Chapter 4 Marco Tullen The Unexpected Accident

As I noticed the confusion on my face, her cheeks turned pink, and I could see the mixture of fury and surprise in her eyes. A moment of silence hung between us as we tried to process what had just happened. I could hardly take my eyes off her, captivated by her striking presence and the intensity of the unexpected moment.

Her eyes widened in surprise, and a curse escaped her lips, contrasting with the beauty of her expression. I was momentarily stunned, wondering how such a stunning woman could utter such harsh words. As I watched, I noticed the liquid starting to spread on her clothes, which, by the way, seemed extremely expensive.

In a hurried gesture, I tried to apologize, but the indignation stamped on her face was evident. She began to complain, almost shouting, waving her arms and causing the liquid to splash everywhere, in a scene that seemed to unfold in slow motion before my eyes.

"Oh! I'm sorry, it was an accident," I argued, taking a tissue from my pocket to try to clean her. "Let me help clean this." I pass the tissue on her coat.

She seemed outraged. "Clean!" She shouted. "Look what you did to my clothes."

I felt a stab of indignation, hearing her implications. How could she think I did that on purpose? It wasn't my fault if she wasn't watching where she was going, especially while carrying a cup of coffee. It was her responsibility to be careful. Despite that, I continued my frantic attempts to clean as much of the liquid as I could, aware that I clearly wouldn't have enough money to pay for that outfit if it got damaged.

She pushed my hand away with irritation in her voice. "Please, take your hands off me. Look, you ruined an expensive coat." Her voice carried a mix of anger and frustration, while her eyes sparkled with indignation.

I tried to argue again, showing it wasn't my fault, but I was abruptly interrupted. She tore my hand from her clothes, pushing me back forcefully, causing the tissue to fall to the ground. I staggered a bit, and I saw a slight smile form on her lips. She tried to hide from me the satisfaction she felt seeing me almost fall back.

I open my mouth, but before I could utter a word, she leaves, leaving me alone and perplexed with the situation. I watch her walk away, her figure disappearing into the busy city sidewalk. I stand there for a moment, trying to process what just happened, not quite understanding what to do next.

As I watch, I notice she enters the building where I work. Considering her style of dressing and her arrogant posture, that immediately captures my attention, I think. No, it can't be Amora Roberts! The mere idea already makes me uneasy. I swallow hard, feeling a lump form in my throat, as I make my way to the company. I arrive at my department and try to dive into work, but the image of that imposing and mysterious woman continues to hover in my mind like an unwanted shadow. Is she who I think she is? This doubt haunts me throughout the day, making concentration an impossible task.

The worry consumes me. If it's really her, as soon as she finds out that I'm the one responsible for staining her extremely expensive coat, I'll be out on the street in no time. The thought makes me even more tense, as if I'm walking on hot coals.

The pressure mounts as I ponder the situation. I can't afford to lose this job. My family depends on me, and the uncertainty of the future weighs like an anchor on my chest. Even though I only work part-time, I'm determined to leave my old career as a luxury escort behind. I want to establish myself in this new path, build a solid foundation for the future I aspire to.

As the end of my shift approaches, I grab my things and quickly leave the office. The clock on my wrist strikes noon sharp, and I know I can't afford to waste any more time. I don't own a car and prefer walking, not only because it's good for my health, but also because it helps maintain my physique. The company where I work part-time is in the city center, while my next commitment is in a completely different place, and my boss is very strict about punctuality.

Blayde is not only my boss in this second job, but also a longtime friend. However, he maintains impeccable professionalism even when we're outside of work. Today, in addition to overseeing the agency's operations, he has a special client for me, a client whose demands are as specific as her desires.

Hurrying through the bustling streets of the city, I feel the adrenaline rushing through my veins. It's a quick and sometimes challenging transition, shifting from my administrative job to the glamorous world of luxury escorts. But it's a challenge I embrace with determination, knowing it's necessary to sustain my lifestyle and, more importantly, to honor the commitments I've made.

As I make my way to the escort agency, my mind is divided between the unexpected encounter this morning, the anticipation of meeting the client, and the certainty that Blayde will be closely monitoring my performance. He trusts me to represent the agency well and satisfy the demands of our most selective clients, and I don't intend to disappoint him.

With one last glance at the clock, I quicken my pace, determined to arrive on time and ready to face whatever the rest of the day may bring. With each breath, I mentally visualize the persona I must embody, leaving behind the discreet employee of the administrative agency and embracing the charming and sophisticated luxury escort that I must be now. It's a role-playing game that I've learned to master over the years, skillfully navigating between these two identities, always mindful of the delicate balance I must maintain.

Upon arriving at the agency, I'm greeted by Blayde, whose sharp gaze seems to assess my mood instantly. "You've arrived at the exact moment, as always," he says with a subtle smile, but his eyes convey underlying seriousness.

"Ingrid, your client for today, is an influential businesswoman," he continues as we walk through the agency's elegant lobby. "She values discretion above all else, so remember to keep your identity and personal matters strictly confidential."

I nod in understanding, absorbing Blayde's instructions with seriousness. I know the importance of maintaining clients' privacy and trust, especially when dealing with prominent figures like Ingrid.

"Furthermore," Blayde adds, leaning slightly in my direction, "she has a particular interest in intelligent conversations and subtle humor. Make sure you live up to her expectations in that regard."

With a determined nod, I promise Blayde that I'll do my best to satisfy Ingrid's needs and expectations. With the newly acquired information in mind, I feel even more prepared to face the meeting that awaits me.