Loved by the billionaire

Catherine started her day as usual. She always had her to-do list prepped ahead of time. A part of her day that she always enjoyed was staring out of the window. It gave her a sense of peace, watching as busy people made their way out. Cars honked erratically. She just loved how unpredictable this city was.

It sure different from the small town she grew up in. This city was a dream. It encompassed everything she ever wanted. Truth be told, Catherine was a dreamer. That's all she ever did.

She had the sweet taste of satisfaction on her lips as she made her way to her small kitchen situated at the entrance of her cube-sized apartment. Her breakfast was always simple; avocado toast and runny eggs.

"Shit," she muttered under her breath, noticing the faucet was still broken. It was an old building, so most of the appliances and amenities were archaic. At night, the hissing sound coming from the radiator put them to sleep. It was going to be one cold winter.

After spending the most part of her life serving tables, she made a conscious effort to incorporate a lot of healthy lifestyle choices. So, most part of her time was spent in her small kitchen.

There are certain things fast-food chains don't tell you about their methods and procedures. That's why she never ate out, at least that was the reason she gave her friends. The real reason was the crippling debt she was in.

The only form of pity Catherine encouraged was self-pity. Any other kind was not welcome.

"Cathy! Could you please get me my towel? I forgot it"

"Again!", she groaned, frustrated. Ruby was Cathy's friend and roommate, sometimes a pain and other times, a gem.

"Please, Cathy!", she cried out. Catherine clung onto her pen knife tightly, trying her best to think only happy thoughts.

"I'm going to get it!", she raged, walking to Ruby's bedroom and grabbing the neatly folded towel from the bed. The house was a two bed, one bath. That was the best she could get with the budget she had in New York. It was even worse for her because she moved in summer when the housing market was intense.

"Here", she stretched her arm and handed her the towel.

Catherine was a writer. The main reason she moved to the city was because of her non-existent writing career. She had already started talking to agents about her new book. She had emailed a ton of them and today, for the first time, one agreed for a meeting.

The venue was a local coffee shop in downtown Brooklyn, one she visited often because of their impeccable service and nice view of the city.

"Cathy! Wear a skirt, you'll look more professional", her roommate yelled from her room.

"It's a casual meet up. I'm not trying to apply for an office job", she chuckled.

Gathering her things from the drawer, she stumbled upon a piece of paper. It was the note her mother had given her the day she applied for her first job. It said : "Good luck my little cat cake".

Catherine tore it up, squeezed with all her might, and threw it into her small stainless waste bin. "No negative energy today", she whispered as the surrounding air became thin.

She held herself together for a solid second, but she knew she had lost control when she heard a wheezing sound coming from her throat.

"Catherine! Catherine!", her roommate called out. She ran through Catherine's door, which stood ajar, placing her hand on her back and rubbing vigorously. Catherine was having a panic attack. By now, she was used to it. It happened every now and again. She gets this sinking feeling in her chest, then her throat feels like it's closing in.

"Are you okay?", her roommate asked as her breathing gradually returned to normal. Catherine nodded, grabbing her manuscript and laptop from the desk. She sprinted out of the apartment with jeans, a sweatshirt and running shoes.

As usual, the train was packed and her anxiety had caused her to miss her regular seat. Surprisingly, the thirty-minute transit felt shorter today and sitting between people wasn't as suffocating as usual.

She got to the coffee shop, her usual breath of fresh air which now it seemed like it was taking her breath away, and not in a good way.

Catherine scanned the room thoroughly for any new faces. She didn't bother calling the agent because by now she knew everyone who visited the coffee shop, even the employee ' names by heart.

There was a man at the far end with a laptop in front of him. That was her guy. Immediately, they locked eyes. He waved, gesturing for her to take a seat.

"A pleasure to meet you, I'm Dave," the man had a British accent with not many striking facial features. He had one of those boring librarian's, prim and proper looks that Catherine hated.

She held out her hand to take his, which was already in the air, expectant. "I'm Flora, Catherine Flora".

"I know who you are. I mean, would I be here if I didn't?", he chuckled dryly. She didn't find it funny. "Silly me", she said, forming a half smile.

"Well, let's get down to business, shall we?", he chuckled again.

"Let's", she got her backpack off the desk and struggled to get her huge manuscript out of it.

"There would be no need for that. I still have the copy you emailed me"

"Oh, okay", his tone was disorienting. She couldn't tell when he was joking or serious.

