ONLY YOU

The first thing I saw when I opened my eyes was a strange woman sleeping beside me. I stared at her for a few seconds, trying to remember her name. Nothing came to mind. Her blonde hair covered half her face, and one hand rested on the pillow close to mine. She looked peaceful, almost too peaceful for someone lying in my bed. I turned my head towards the clock on the bedside table. 6:15 a.m. "Damn it." I pushed the blanket away and sat up. My phone was already buzzing. Three missed calls from David. Two messages from the office. One reminder about an important meeting at nine. Great. Just what I needed. I rubbed my face and reached for my phone. "Good morning." The woman's sleepy voice came from behind me. I glanced over my shoulder. She was awake now, watching me with a small smile. "Morning," I replied. "You're leaving already?" "I have work." She sat up, pulling the blanket around her chest. "Can't you stay a little longer?" I looked at the clock again. "I have a meeting." "Of course you do." There was something in her voice that made me turn towards her. "What does that mean?" She shook her head. "Nothing." I stood up and picked up my trousers from the floor. I had met her at a private party the night before. We had talked, shared a few drinks and ended up here. That was all I remembered clearly. I didn't know much about her, and she didn't know much about me. That was how I preferred things. No promises. No questions. No one expected me to become something I wasn't. "What's your name again?" she asked. I stopped buttoning my shirt. "Why?" She gave a short laugh, but there was no happiness in it. "Seriously? You don't remember?" I looked at her. "Was I supposed to?" Her smile disappeared. "I'm Claire." "Right. Claire." "That's all you have to say?" I picked up my watch from the bedside table. "What else do you want me to say?" She looked away for a moment. "Nothing. Forget it." I slipped on my watch and reached for my wallet. She watched me as I pulled out several bills. I placed them on the bedside table. "Take this. It should cover your ride home." For a moment, she didn't move. Then she looked at the money. Then she looked at me. "Are you serious?" I frowned. "What?" "Is that what you think I'm worth?" I sighed. "Claire, I don't have time for this." She pushed the blanket aside and reached for her clothes. "I never asked you for money, Jack." I looked at her. "Then don't take it." "That's not the point!" Her voice rose, and I felt my jaw tighten. "Then what is the point?" She picked up her dress from the floor. "The point is that you treat people like they are things you can throw away when you're done with them." I said nothing. She put on her dress, then turned to face me. "Do you even remember anything we talked about last night?" I looked at my phone. "I have a busy morning." "Of course you do." She shook her head. "You know what? Keep your money." "I wasn't asking you to stay." "And I wasn't asking you to marry me!" Her words filled the room. I stared at her. She looked hurt, but she also looked angry. I could not understand why she expected something more from one night. I had never promised her anything. "Then why are we having this conversation?" I asked. She picked up her handbag. "Because I wanted to see if there was a real person behind all that money and coldness." I gave a small, humorless smile. "Did you find one?" "No." She walked towards the bedroom door. Before leaving, she turned around. "One day, Jack, you'll wake up and realize that money cannot make people respect you. And when that day comes, I hope you remember this morning." The door closed behind her. I stared at it for a moment. Then I looked at the money still lying on the bedside table. What a waste of time. I picked up my phone and headed for the bathroom. Cold water ran over my face as I stood beneath the shower. I tried to clear my head, but her words kept returning. Money cannot make people respect you. I shook my head. "Ridiculous." I had built my life around one simple rule. Never allow emotions to get in the way of business. People wanted something from me. Money, connections, attention or a place in my world. I gave them what I was willing to give. And when things ended, they ended. There was nothing complicated about it. At least, that was what I believed. By 7:20 a.m., I was dressed in a dark suit, white shirt and black shoes. I checked my reflection in the mirror and adjusted my tie. My phone rang again. David Wilson. I answered. "Tell me you're not calling to ask whether I'm awake." "Good morning to you too, Jack." "What is it?" "I've been trying to reach you for the last twenty minutes." "And now you have." David sighed. "Your nine o'clock meeting has been moved forward." I stopped adjusting my