like how one tells a celebrity they're hot." She simply shrugged.
I don't know, but that made no sense to me.
By 5 I arrived to my house. Then I remembered Mason inviting me to dinner at the Rouge. Not invited, more like commanded.
What do I wear? Why do I care?
I settled for a blue dress that went till my knees with a white coat on top. Hair down, light red lipstick. Nothing special.
It wasn't a date, was it?
It's probably nothing.
At least that's what I tell myself.
I arrived at the restaurant 10 minutes early. It was pretty fancy.
No way... they had a massive aquarium full of fishes. I went there staring at it as if I was a kid with an obsession.
A few minutes later a voice behind me spoke out.
"Should I be jealous that they stole my date from me?" It was Mason.
He wore a suit, matching the colors I wore. He's hair was combed back and he had flowers in his hand. He offered his arm, and I took it as we went inside. The waiter led us to our table and Mason pushed my chair in as I sat. He gave me the flowers and I set them on the floor next to my seat.
"How do you know what colors I wear?"
"I know you, Roxy. I know you well enough to know what colors you'd wear."
We ate and talked. Not about business. Just stuff that happened after we graduated high-school.
Before I could even offer to pay for my meal, he already done so.
"That wouldn't make me much of a gentleman, would it?" He smiled slyly.
I rolled my eyes. As we walked outside, I glanced over to the fish.
"How pathetic am I that I'm losing to fish?" He out a hand over his heart dramatically.
"Maybe if you were a fish, I'd pay more attention to you." I teased.
He rolled his eyes.
He offered me a ride to my place, but something told me I couldn't say no, so I agreed.
I got in the passenger seat and he started driving.
Silence.
"Mason?" My words cut through the tension.
"Yeah?"
"What did you want to tell me that day? That day all those years ago, and then at the airport?"