"Your book, your book is....", he paused, taping the desk with one finger.

"It's umm...", he stopped his incessant humming as the sound of broken glass and sighs of concern filled the café.

Catherine's attention shifted to the table on the opposite end of the coffee shop. It seemed like a newbie had spilled coffee on one of the businessmen that patronized the shop.

"Do you know expensive this suit is?", he yelled at the young girl who knelt before him. She gave him a pitiful look, apologizing at every chance she got.

Catherine didn't quite understand it. These men visited the café next every day for the last month. She'd join in on the staff gist most weekends when she really didn't want to go home. The "men in black "as they were called, barely ordered anything, when they did, they paid extra, too much even.

She grabbed a tablecloth and attempted to dab his suit with it. The man shifted swiftly in an unexpected manner, causing the girl to fall down.

"Are you crazy? You're really trying to ruin my suit!", at this point, people had their phones out already.

Catherine was fed up with all she had seen. She marched up to the table, ignoring the company of bodyguards that stood tall.

"With all due respect, sir, I think you are the one who's crazy," the young man's face had lost all its expression. His eyebrows had formed a crease, and he was now smirking. The hefty men beside him waited patiently for an order. When they got none, they stood still, silently cheering their boss on.

Tessa tugged on Catherine's jeans, begging her to stop talking. "I need this job, stop it!", she mouthed slowly.

"And who do you think you're talking to?"

"You! It's a bad thing you didn't wear your name tag," Catherine was incredibly feisty. She wasn't one to sit and watch whilst someone was humiliated. Especially by privileged people.

"I don't need one", he said with a smug look. "My name is Donovan Smith, remember it!". He exited the coffee shop, making sure to give the manager an apprehensive look.

How could a person be so arrogant?

All phones were down and inside the owner's bags or pockets as the party exited the shop.

"Are you crazy? You almost got me fired", Teresa let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you", she said, hugging Catherine tightly.

"Almost?", Jerry, the manager, chuckled dryly.

"What?", Catherine said with concern.

Without taking a second look at her, he said, "Tessa, you're fired!".

"What! Why!", she said with a shaky voice.

"I'm sorry, it's just business", he said in a reckless abandon.

"But you know my mum is sick and I'm the only one she has. How am I going to find a new job?", she was already sobbing.

"I'm sorry, the situation cannot be helped. It's either you or me. He can buy this shop if he so pleases".

Catherine felt a surge of guilt flow through her being. If she had just sat still. With all the chaos she had forgotten she had an interview to attend. She turned in the direction of her table with so much hope just to find the table empty. Dave was gone.

Teresa left the coffee shop immediately. She needed to inform her mother about the new development and also get her prescription from the doctor.

"Shit", Cathy mumbled, packing all her items into her bag, lugging it out of the shop and onto the train.

Sadness had filled her expression, and the situation worsened when she walked in on her roommate making out with her boyfriend on the couch. "You have a room Ruby! ", she rolled her eyes.

Catherine got a bag of chips from the kitchen cabinet and walked sluggishly to her room. She changed into her usual outfit; a huge casual shirt and men's boxers. She always said they brought her comfort. The sound of the front door shut was a clear indicator that Adam was gone. And the sound of Ruby's footsteps fast approaching proved her right.

"I'm coming in", she said, pushing the door open.

"Okay, huge shirt. What's the matter?", she pouted. Catherine heaved a deep sigh.

"Speak! ", Ruby's tone was impatient. She knew how this usually paned out. Catherine would get upset, make a huge deal about something, then struggle to vocalize her problems.

"I got Tessa fired today," she said in a reckless abandon.

"How?"

"Some dude named Donovan Smith-"

"Wait! Stop there ", Catherine was confused but obeyed.

"Did you just say Donovan?", Ruby continued.

"Yes", Cathy nodded.

"Okay, continue", she was grinning like an idiot.

"He came to the café, and I was talking to the agent and-", she spoke in a lackluster manner.

"Wait! The agent actually came? Did you finish?"

"No", she shook her head. "Can I continue?", she rolled her eyes in irritation.

"Sorry, fine", Ruby pouted as she raised her hands in defeat.

"As I was saying,", she cleared her throat, then continued. "Interview, glass broke, Tessa spilled coffee".

"Tessa spilled what?", he eyes bulged out.

"Yeah, it was an accident. She spilled coffee on the guy's suit. But she apologized," Catherine emphasized each word.

