For your eyes only
1102 Words
ANNIE
That’s it?
That’s really all I had to do? I could hardly believe it.
I couldn’t contain my excitement. I loved the disappointment.
I thought he’ll propose s*x for the job.
I must be dreaming.
“Yes. Yes, sir. I’ll do it,” I blurted out before he could finish, my voice sharper than I intended.
Faking a friendship with Rukky? Digging into his life? It sounded like the easiest thing in the world.
Like a game.
A game I was more than willing to play.
But while I was busy celebrating in my head, he was writing.
Something about the way he wrote made my stomach tighten.
Then, he stopped.
My heart hammered when I saw the words written in bold handwriting across the front:
FOR YOUR EYES ONLY.
What now? I thought to myself.
As if hiding something important, he opened the drawer beside him, his movements slow, deliberate.
I forced myself to stay still.
My pulse pounded in my ears, but I kept my composure.
It didn’t matter. Whatever was in that drawer, whatever secret he was tucking into that envelope wasn’t my problem.
I had the job. That was all that mattered.
Then, finally, he extended it, his lips curling into a smile.
It was the kind of smile that warned you, the kind that made your instincts scream at you to turn around and run.
But, I didn’t.
I was down for whatever.
“You start tomorrow,” he said, tapping on a device on his table.
Immediately, someone quickly entered the office and led me away.
As I got home, all I could think about was the envelope.
What could it be about? What was inside?
Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I sat on the edge of my bed.
My fingers trembled slightly as I tore it open, revealing a single sheet of paper. But what I saw wrapped around it made my stomach drop.
Panties.
A single red G-string.
What the f**k?
What could this mean? What was I supposed to do with it?
I flung it onto the bed and grabbed the note.
There better be some explanation. This better be a mistake.
No.
No, it wasn’t a mistake.
The note was blunt. No pleasantries. No explanations. Just pure, unfiltered command:
Date night tonight. 132 DNV. Wear the string and a red dress. 6:30 PM. Don’t be late.
I froze.
The audacity. The nerve. The sheer arrogance.
This was the same apartment where I’d forgotten my purse.
A convenient excuse to lure me back? A casual dinner under the guise of getting to know his secretary?
But why tonight? Why me?
Was Chloe going to be there? Was this some kind of setup?
There was only one way to find out.
I wasn’t about to be caught off guard. If he thought he could dictate the terms, he was sorely mistaken.
I started making plans immediately.
By 6:20 PM sharp, I was already there, standing at the front door, ten minutes early.
I felt lightheaded standing on my 4 inches heel. Everything around me seemed to spin.
To say I was nervous was an understatement.
But, inside the house had a different aura. Indifferent to my world that spun on the outside.
Inside, I could hear soft music playing on the background.
Taking a deep breath, I knocked lightly.
The door swung open almost instantly revealing Donavan or at least, that’s what I thought.
“Good evening sir,” I greeted with a smile. “Hope I’m not too early.”
He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, his brows raised with a smile on his lips. Something about him felt…off.
His hair was slightly messier than usual, his shirt unbuttoned at the collar.
He looked exactly like Donavan, but there was something just a little off.
Something I couldn’t quite figure out.
“Not at all,” he replied smoothly. “Come in and have a seat” he said, opening the door.
When I stepped inside and glanced around, I noticed a suitcase in the corner with a few neatly arranged clothes lying on the sofa.
Cautiously, I sat on the couch by the door.
“So, are you going somewhere? And, um, what about the purse?” I faked a smile, throwing a glance at the dinner table, expecting to see a candlelit setup or at least some effort toward our dinner date.
But there was nothing.
Not even the smell of dinner being cooked.
He then shut the door behind me.
“Purse?” he said, narrowing his gaze.
“Oh, right. You left it here last time.”
My stomach tightened slightly.
“Sir… you’re acting different.” I looked at him, tilting my head.
“Did something happen?”
He chuckled, stepping closer. “What do you mean?”
His voice was smooth, but there was something off.
Something tricky about it.
With a playful smile, he approached me and softly held my hand, carefully guiding me past the cluster of interlocking chairs by the dinner table.
With his right hand, he turned up the volume of the music playing in the background.
Looking into my eyes, he leaned forward and asked, "Will you dance with me?"
I could barely speak - I was beyond stunned.
At this point, I was even more confused than when I had entered the house.
Everything felt wrong. Unnatural.
“You’re not Donavan, are you?” I yanked my hand free from his grasp.
I expected a convincing answer. A stare. Something.
Anything.
But instead
A slow, mischievous grin spread across his face. “Well, that depends,” he said, slipping his hands into his pockets.
“Who do you think I am?”
My heart skipped a beat. I took a step back.
“What kind of game is this?” I asked, my eyes scanning the room for anything that could pass as a weapon.
Before he could answer, my phone buzzed in my handbag.
I reached for it and saw Donavan’s name flashing on the screen.
Hesitating for only a moment, I glanced between the person before me and the phone, then answered the call.
"Hey, Annie," Donavan’s familiar voice came through.
"Sorry, I’m running late. I should be home in fifteen. You’ll find the keys beneath the flower pot beside the door."
My gaze remained fixed on the man in front of me as my pulse quickened.
"I'm in your house," I blurted, my voice barely above a whisper.
Donavan paused for a moment, sounding confused. "I think you’re in the wrong apartment," he said.
- Writer
