Chapter 4 The Annoying CEO

I was totally set on not going to dinner with Mr. Starling. I didn't even bother replying to his messages. That night, I just carried on with my usual evening routine in my apartment, totally chill and relaxed. I was curled up on my couch, engrossed in the latest Netflix series I'd been binge-watching.

But then, out of nowhere, the doorbell rang. I paused my show, frowning. Who could that be? I peeked through the peephole and saw a man standing outside. He looked familiar, but I couldn't quite place him. After a moment of hesitation, I decided to open the door.

"Good evening, Miss Parker," the man greeted me with a polite nod. He was dressed in a crisp suit.

"Um, hi," I replied, still trying to place his face. "Can I help you?"

The man smiled, "I'm David, Mr. Starling's secretary. Mr. Starling is waiting for you downstairs."

I blinked, taken aback. "Wait, what? But I..."

He held up a hand, cutting me off. "Mr. Starling insists. He asked me to wait for however long it takes for you to get ready."

I stood there, totally gobsmacked. This was totally unexpected.

I blinked at him, my mind racing. "Wait, but I... I didn't agree to the dinner," I stammered, my heart pounding in my chest.

The secretary just smiled politely. "Mr. Starling insists," he repeated.

I took a deep breath, gathering my thoughts. "Well, I'm sorry, but I can't. I didn't agree to this dinner and I'm not going. Please tell Mr. Starling that."

Before he could respond, I closed the door, my heart still racing. I leaned against the door for a moment, trying to calm my racing heart. This was all too much. Too fast.

Shaking my head, I turned back to my apartment. My Netflix show was still paused on the screen, waiting for me to hit play. I flopped back onto the couch, grabbing the remote. I needed to relax, to forget about Mr. Starling and his dinner invitation.

I was about 15 minutes into my Netflix show when curiosity got the better of me. I paused the show and tiptoed back to the door, peeping through the peephole. To my surprise, Mr. Starling's secretary was still there, standing patiently.

I swung the door open, my eyebrows raised. "Why are you still here?" I asked, unable to hide my annoyance.

The secretary just smiled politely. "I'll wait until you're ready, Miss Parker," he said calmly.

I huffed, rolling my eyes. This was ridiculous. But if he was going to be stubborn, then so was I. I turned on my heel and stormed back into my apartment. I grabbed my sweater from the back of the couch and pulled it on. If Mr. Starling wanted to see me, then fine. I'd go downstairs, tell him myself that I wasn't going to dinner, and then this would all be over.

With that, I marched back to the door, my mind made up. I was going to put an end to this once and for all.

With Mr. Starling's secretary trailing behind me, I stomped down the stairs and out of the apartment building. His car was parked right outside, sleek and shiny under the streetlights. David opened the back door and gestured for me to get in.

"Please, Miss Parker," he said, motioning towards the interior of the car.

I blinked in surprise. Mr. Starling was already sitting there, looking as cool and composed as ever. I hadn't planned on getting in the car. I just wanted to tell him I wasn't going to dinner and then go back to my Netflix show.

But I was so annoyed and just wanted this whole thing to be over. So, I huffed and climbed into the car. But before I could even open my mouth to speak, the door closed behind me.

"Wait, I..." I started, but David was already in the driver's seat, starting the car.

"Mr. Starling appreciates your cooperation, Miss Parker," he said, pulling the car away from the curb.

Everything felt fast and sudden. I hadn't even had a chance to express my refusal to Mr. Starling. I was trapped in the car on my way to a dinner I didn't agree to. This was not how I planned my night to go.

Mr. Starling finally broke the silence, looking me up and down. "If I'd known you were into casual stuff, I wouldn't have booked a fancy restaurant," he said, his voice as cool as ice.

I glared at him, disbelief washing over me. Seriously? He could still say that after seeing my clearly annoyed face? But I wasn't going to back down. "Take me back to my apartment," I demanded, crossing my arms over my chest. "I didn't agree to this dinner."

Mr. Starling just shrugged, his expression unchanging. "The sooner, the better, right?"

I was fuming. The nerve of this guy! "I don't care if you're an investor in my project," I snapped, my patience wearing thin. "This is unprofessional."

He didn't even flinch at my words; he just kept his cool gaze on the road ahead. Before he could respond, the car suddenly stopped. I looked out the window, curious. We hadn't been driving for long, so we could be close to my apartment.

To my surprise, we were parked in front of a fancy restaurant that was just a few blocks from my apartment. I'd passed by it on my way to work countless times, but I'd never thought of eating there. The prices were way out of my budget.

As we pulled up to the restaurant, David smoothly hopped out of the car, handing the keys over to the valet; he opened my door with a polite smile.

But I was not about to give in that easily. "I'll wait in the car until Mr. Sterling finishes eating," I declared, crossing my arms over my chest.

Just as I finished my sentence, my stomach decided to betray me. It let out a loud rumble, echoing in the silent car. My cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Great, just great. I'd been so caught up in this whole drama that I'd totally forgotten I hadn't eaten dinner yet.

Before I could recover from my embarrassment, the other car door opened. Mr. Sterling himself stood there. "Come on, Evelyn," he said, extending his hand towards me. "Let's not keep the food waiting."

I was too shocked to protest as he pulled me out of the car and led me towards the restaurant.