"Then?", Ruby was impatient.

"Then, she tried wiping it off, and he started screaming".

"Was she trying to ruin his suit? I mean-"

"That was exactly what he said. I just couldn't take it anymore, so I stood up and yelled back at him," Catherine's words were slow with a hesitant tone when she noticed the change in Ruby's countenance.

"Catherine Flora, what have you done?"

"What?"

"You just couldn't sit through it for a solid minute? Now Tessa's going to be homeless"

"But, it wasn't my fault"

"Sure." Ruby rolled her eyes with distaste.

"I'm really sorry Rubs. What can I do now?", her tone was incredibly apologetic.

"Beg!" Ruby said with certitude.

"Beg-g?", Cathy stuttered.

"Yeah," she pulled Cathy's laptop closer and typed swiftly. "Here", she pointed the screen, revealing her search. She made sure to point at the screen, making reference to the office address boldly written.

"Huh? You want me...to beg, at his office?," her eyes were wild with irritation.

"Teresa's mother, Cathy, think," Ruby's tone was soft and patient. It made Cathy contemplate carefully.

"Okay, I'll do it. What's the address?," she grabbed a piece of paper and pen from her drawer. When she had finished scribbling down the address, she put on her sweatshirt and pants.

"What are you doing?"

"There's no time like the present"

"And what does that mean?"

"It means, I'm going right away"

"But, you don't have an appointment"

"I'll get one!", Cathy was halfway to the door when Ruby yelled, "What are you going to say?".

"I'll figure it out," she yelled back.

The train ride to zenith incorporate was long, but at least she got her regular seat, the closest one to the door. Immediately, the train stopped. She pushed herself through the door, making sure to account for all her possessions before running off.

"Woaw," she stood in awe of the massive skyscraper that was Zenith. "I see the need for the name now". Cathy watched as well-dressed men and women made their way in and out.

"Should have worn a suit," she whispered. As hard as Cathy tried to blend in, it was impossible. She could be spotted from a mile away.

Getting into the building proved quite difficult with the huge men that stood tall at its entrance. She took an uncomfortable position near a street corner. When there was a shift change, she made her move.

She approached the elderly man who replaced the previous guys. He looked like he was in his sixties. "Hello, good afternoon. I'm looking for Mr. Smith".

"Which one?"

"Shit, I didn't know there were two, Mr. Smiths," she mumbled.

"There are two Mr. Smith's young lady, the younger Smith and the older Smith," she was shocked he could make out what he she said. Wasn't he wearing a hearing aid?

"Okay, then I'm looking for the younger Smith"," she explained.

"He got in much earlier, then left. You can come back tomorrow 7am"

"7am? Who wakes up by 7?,"

"Mr. Smith does, every day ". Why would any self respecting billionaire come to work at such a weird time?

"Sorry to ask but, will you be here tomorrow?"

"Yes, 6:30. I can tell him you came by. What's your name?"

"Flora, my name is Catherine Flora. What's your name?", she asked politely.

"Gale"

"Okay Gale, see you tomorrow," she smiled warmly.

Audacious, arrogant and damn attractive. Donovan Smith was these three things and more. 6'1 embodiment of pure masculinity and an irresistible aura. The stunning twenty-three-year-old has a hand full of magazine articles to his credit.

The business tycoon, amongst other names he was referred to, was the one that stuck out most. So much so that he was featured on Forbes as the most influential male in the world of business. Editors from the New York Times knew his name too well.

He was Donovan to business partners, colleagues and associates, dick head to his competitors and rivals and Dony to his family and friends.

Donovan woke up happy and very expectant this Monday morning. He was finally going to put the lid on this acquisition deal that had been lingering for too long. He had a nice view of the building he planned to purchase from a small cafe called Nexco.

"The car is ready," Kenny, his right-hand man, spoke softly as he walked into the huge study of the Smith mansion.

"Okay, Kenny, "he buttoned up his navy suit and headed out of the study.

"The coffee shop, right?", Kenny asked.

"Yeah, he responded ". They drove out of the underground parking at full speed to downtown Brooklyn.

They got to the coffee shop and headed in. Most times, he never even ordered coffee. It was Kenny and the other guys. Today was different. Kenny stepped out for a second to answer a call.

"Dony," Kenny called out when he returned.

"What? ", Donovan pulled his head from out of his phone.

"Mr. Stanford insists you have more men".

