Meeting my first love again: An Attractive CEO

"That one," the customer, who looked like he was in his early thirties said to Scarlet, as he pointed at a wine glass on the cabinet behind her. He was dressed in a red suit and he carried a black suitcase. He probably had a long day at work with the way he yawned almost every minute.

"The one with the red cover."

"Oh," Scarlet said and turned her back to look at the one the customer had just requested for. She covered her mouth with the back of her right palm as she yawned slightly. Maybe it was the customer's yawn that was contagious, or maybe she was also as tired as the man, she could not tell which, but she knew it was more of the latter. Her baggy eyes and the tiny dark circles around the corner of her eyelids made it seem like she hadn't had a good sleep for days.

"You mean Gyorles?" She asked the customer, although, not looking at him, as she picked up the bottle of wine he had requested for. "Yes, that. Whatever the name is." The man replied nonchalantly.

He pulled up the sleeve of his suit to check the time on what seemed like a million-dollar wristwatch. He looked up at her and said sternly, "room 20. Don't make me wait for my order."

"Cash or card, please?" She had turned to face him by now. "So, I can know whether..." Her voice trailed off as she stared at the customer she was talking to walking out on her without letting her complete her statement. She rolled her eyes but didn't pick any offence. She had gotten used to it. Working in Galway Hotels, the most popular hotel in the whole of Belgium, came with its prosand disadvantages. At least for her, it was far better than her former job in which she had gotten fired, about two months back, for something that was not her fault. Serving food and beverages to customers as home service here at Galway seemed like a better work to her because of the pay that came with it. But then, she had only just begun to adjust to the disadvantages that came with it. One of them was what the customer from before just displayed; rudeness.

Scarlet carried the tray which contained a glass of wine and a glass cup from the counter and headed to the room number the man had called for her. She carefully carried the tray in one hand when she was about to knock on his room door. Thankfully, he opened on the second knock.

"Drop it on the stool by the bed." He said as soon as he opened the door and closed it back immediately she walked in. He had changed his clothes by now and was now putting on a freer cloth of a baggy shirt and shorts. Scarlet did as she was told. She emptied the tray and placed the cup on the stool, but as she was about to place the glass of wine, it slipped from her hand to the floor. Realization hit her immediately as the bottle shattered on the floor with all its content splashing around, even on her clothes, and on the bed sheet laid on the bed next to the stool.

"Jesus Christ!" She exclaimed in shock as she bent down to gather the broken pieces of the glass. "Woman!" The customer exclaimed and banged his hand on the wall next to him. It was pretty obvious from the look on his face that he was pissed at the sight of the mess she had just made. "I ain't paying for another one, I hope you know that?" He asked with raised eyebrows as he folded his arms and stared sternly at her. Hearing what he said, she sprang up from the floor immediately.

"I am so sorry about this. I promise it was not my intention. My hand slipped and it fell." She said in the most polite manner possible, a look of actual sincerity on her face.

"And... and I'll call the cleaners to take care of this mess right away. But before then, should I make another order for the same bottle of wine?" He scoffed immediately after he heard her speak.

"How much do you think that wine costs? You work here, don't you?" She nodded her head slowly. The wine was indeed costly, but looking at the man, she felt he could overlook the broken one and get another one without giving her any trouble.

"Yes, I do. And I am so sorry about this. It won't-" "How much?" He cut in. "Uh?" "How much is a bottle of Gyorles wine?" He asked her, the stern look still on his face. So, he knew the name of the wine, she thought to herself as she recalled how he had referred to the wine as 'the one with the red cover' when he wanted to order. She had concluded that he didn't know the name of the wine and probably wanted to try something new. "I am talking to you, young lady!" He said, raising his voice a bit. If the room was not soundproof, she could bet that anybody outside the room or a passer-by would have heard him shout at her. She flinched when he shouted at her, even though he was not right next to her.

"It's... it's uhm, 180 EUR, sir." "You expect me to pay another 180 EUR over a new drink?" He asked and chuckled mischievously. "I have other things to do with my money, woman." "I am so sorry, sir. I never wanted it to sound like that in any way. I would-"

"180 EUR will do." He said as his eyes trailed her body from head to toe, concurrently licking his upper lip.

"Damn," he said to himself. "What?" Scarlet immediately walked closer to him. It was until she attempted to walk that she felt a sharp pain in her feet. She groaned and limped as she looked at the part of her feet where the pain came from. It was then she realized that one of the pieces from the broken glass had pierced her leg. The red liquid that was dripping from the injury mixed with the red wine that had poured on the floor earlier. She limped closer to him notwithstanding.

