One night mistake with my boss

The phone on the table made a loud noise and immediately Sonia turned around and rolled her eyes. She needed no one to tell her who was calling. Of course, it's June, her best friend and confidant. June pulled some strings for her to get this job since she finished with a good grade and needed a very respectable job. She walked over to the table and picked up the phone, bothering to place it on her ear, she left it on the table and walked over to the wardrobe. “You do know how to make an impression on a person.” Sonia said loudly and chuckled. “I can't believe I am going to be working for Trump's estate. It is a dream come true for me and something I'm going to live to remember.” She said and just then she heard a knock on the door. “Don't tell me you were talking and driving, girllll.” she screamed, and June's voice filled her ears from the phone. She quickly went over and opened the door, throwing herself into June’s arms. “I know you aren't going to go out, you have such a boring life and you should be happy you have me in life come on we need to go out to celebrate your new achievement. It's not everyday you get to work for the most prestigious family in the whole of California.” “Why are you so obsessed with this prestigious family? I mean they are humans just like__” June folded her arms, staring at Sonia like she'd just committed a crime. “You need to stop with this your thinking,it will do you no good, besides I heard the Trump's estate will no longer be led by Mrs Helen Trump but her only child.” “So much for being rich.” Sonia muttered. June gasped dramatically. “Did you just say so much for being rich? Sonia, you’re starting work in Trump’s Estate. That is literally the place people fight tooth and nail to enter. Do you know how long I’ve been praying for this day for you?” Sonia laughed and shook her head. “You talk as if I’m going to meet royalty.” “You’re meeting money,” June corrected. “And in this America, money is royalty.” Sonia rolled her eyes again but couldn’t hide her smile. She slipped into her black heels and grabbed the small silver purse on her table. “Fine. One hour. We celebrate, then we come back home. I start work next week and I need my body intact.” June snorted. “You’re twenty-four, not fifty. Let loose a little.” “Yeah, yeah. Let’s go before you start giving me long motivational speeches.” June grabbed her hand and pulled her out into the hallway. “Trust me, tonight is going to be unforgettable!” They arrived at the rooftop lounge in downtown California, filled with neon lights, soft music, and the right amount of chaos. June dragged her straight to the bar before Sonia could even blink. “Two shots of tequila for the lady starting her dream job!” June announced loudly, and a couple of people nearby clapped. Sonia felt her cheeks burn. “Can we please calm down?” “Nope.” June pushed a shot glass into her hand. “To new beginnings.” Sonia sighed, raised her glass, and whispered, “To not messing up my life.” The tequila burned her throat but warmed her chest. One shot turned into two, then a fruity drink appeared in front of her, then another. June was shouting about how Sonia would soon be rich enough to buy a private jet, and Sonia was giggling like it was the funniest thing she had ever heard. Hours passed. Sonia’s head felt light. The room tilted slightly, but it wasn’t unpleasant. She felt free,maybe too free. “Okay… okay…” she slurred, holding onto June’s shoulders. “I think I’m d-done. Let’s go home.” June nodded, equally drunk. “I booked a room upstairs. You can’t drive. I can’t drive. We’ll just crash for the night and head home tomorrow.” “Bless you,” Sonia groaned. June helped her up the stairs to the luxury hotel floors connected to the lounge. They reached a quiet hallway lined with golden wall lamps. “Room 608,” June muttered, searching her purse. Sonia leaned on the wall, trying not to fall asleep standing. She blinked slowly. “You’re the besssst friend in the world.” “I know.” June giggled, still searching. “Oh shoot, I left the card downstairs. Stay here. Don’t move. Let me go and get it.” “Okay…” Sonia mumbled. June hurried down the stairs, leaving her alone in the silent hallway. Sonia’s head throbbed lightly. Her vision blurred. She glanced at the shimmering room numbers,600, 602, 604… She squinted. 608… 609… 610… They all look the same. She frowned at the carpet. Why was it moving? Or was she moving? “Sonia Branson, get it together,” she muttered and started walking… or wobbling… forward. Her mind was foggy. The air smelled like rich hotel perfume and something sharper,whiskey. She reached a door that looked… right. “608…” she whispered. She didn’t check twice. She didn’t think. She just turned the knob. It opened. Nelson Trump’s head pounded. The night had been nothing short of a disaster. His mother had arranged a “meeting” with some woman from a wealthy family,her latest attempt to set him up. Instead of attending a date, he had been ambushed by a flirtatious, overly made-up woman who called him “Nelsy Baby” and kept trying to sit on his lap. He left her at the hotel restaurant without a goodbye and came upstairs to his reserved suite, wanting nothing but silence and whiskey. He loosened his tie and poured himself another glass. The room spun slightly,he had drunk too much trying to endure the woman his mother sent. He rubbed his forehead and muttered, “Never again.” Then the door opened. He frowned sharply. “What the hell—?” A woman stumbled inside, nearly tripping over her own feet. Long black hair flowed down her back. She wore a fitted dress that clung to her curves and sparkled faintly under the golden light. She looked drunk. Very drunk. “Hi…” she breathed, blinking at him like he wasn’t real. Nelson stiffened. “You’re… early.” She giggled. He clenched his jaw. Of course. His mother must have sent another woman to his room. Probably a desperate attempt to force him into marriage. He let out a cold, irritated sigh. “Get out.” The woman didn’t move. She just stared at him, swaying slightly. “You… have beautiful eyes,” she whispered. Nelson froze. Was she serious? She stepped closer, slowly, like the floor was unreliable. He stepped back automatically. “Stop,” he warned. She didn’t. Instead, she whispered, “Please… don’t shout. My head is… spinning.” Nelson’s irritation wavered. She wasn’t acting seductive or manipulative,she was genuinely disoriented. He exhaled. “You’re drunk. You need to leave.” She shook her head, her eyes half-closed. “I just need… to lie down… for a minute.” Before he could react, she stumbled forward. He reached out instinctively to catch her. Their bodies collided. Her breath washed over his neck—sweet, warm, intoxicating. Nelson’s heart thumped once, hard. She lifted her head slowly. Their faces were close enough to share the same breath. Her eyes were hazy but soft… innocent. Not calculating. Not planned. An unexpected warmth spread through his chest, unsettling him. “You smell nice,” she whispered. Nelson’s throat tightened. “This is a mistake,” he muttered. She nodded slowly… and yet her fingers lightly gripped his shirt. “Maybe… but it feels… safe.” Safe? He swallowed hard. Her hand moved to his cheek. Her touch was feather-light, trembling. “I’m… tired,” she whispered. He should have stepped back. He should have pushed her away. But he didn’t. Something,maybe the whiskey, maybe the loneliness, maybe the raw sincerity in her voice,held him still. Her lips brushed his lightly by accident. His breath caught. She blinked up at him… and kissed him again. Not forceful. Not aggressive. Just soft… questioning… lost.