"Okay"

"Okay? I thought you hated the attention"

"I really don't mind it today, I'm in a good mood"

"Suit yourself, "he shrugged his shoulder.

"I'd like a cup of fratte with milk and don't be light with the sugar," he placed his order.

"And, I'd like a double expresso," Donovan spoke to the dull-looking girl who had her hair wrapped up in a messy bun. She looked like she wasn't feeding properly.

"Even with my heavy tips, they still don't seem to upgrade," he mumbled.

The girl walked to the back of the counter, holding a wooden tray that had more weight than she did. Donovan observed the stain on the back of her shirt. He cringed. Even if he was never diagnosed, he acted like an OCD patient. After sometime, the bodyguards Donovan's grandfather, Mr. Stanford had requested for showed up.

The girl returned with the tray after taking too long. She held the tray with one hand, used the second hand to set Kenny's coffee on top of the coaster. She took a giant stride to the other part of the table, attempting to hand Donovan his coffee. Her attempt failed as she tripped over her leg, spilling the content of the mug all over him.

Donovan was enraged, not just because the suit was a custom made gift from Canali, but because he'd have to address his business partners in it. On the day he finally gets to sign the contract, this happens. "Shit," he groaned, frustrated.

His irritation grew as she grabbed the tablecloth. He knew what she was trying to do, and it did not make him happy. Donovan moved forcefully as he used the heel of his shoe to push backward. His unexpected movement sent her to the floor, where she deserved to be after her careless act.

"Are you crazy? You're really trying to ruin my suit!", he yelled, trying to put himself together. He glared at her for a while till Kenny got his attention.

"Lets just leave. People have their phones out." Donovan picked up his wallet, sticking it into his pocket. As he tried fitting his monocle back into his pocket, a small brunette appeared in front of him. He often described girls by the colour of their hair, as disrespectful as it was. It worked for him.

"With all due respect sir, I think you are the one who's crazy ", Donovan was confused. Who was this insignificant person spewing rubbish? His eyebrows had formed a crease, and he was now smirking.

***

Donovan got out of the café wondering how someone so insignificant had the nerve to challenge him. He smirked at the thought.

"Where next?", Kenny asked.

"To the office, Kenny, where else?"

"Okay sir, to the office". Donovan got into the car, a Rolls-Royce Cullinan. It was his favorite vehicle, especially for occasions like this. He changed quickly, opened the car door, then moved to the front seat. Kenny joined him immediately.

"I called Fischer. He said he'd meet you at the office," Kenny informed him.

"Does he have a choice? We're the one's doing him a favor"

"You call buying up a man's legacy for pennies saving him?", Kenny had an exasperated tone.

"Kenny, if you have something to say, say it now."

"Nothing sir"

"No speak, I'd like to hear all about it"

"I said Nothing sir!," Kenny face the passenger seat where Donovan sat, taking his hands off the steering wheel for a quick second.

"Kenny! Are you trying to kill us?", his attention quickly shifted back to the road.

"Shit!" he yelled, taking a hold of the wheel, and steering the car to the appropriate lane.

The two men sighed with relief as the car slowly came to a halt in front of Zenith. They alighted and almost immediately, the private valet emerged.

Donovan's reputation precedes him. So, whether it was house or office staff and colleagues, everyone respected him. On entering the building, he was greeted by security at the revolving doors.

The atmosphere in the lobby changed instantly as people walked with their head facing downwards, making sure not to make eye contact.

His amber eyes could pierce into any soul he pleases. The imperturbable CEO had class in every step. His aura was matchless. The only person who would command this much respect other that Donovan was Stanford Smith.

Kenny pressed the button on the elevator and led the way. Shortly after, Mr. Fischer walked in to go over the final pages of the contract.

"Finally," Donovan sighed with relief as he stretched in his chair. The deal was closed.

"Ready?", Kenny spoke from the door frame.

"Yes," he answered, standing up from his leather chair.

***

"You called for me?"

"Sit down Dony", Mr. Stanford laid back on a beside the infinity pool. It was a very open space with different sitting arrangements.

Donovan sat down in the chair next to his grandfather with lips pursed. The man laid down facing the sky with an avocado mask and two cucumbers circling his lids.

He wondered what had been so important to be discussed now. "Oh, that's right, I forgot my tablet", Donovan shot out of his seat and made way to the pocket doors.