"Please, don't do this. I can't afford that much money." She clasped her palms together and raised them in front of her, to show she was sorry.

"Oh? It's fine then." He replied and shrugged his arms. This gesture surprised Scarlet that she raised her head to look at him surprisingly.

"That's it?" She asked and then gave a small smile. Before he changed his mind, she quickly thanked him.

"Thank you so much, I appreciate this. I'd call the cleaner now and-"

"I wasn't done yet." I knew something else would come up when he said he didn't want money, she thought to herself.

"Uhm. Yeah?"

"There's a second option for you if you can't do the first one, which you can't." He said and chuckled. She smelt danger and evil from his chuckles, but she didn't want to jump to a conclusion just yet.

"Oh, don't fret. This one is much easier. I'm quite sure you can afford it."

"And... what is it?" She asked as she raised her eyebrows a bit, looking at him questionably.

"Strip. Just one night will do." He smiled at her immediately after he said that. The grin on his face was wider than any other person's grin she had ever since in her entire life.

"What the heck, man?!" She blurted out. "How the hell is this better than the first option? I should pay with my body?" She scoffed and added, "not like you don't have the money to order another one."

She rolled her eyes at him and immediately turned. She was about to go pick up the tray from where she had left it, but she felt a grip on her hand immediately. He dragged her backwards by her arm and she fell to his body. She could feel the bulge in his trousers and without any further thoughts, he grabbed her from behind. Scarlet began to fight with all the strength in her to push the man away. He also wanted to satisfy his sexual urge at that moment at all costs. He aggressively turned her around, pushed her to the bed and forcefully pinned her to it. Transfixed on the spot with no other way out to free herself, she did the only thing possible at the moment.

She kicked him hard in the balls with her right knee. He stumbled backwards and groaned in pain, holding his penis. Immediately, she took that as a cue to escape. She immediately limped to the door and thankfully, he had not locked it earlier. She tried her best to run, despite her wound, knowing fully well that the man might come after her. Slamming the door behind her, she escaped and ran off.

Finally covering the cut on her feet with the bandage, Scarlet placed the nylon filled with cotton wool and the methylated spirit back into a small box. She carried the box from the floor, leapt to her wardrobe, opened it and placed it inside.

She then closed her wardrobe and walked back to her bed to lay it well. She was doing this when she recalled the day's event with the customer, and she yelled, scattering the bed even more. She closed her eyes-something she does whenever she felt tensed-to calm herself down. She felt a slight headache and she rubbed her forehead with her right palm. "I deserve better," she muttered to herself.

Although she knew the customer was wrong in so many ways and what she had done was in self-defence, she could still feel her heart beating faster than it normally does. She was worried, not about the customer's well-being, but her job. Her job was at risk now, because the customer might report her to the authority for breaking the wine, and also for hitting him. No one needed to tell her that they would not listen to her part of the story, because the customer is always right.

The thought of that only burdened her more, because she had nothing else to rely on and if she could lose the job, that was back to square one for her.

Her eyes caught sight of the standing mirror opposite her bed, and she walked further to its front to stare at herself. She folded her arms as she examined herself in the mirror. Her hands subconsciously moved to her black long hair as she traced its edges down to her neck. She could not help but stare at her own eyes-something she had grown to love about herself. When she was younger, her childhood best friend used to tell her that the thing he loved the most about her was her eyes.

They were ocean blue, and he would constantly sing the first two lines of Billie Eilish's Ocean Eyes to her.

I've been watching you for some time. Can't stop staring at those ocean eyes.

Her mind drifted to the days when he was still around. Those good times when she was still the happy Rosalia everyone knew. Despite her parents' lack of wealth, one thing she was always thankful for was that she had someone she could always lean on. He was always there for her, until one day, he wasn't there anymore.

What had happened, she could not tell, and that was one thing she had been asking herself ever since. The loud ring of her phone brought her back to reality. She hurried to her bed to pick up the call. It was from an unknown number, but she picked it up anyway.

"Hello?" She spoke first.

"Miss Scarlet Oxford?" The person on the other side of the phone said. It was a female's voice, and somehow, she could already tell who it was and why the person had called. Her heart skipped a bit as she closed her eyes again, rubbing her forehead with her free hand.