tie. "Moved forward to when?" "Eight-thirty." "Who approved that?" "That's what I'm trying to find out." I picked up my jacket. "Find out before I get there." "Already on it." "And David?" "Yes?" "Don't call me again unless it's important." He laughed softly. "I'll try to remember that." I ended the call. My driver was waiting downstairs when I left the building. Manhattan was already busy. Cars filled the streets, people hurried along the sidewalks, and the sound of horns followed us as we moved towards Sterling Entertainment Group. I looked out of the window. The city was full of people chasing something. Some wanted money. Others wanted fame, love or a better life. I had learned a long time ago that wanting something did not mean you would get it. I had wanted to build a company that no one could push around. I had done that. Sterling Entertainment Group has grown into one of the biggest names in music production, artist management and media partnerships. We worked with famous artists, rising stars and major entertainment brands. My name was known in rooms where decisions were made. I had fought too hard to let careless people put everything at risk. When my car stopped outside the company tower, I stepped out and walked through the glass doors. "Good morning, Mr. Anderson." I gave the receptionist a small nod. Two employees moved aside to let me pass. "Morning, sir." "Good morning." I entered the private lift and pressed the button for the executive floor. My phone rang again. David. I answered without greeting him. "What now?" "Jack, we have a problem." I stared at the lift doors. "What kind of problem?" "It's about the meeting schedule." "What about it?" "Your secretary sent the wrong time to one of our major partners." I closed my eyes for a second. "How wrong?" "She told them the meeting was at ten instead of eight-thirty." I checked my watch. "Are they here?" "Not yet." "Then call them and explain." "I tried. They're already on their way." "Get the conference room ready." "I will." "And tell her to come to my office." David went quiet. "Jack..." "What?" "Maybe you should hear her explanation first." I looked at the lift doors as they opened. "Did I ask for your opinion?" "No, but—" "Then get it done." I ended the call. My secretary was standing near the office entrance when I arrived. She looked nervous, and I could already tell she knew why I had called her. "Good morning, Mr. Anderson." I walked past her. "Come into my office." She followed me inside and closed the door. "Sir, I can explain what happened." I dropped my jacket over the back of my chair. "Then explain." She held a folder against her chest. "There was a change in the meeting time yesterday. I updated the calendar, but I must have sent the earlier version to the partners." I stared at her. "You must have?" "I'm sorry, sir. I didn't notice the mistake until this morning." "Do you understand who is coming to this meeting?" "Yes, sir." "Do you understand how important this deal is?" "Yes, I do." "Then how did this happen?" She swallowed. "I made a mistake. I know that. But I can call them again, send a new schedule and—" "You're too late." Her eyes dropped. "Please, Mr. Anderson. I've worked here for years. I know the company, and I know how important my job is. I can fix this." I leaned back in my chair. "Your job was to make sure this didn't happen." "I know." "Then why am I standing here discussing something that should never have been a problem?" She looked close to tears. "Everyone makes mistakes, sir." I stared at her. "Not mistakes that put this company in a bad position." The door opened. David stepped inside. "Jack, the partners have arrived." "Good. Take them to the conference room." He looked at the secretary, then back at me. "Can I speak with you for a moment?" "Not now." "It's important." I stood up. "Then say it." David hesitated. "She's worked here for years. She knows the system better than anyone else on this floor. Give her a chance to fix it." I looked at him. "Are you telling me how to run my company?" "No. I'm asking you to think about what you're doing." "Think about what?" "You're about to fire someone over one mistake." I gave a cold laugh. "One mistake can cost millions, David." "I know that. But she can still correct it." "Enough." I turned towards my secretary. "You're dismissed." Her mouth fell open. "Sir?" "Pack your things. Human Resources will handle the rest." "Please..." "That's all." She stood there for a few seconds, waiting for me to change my mind. I didn't. Finally, she lowered her head and walked out. The door closed quietly. David remained in the room. "That was unnecessary." I turned towards him. "Be careful." "I'm not trying to fight you, Jack." "Then stop questioning my decisions." He rubbed