His grandfather snapped his finger. Donovan paused. The man gestured for the boy to get back into his seat. That was how he was trained, with snaps and eye signs, hand waves and gestures, less with words. He only got sympathy from his grandfather once every three years, which was generous on his part-so he believed.

"It's not about business. It is, but you don't need a tablet for this," Donovan sighed in anticipation, not in a pleasurable way.

"Donovan, you know your brother's campaign just launched," Donovan sighed loudly.

"Let me finish ", Stanford glared.

"I need you to organize some events for charity. It could really pull more attention," his grandfather said, all giddy.

"Yes...Sir", he chuckled dryly, placing a half-assed smile on his face.

"We need somebody, like an assistant. That's the assignment I'm giving you".

"To find an assistant for Nigel's campaign, I'll be on it-"

"Before the end of tomorrow", Stanford cut him off.

"You'll help the campaign manager. I can't trust your brother with anything. You're very fast witted, that's why you were put in charge of the family business!", his grandfather reminded him often about how his brother was dull or slow-witted.

He couldn't blame Nigel for shying out. The boy was always so timid. He would cry when his grandfather gave an instruction or corrected him.

A part of Dony still resents Nigel for leaving him to shoulder everything at such a young age. While Dony was taking multiple AP classes in high school and studying five languages after school, Nigel was busy playing baby in a program abroad.

Stanford snapped his finger once more, and jolting Donovan back to the present. "How on earth do I pull this off in less than forty-eight hours?" he mumbled.

"Yes sir"

"I think we're done here! Get going. Chop, chop", he reclined back into his chair and, replaced the cucumbers on his eyelid.

Catherine woke up by 4am to get a head start. She knew it was going to be a long day.

She went by her usual routine, never breaking out of it. Ruby was also dressed. She had a flight to catch by 6am.

"You ready? You sure you can do this"

"I'm sure!" Catherine nodded in affirmation.

The two girls exited the apartment and got on the train.

Day two at 'Zenith Inc'. Like Gale said, he was on duty this morning. It was 6:45, and this time, Catherine dressed the part. Even though the clothes weren't here's, she wore them well.

"Hi, Gale," Cathy greeted warmly.

"He's in there, but he's really busy. You can go in anyway. You have an appointment, right?". She nodded comically, walking through the revolving doors.

The entire office building was filled with angst. Catherine observed how people huddled up in groups, talking with low voices.

"Yeah, this one girl was crying ", a staff said.

"I saw two of them with mascara ruined," the other one continued.

What could they have been talking about?

She mooched aimlessly through the lobby, approaching the first lady she saw. "Mr. Smith's office please," she looked so good, no one would refuse a word from her mouth.

"Which Smith?", the young lady asked politely with a smile spread across her face.

"The younger Smith," she answered hesitantly.

"Donovan? Take the Elevator, top floor, first door on your right," she walked swiftly with precise steps.

"Hi, I'm here to see Mr. Smith, Donovan," she approached the secretary. It seemed like Mr. Smith liked his girls in pencil skirts.

"Umm, are you here for the Secretary's position?".

"Yes," she nodded, even if she didn't know what the girl spoke of.

"Sit there," Catherine was directed to a small waiting area. There were five ladies seated. They looked incredibly weary. Even with the trench coat she wore, she was freezing. Cathy couldn't tell whether it was from the air conditioners or the girls she sat beside.

The office door opened, and a lady came out sobbing.

"Next," the lady with the thin skirt gestured towards the office door. Everyone sat quietly, looking at each other.

"Me!", Cathy raised her hand. "This way," the secretary said.

She walked in slowly, calculating every step.

"Hello," the office was so dark, she found it difficult to see. Silence filled the air.

"I'm not in the mood for pleasantries. What's your name?"

"Catherine Flora,"

"What is your educational qualification?"

"I have a college diploma"

"And why are you here? What did the major in? ", his tone became aggravated fast.

"Literature in English, sir," Catherine was more than irritated.

"I can't even say you're underqualified. You don't meet any requirement by professional standards. Leave now!", he growled.

"No," she responded firmly.

"Kenny, turn on the light," he demanded. "Say that again!", his eyes had now darkened from amber to hazel.

"I said, No! I'm not leaving till you hear me out!", she was resolute.

"Lily," he spoke through the intercom on his desk. In a second, Lily appeared.

"Send everyone home." He waved his hand in irritation.

"Yes, sir," she answered. He faced Catherine, holding her eyes firmly. "And who do you think you're talking to?"