"Uhm, yes." "The director would like to see you in his office right away. Oh, and you should also know he hates tardiness. So, please, get here as fast as possible."

"Uhm, yes. I'll be there right away. Thank you." The lady hung up immediately. "God, I'm fucked." She said as she dropped her phone on her bed. Her palms had become sweaty by now, so she tried to clean them with her top. Her heart had not stopped beating fast either, and she needed no doctor to tell her that she was extremely anxious and scared.

"I hope this goes well. Today has been bad enough for me." She muttered. Then, she stood up to get herself dressed and hurriedly left for the director's office, but not after drinking the chocolate flavoured latte she had kept in her refrigerator.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Good day. Uhm, I got a call earlier to come to see the director for-"

"Miss Scarlet Oxford, if I am not mistaken?" The young lady of about her age, who was the director's secretary said to her. She immediately recognized the voice as the one she heard over the phone some minutes back. On her table was a name stand which had the name Chloe Hart written boldly on it, and the tag 'secretary' beneath the name.

"Yes. Yes, ma'am." She replied nervously as she rubbed her left hand with her right.

"A minute, please." The secretary said to her. She then picked up the telephone on her table and dialled a number. Immediately, the receiver picked up the call.

"Miss Oxford is here sir. Yes, alright. Right away, sir." She ended the call and placed the telephone back in its place. Then, she looked up at Scarlet.

"You can go in. That way." She pointed to an inner door. "

"Thank you," Scarlet replied as she tried to force a smile. She limped towards the door, her legs shaking as she took every step closer to the door. When she got to the front of the door, she paused. She closed her eyes again to calm herself down and after about ten seconds, she knocked on the said door.

"Come in." A loud, firm and husky voice replied from the inside. Scarlet turned the knob and sighed for the last time before pushing the door open. She walked in and closed the door behind her. Then, she turned, but her head was bowed as she stood in front of the closed door.

"I didn't summon you here so you could stand by my door to make a pity show." She heard him say.

"Have your seat," he added. I can do this, her subconscious mind told her. She raised her head and walked further into the office. With every step she took, her face remained glued to the director's face. It was either her vision was blurry due to her anxiety, or she was imagining things. But as she walked closer and closer, she realized that her eyes were not deceiving her after all. It was who she thought it was. The only thing that changed was his voice, but the curly black hair, the baby blue eyes and the pointed nose did not change at all.

"Have your seat," he said again, his raspy and deep voice resounded in the office. This time, she was already right in front of his table. Her eyes remained glued to him, as she looked for one more piece of evidence to make her completely sure that it was him. She dragged one of the chairs opposite his table forward and sat on it, facing him. He did not spare her another glance though, as his attention seemed to be on something on the small stool beside him. He turned to pick up something from the small stool beside him, and it was then she confirmed her thoughts as she saw a wound that was stitched on his neck.

"The star stitches," she muttered to herself. "Did you say something?" He asked as he finally looked up at her, placing the paper he had bent to take from the stool, on his table. She noticed the tattoos on his hands as he dropped the paper. He wore a round neck t-shirt, so she could see his bare hand right after his elbow.

"No... nothing, sir." She said as she stared at him. Her eyes remained glued to his eyes, looking to see if he would also remember her. It is dim, she thought. The stitched wound on his neck in a star sign confirmed it all.

"Good. We have a policy here at Galway Hotels, and I believe you were told everything when you accepted the job..." As he spoke, her eyes drifted to the name tag on the table-Christopher Kent-with 'director' beneath his name. She was right. It was him. It was her long-gone best friend.

"A very important customer of ours reported that you broke his glass of wine, and when he requested another one, you hit him and took off." He said and paused, the words rolling out of his mouth effortlessly. Scarlet, who heard what he had just said clearly, and was supposed to defend herself by letting him know he had tried to harass her, sat there staring at him. She could not help but wonder when he had learnt to speak with a French accent. A lot had changed about him, including his speech. By now, she had zoned out. He was staring at her and she also sat there staring at him.

Finally, he has recognized me, she thought. She was about to vent her anger on him, and ask the questions she had wanted to ask him ever since he disappeared without a goodbye when he spoke.

"I believe you are not deaf, are you? I ordered you to pack your bags and leave and you're still seated here staring at me like a homeless person?"

"I didn't-"

"You're fired." He cut in and stated firmly as he pushed the paper in front of him on the table towards her.

Her eyes moved from him to the letter. On it were the words; 'sack letter'. She swallowed hard, trying to process the whole event.