his forehead. "You keep doing this." "Doing what?" "Firing people the moment they disappoint you. You act like nobody else can do the job, but you keep losing good employees." I picked up my jacket. "Then find people who can do the job." "That's not the point." "David, I don't have time for another lecture." He stepped aside, but he did not look pleased. "One day, Jack, you might look around this office and discover that nobody wants to work for you." I stopped. For a moment, I remembered Claire's voice. Money cannot make people respect you. I pushed the thought away. "Find me a new secretary." David stared at me. "Already?" "Unless you want to take the position." He shook his head. "Fine. I'll speak to Human Resources." "Good." He walked towards the door, then paused. "There's something else." I looked at him. "What?" "Your schedule for the rest of the week needs attention. Whoever takes over will need time to understand how you work." "Then make sure we hire someone who learns quickly." David gave me a tired look. "I'll do my best." When he left, I sat behind my desk and opened my laptop. The meeting had been delayed by only fifteen minutes, but I hated the delays. I hated mistakes. Most of all, I hated having to repeat myself. My phone buzzed. I ignored it. It buzzed again. I reached for it, expecting another message from David. Instead, I saw a name I had not seen on my screen in months. Michael Banks. I stared at it. Michael and I had known each other for years. Before Sterling became what it is today, we worked together. We had shared plans, late nights and dreams that once seemed too big to achieve. He had been more than a business partner. He had been a friend. But time and old problems had placed distance between us. We still spoke now and then, but never like before. I opened his message. Jack, I hope you're doing well. I know it's been a while, but I need to ask you for a personal favor. It concerns my daughter, Emily. I'd really appreciate a chance to speak with you. I read it once. Then again. Emily. I remembered her as a little girl who used to follow her father around whenever Michael took her to the office. She had been quiet, curious and always full of questions. I had not seen her in years. I leaned back in my chair. Why was Michael asking me for a favor now? I typed a reply. What kind of favor? I stared at the screen, waiting for his answer. Nothing came. I placed the phone on the desk and tried to return to work, but my eyes kept moving towards it. A few minutes later, another message appeared. Jack, it's important. I wouldn't ask if I had another choice. It's about Emily's future. My fingers rested over the keyboard. I knew Michael well enough to understand that he would not ask me for help unless something was wrong. I picked up the phone and called him. It rang once. Twice. Then he answered. "Jack?" "Michael." There was a short silence. "Thank you for calling." "What's going on?" "I need your help." "You said that in your message. What exactly do you need?" Michael took a breath. "It's about Emily. She's looking for a job, and I was hoping you might have a position available at Sterling." I frowned. "A job?" "Yes." "What kind of job?" "Something in the office. She's hardworking, smart and willing to learn." I looked towards the empty chair outside my office. "Michael, you know I don't hire people just because someone asks me to." "I know." "Then why are you asking?" "Because she's my daughter." His answer was quiet. For some reason, that made it harder to dismiss him. I turned towards the window. Far below, Manhattan moved as if nothing in the world could ever go wrong. "Does Emily know you're calling me?" "No. I haven't told her yet." "Why not?" "I want her to have a fair chance. I don't want her to feel that she's getting something simply because she knows you." I rubbed my chin. "Send me her application." "I will." "And Michael?" "Yes?" "I'll look at it. I can't promise anything." "That's all I'm asking." I ended the call and placed my phone beside the laptop. Then I opened a new message to Human Resources. Find suitable applicants for the secretary position. I want the applications reviewed as soon as possible. I paused before sending it. Michael had asked for a chance for his daughter. I could give him that much. But I had no idea why the thought of seeing Emily again made me pause. My phone rang once more. This time, it was a message from an unknown number. I opened it. Jack, there are things about the past you should not forget. I stared at the words. Before I could reply, another message appeared. And Michael Banks may not be the only person who remembers what happened! I sat perfectly still. Who was sending me these messages? And what did they know about Michael and me?