"It's a bad thing you didn't wear your name tag, Donovan".

His eyebrows formed a crease. He never forgot a face.

"You!"

"Catherine, my name is Catherine. You got my friend fired! She really needs her job-"

"Shut the fuck up! Do you really think I give a shit? I was willing to forgive her, but when you showed up, the entire game changed. Maybe you should have kept quiet," he yelled.

"You are an egotist sociopath. How can someone be so cruel?"

"It's life, sweetie. Now get out of my office," he pointed towards the door. Catherine was enraged. He couldn't even listen to her plight. She had made up her mind that he wasn't someone worth talking to. She had to take matters into her own hand. She texted Teresa.

"Do you have any of the videos that were taken yesterday?"

"Yes, why? I hope you're not planning on doing anything stupid. "that was exactly what she planned to do. With Ruby in Philadelphia for the weekend, she was home free. Catherine took the video to an online forum. She decided it was best to ruin his reputation, since talking wasn't going to work.

She waited for a couple of hours, after a while, she started getting responses. People liked and shared the post. An hour later, it went viral. Social media was buzzing with the news of the most desired business man who controls one of the largest international conglomerates being a monster.

Catherine sat down in her apartment with the sweet taste of satisfaction on her lips. Her joy was cut short after a call from Ruby.

"Cathy, Tessa told me you asked for the video. What happened?"

"What happened is justice. I put that jerk in his place"

"You know you could get arrested for this, right?"

"How?"

"Stop asking me stupid questions and take down that post before it's traced back to you." Cathy was thorn. She remained reluctant. Instead, she stood her ground.

A few hours later, she received an email demanding she take down the post. After careful contemplation, she ignored. Instead, she edited the post, typing a huge block of text and adding her full name to the end.

A minute later, another email was sent. This one was less friendly than the last. It even had a few claims of arrest sprinkled here and there.

***

Cathy woke up to a tone of missed called from a number of people, including Ruby and Teresa. She knew that couldn't be good. When she finally checked her post, it was no longer there. What she did notice was an email demanding for her presence at the police station.

She began to panic. Cathy picked up her bag and stuffed some clothes into it, getting ready to head to Tessa's house.

"What have you done, Cathy?", she whispered. On opening her door, she realized she had company.

***

"I can explain. It's not that deep," she explained to the policemen who walked past her. This was the first time she was at a police station for committing a crime.

She was filled with angst, waiting patiently for someone to talk to her. They were all purposely ignoring her.

"She's over there sir," for the first time, she heard someone speak. From behind the bars, she struggled to see.

"So we meet again," a familiar voice spoke.

"Unfortunately. I wanted to see for myself that you were behind bars, that's where people like you belong".

She held the bars as tight as she did her tongue.

"What happened, sweetie? Cat's got your tongue?", Donovan taunted.

"No, I'm just wondering"

His expression showed confusion. "You still have time to think. Maybe I was wrong about you after all," he chuckled in a mocking manner.

"I'm wondering how a guy like you sits on an office chair and hands people's checks," she scoffed.

"You know what I'm wondering? How someone of your status found your way into my office," he emphasized each word, grinning widely.

"Dony, Mr. Stanford's been calling non-stop. He wants to know about the secretary status," Kenny explained. Donovan held the bars tightly. "shit!," he mumbled.

"Fuck! You know you screwed me over, right?"

She chuckled, "I'm glad I could help"

"You know what? You actually can. You're coming with me," Donovan spoke softly after carefully sizing Catherine.

"I'd rather rot in jail!," she scoffed.

"Be my guest," he responded, turning away.

"Wait!", she shouted. He smiled, Turing back slowly.

"What?", he said curtly.

"I had one last request"

"That is?", he smirked.

"Rot in hell, sweetie," she smiled mischievously.

Donovan was confused. He expected a heartfelt apology, but got this instead. He was agitated. It got her excited. He and Kenny made their way out of the station.

After a while, they were back. "I'll get out of here! You scratch my back and I'll scratch yours"

"I'm listening," she was intrigued.

"Your job is simple. It's just for a day. You have to show up and shut up. You think you can do that? Given your umm...history," Donovan mocked.

"Yes," she nodded.

"Use your words sweetie," he grinned with delight.

"Yes!", she yelled. Kenny walked over the one of the desks. He whispered something in the officer's ear. The next thing Cathy knew, she was out of jail and in his car.