Scarlet had stood up by now, holding the letter in her hand. It was going to be a very tough time for her, searching for a new job that pays as much as the hotel does.

So, she did what was required of her. She begged. "Sir, I swear the man told lies. I did what I did in self-" Chris did not let her finish her sentence, as he cut in by slamming his hand on the table. His eyes-the cornea precisely-were beginning to turn red as he glared at the lady in front of him.

"Get the fuck out of my office, woman! I won't let anybody ruin my hard work of so many years by their stupid mistakes and lies." He then scoffed and added, "And what did you even want to say? That the customer lied? Oh, spare me the lies. He wanted to sue you in court, but because it would stain my name and make me infamous, I persuaded him not to."

"But sir, I swear I wasn't-" He immediately picked up the telephone on his table and dialled a number. "Hello? Get me the men. They have a bag of trash to throw out here." The words stung more than the reality that she was just being fired. What hurt more was that her childhood bestfriend who for some reason didn't recognize her, was about to throw her out like trash, and there was nothing she could do about it.

A wincing, pained expression flashed across her face. Her lips pressed tight as her eyes focused on the man before her. Despite her going stone-faced, her eyes were still about to tear up. Her stomach dropped as she clutched at herself, gripping her elbows and rubbing her arms in self-comfort. She still found it hard to take everything in, as she stared into his eyes, trying to figure out if he didn't recognize her. Does he truly not know me? She thought as she rubbed her arms continuously and stared intently at him.

He turned his back to her and stood up from his seat to the shelf behind him. As much as she wanted to yell at him and curse loudly, or vent her hurt to something, anything, she was not able to. A tear slipped from her eyes but she wiped it off immediately. Giving herself the utmost respect, she turned and walked out of the room before whoever he called gets there and tries to harass her.

"Nonsense!" Chris growled immediately as he heard the door of his office close. He made his hand into a fist and used his other hand to scatter the files on his table.

"What audacity! Wanting to drive my customers away right under my nose!" He recalled how the customer had come to meet him in his office without an appointment. The customer happens to be one of the main shareholders of the hotel, and he was currently making a deal with him. If anything goes wrong, he'd cancel the deal and that was it. Chris fumed with anger once again as his pointed nose scrunched and his face drew into a frown.

The lady almost made him lose his deal with the man. If he had, it would have cost him a lot, because the contract was a very important one.

"Balderdash," he muttered to himself again as he walked around his office. This was not his first time firing his workers. He was a perfectionist when it came to his business, and anybody who doesn't do whatever he says, he never hesitates to fire such a person.

After himself, another thing he cared about was his business and he could not let anybody ruin it for him. Not when he had gone this far to get here.

"And one stupid person thinks she can take me back to the past due to her carelessness. Stupid." He paused for a minute in front of the glass window in his office-which was on the top floor of the hotel-and looked outside from it. His mind went back to the lady he had just fired. While he yelled at her, his body felt some way. There was some sort of familiarity he felt towards her. He squinted his eyes, something he does when he tries to think about something. He racked his brain for a few seconds, trying to figure out whatever it was that made him feel that way, but he just couldn't wrap his head around it. He couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was. Then, he rolled his eyes and shrugged it off. Whatever it was, he cared less about it.

Almost immediately, there was a loud bang on his door. "And who is that uncultured person?" He asked loudly just before he turned to see the person that banged his door hard and walked in without knocking or waiting for his permission before walking into his office. He scoffed as he saw who it was.

"And why would you walk into my office like that, Alexander?"

"It's Mr Ryan to you whenever we're at work, Chris." The man, who looked like he was in the same age-grade as Christopher, walked further into the room. On getting to the chair opposite Chris' table, he raised his black suit jacket a little before sitting on one of the chairs.

"I didn't ask you to sit, Alexander." Acting like he didn't hear what he had just said about referring to him as Alexander at work, Chris sternly replied, calling the name Alexander again intentionally to annoy him, as he walked over to meet him. He stood right in front of his table, arms akimbo as he stared at the man seated in front of him.

"Neither did you ask me to come in, Chris. But guess what? I did, and there's nothing you can do about that." Alexander shrugged as his green eyes focused on Chris' blue ones.

"This hotel belongs to me, and so does this office. Mind your words or I could throw you out!" Chris exclaimed the last sentence as he banged his hand on the table, which made Alexander chuckle a bit. He touched his blonde hair as he continued staring at Chris, enjoying the way he was fuming with anger. It was nothing new to him though. He had always known Chris to be be cocky because the hotel belonged to him, and he never wanted to listen to anyone when it came to things concerning his hotel.

