Chapter2
1110 Words
Ryan Johnston sat in the penthouse lounge, waiting for his guest. He checked his wristwatch. It was 9:21 a.m.—nine minutes until his guest arrived. He decided to spend the remaining minutes scrolling through news sites.
His attention was drawn to a photo of a couple standing side by side. The woman had the perfect body of a model, while the man had his arm around her waist. Ryan slowly read the caption written in capital letters:
SUPERMODEL JOYCE KURT AND NEW BOYFRIEND...
Ryan couldn't be bothered to read the man's name, so he skipped it and moved on to the next line:
GO ON VACATION IN THE MALDIVES.
Ryan would normally have regarded the news as just another inconvenience that came with fame. He wouldn't have cared if it had been any other woman besides his ex-girlfriend, Joyce. Not that he cared anymore, anyway. But somewhere deep in his heart, the pain of her betrayal still lingered.
"Someone is here to see you, sir," a young man in uniform with a name tag reading James said.
"Who?" Ryan asked absentmindedly, his gaze still fixed on his phone. At that moment, his phone beeped, informing him of an emergency meeting that would begin in an hour.
"A lady. She said her name is Kate..."
"Let her in!" Ryan said immediately.
The young man hurried away and returned shortly afterward with Kate.
She was wearing an olive-colored short dress—not too short to be uncomfortable. Around her neck was a delicate gold necklace that matched her bracelet and wristwatch. She wore a pair of flat black sandals that complemented her tote bag and sunglasses, giving her a simple summer vacation vibe.
"Good morning, Mr. Johnston," Kate greeted him.
She stood for a few seconds before Ryan absentmindedly waved for her to sit, his eyes never leaving his phone screen.
Nevertheless, Kate summoned the willpower to remain on her best behavior.
Finally, Ryan looked up from his phone and silently studied her for a moment before returning his attention to the screen. Kate instinctively adjusted her dress under his scrutiny. There was something about Ryan's gaze that made her deeply uncomfortable. His piercing eyes and the awkward silence made her skin feel so hot that she suddenly needed to use the restroom.
"Excuse me," she said softly.
She returned a few moments later.
"What would you like to drink?" Ryan asked, pretending not to have noticed her anxiety.
"Thanks, I'm fine," Kate replied.
"If you insist," Ryan said, raising both his hands and shoulders in a casual shrug.
He slid a folder across the table toward her.
"Sign these documents, and I'll clear all the mortgage debts owed by your late father's company. However, this will only happen if you agree to act as my fiancée for six months."
"What?!" Kate asked in disbelief.
"You need money to save your late father's business, don't you?" Ryan replied indifferently.
"You can't possibly mean what you just said."
"H—how do you mean? Why me?" Kate asked, staring at the folder in confusion.
"Look, Miss Malcolm, you can take it home, read through it, and get back to me in two days," Ryan said as he stood to leave.
"Sorry, I have an urgent meeting to attend."
He paused at the door.
"Oh, one more thing," Ryan said, turning back. "Get your bags ready. We'll be flying to Dubai this weekend for a friend's wedding. Forward your home address to my email. I'll pick you up tomorrow evening so we can shop for the trip."
He gave her a brief nod.
"Now, if you'll excuse me, I really have to go."
The drive down to Davy's Logistics was a silent one. There was no music—just Kate alone with her thoughts. She kept her gaze fixed on the road ahead as she sped down the lonely highway. Thick woods lined both sides of the road.
She replayed her conversation with Ryan over and over in her mind. She considered calling Sarah immediately but quickly discarded the idea. She wondered whether she truly had a choice, as she had always believed. Regardless, she had to find a way to pay off the mortgage debt hanging over her late father's company.
Kate yawned from exhaustion.
She realized she hadn't had a proper night's rest in days. Keeping her eyes on the road, she briefly lifted her left hand from the steering wheel to massage the back of her neck.
She suddenly remembered that she hadn't replied to her emails in a long time. She sighed and tightened her grip on the steering wheel with both hands.
A few minutes later, she pulled up in front of a two-storey building that looked as though it was crying out for a fresh coat of paint. A few renovations would also have helped restore some of its former glory.
A few feet away stood an old signpost that read:
Welcome to Davy's Logistics
A large thumbs-up emoji sat boldly beside the lettering.
Kate walked past the signpost and into the building. A few customers were already waiting in the reception area to collect their packages. She walked through the reception and into a large room where several dispatch vehicles were parked.
"Good day, Miss Malcolm," Charity greeted, catching Kate's attention immediately.
Charity had been her father's secretary long before he passed away. She was a middle-aged woman with pale skin who had neither children nor pets. She had devoted so much of her life to Davy's Logistics, dating back to the days when Kate's father was still alive.
To Charity, her job wasn't merely a responsibility—it was a way of life.
"Do we have any messages?" Kate asked.
Charity hurried after her as Kate walked down the hallway toward a sizable room that served as Charity's office.
Charity paused at the doorway.
"Yes. A few notices came from the mortgage company. We're several months behind..."
"I left them on your office desk," Charity added, gesturing toward the door opposite hers.
"Of course," Kate muttered.
Everyone at the company referred to Charity as Miss C.C., short for Charity Chris.
"I know we're months behind," Kate snapped.
"I'm sorry... but two of the delivery trucks broke down this morning," Charity said, this time in a slower, quieter voice.
A heavy silence settled over the room.
Kate squeezed her eyes shut and clenched her fist, punching the air in frustration. Without another word, she pushed open the door to her office, stepped inside, and shut it firmly behind her.
She sank into her chair and buried her face in her hands.
Tears rolled down her cheeks.
- Writer