"It seems your default way of proving you're the boss is throwing people out," Alexander started in the calmest tone of voice possible. Then he placed his arms on the table, a mischievous smile appeared on his face again as his bushy eyebrows were raised in the process.

"I'm not surprised anyway, it's not your first. One thing I wouldn't allow though, is you throwing out and firing an innocent person." He scoffed and added, "why would you even fire someone without listening to their point of view?" Immediately, Chris burst into laughter. His laughter resounded in the whole office as he pulled his office chair closer and sat on it. Alexander remained seated, but he was beginning to get annoyed with the way Chris laughed at his words. He calmed himself down by stroking the back of his neck; a reflex action he does whenever he wanted to control himself from flaring up.

"And who are you to tell me how to run my establishment?" Chris asked him after he was done laughing. By now, his face held the stern look it usually holds. It was like his default look at work so that everyone can fear him and do whatever he orders them to do.

"I am one of the most important supervisors of this hotel, Chris. If my opinion wasn't needed in the first place, you wouldn't have made me a supervisor." Alexander said and sat upright. He had calmed down by now, so he tried to speak to Chris in every polite way possible.

"You cannot continue to fire your workers anyhow because you want to satisfy customers, Chris. Because you pay them for their services does not make them less human."

"Oh, I can see you're here to lecture me," Chris said as he picked up a book on his table and opened it. He began to flip through the pages as if he was reading them, whereas he was just doing that to avoid giving Alexander the attention he wanted. He knew if he did that, it would annoy him the more, and he would probably leave his office when he sees that he was not given the attention he craved for.

"I am not here to lecture you, Chris. I just want you to know the lady you fired did not deserve that-"

"Because I didn't mention that I am aware of how you have been chasing her around for the last couple of weeks?" Chris cut in, still flipping through the pages of the book.

"Sometimes I even come to work and see you with her at the counter. Now you're here accusing me of firing her?" He suddenly stopped flipping the pages of the book and dropped it on his table. "Now, tell me," he said, glaring at Alexander who sat there speechless. "Should I say you're here to defend her because she's your current chase or you're here to defend her because she didn't deserve to be fired?"

"You're so arrogant," Alexander said as he stood up in anger. Chris' words stung him because he knew there was some truth in it. He was on his way to Chris' office to report some of the affairs of the hotel to him like he usually does, when he stumbled upon Scarlet. She was in tears as she headed for the elevator. He has asked her what happened and she had explained to him everything that transpired between her and the man from the hotel room to how she had just gotten fired. Hearing this, he had stormed to Chris' office to explain to him that Scarlet was not at fault. He had no plans to cause a scene, but seeing that Chris would not stop being rude to him, he spoke his mind.

"You're so arrogant and you act like you rule the entire universe. You lack humanity and you're anything but humble!" He exclaimed, pointing his index finger at him. Chris just sat there staring at him, a wide grin on his face.

"You know what I love to see most? Pain. I love to see the pain on the faces of people like you," he said calmly. "Besides, why are you even screaming? You're in my office and you're shouting at me in that manner? Because of some dirt that I removed from my white before it stains it?"

Alexander banged his hand on the table. "You have no right to call a fellow human dirt."

"And you have no fucking right whatsoever to tell me what to do! I own this hotel! I made you one of the supervisors and if I wish, I could also fire you just like I did her!" Chris former back as he sprang up from his chair, glaring at him with red eyes on an angry face. Alex shook his head as he stared at the man before him. Chris was a bit taller than him, so he had to raise his head a bit to look up at him.

"I won't let a thing like you make me lose my temper. And over what? Something unnecessary. But I don't blame you, because if it had been someone you truly care about, you wouldn't react this way. But then, you don't have anyone you genuinely care about." Alex said and chuckled.

"Of course, you can't value things you don't have. You would never know how it feels like to care for people because you're a rich and spoilt brat."

"Get the fuck out of my office!" Chris shouted. "Now!" He added. Without another word, Alexander picked up his phone from the table and walked out of the office, slamming the door behind him. As soon as Alexander left, he felt a sharp pain in his chest over what he said just before left.

"How would he know?" He asked himself and scoffed. "That I could never know how it feels to care for people?" He added and laughed. The laughter was more like an anger-filled one.

"He doesn't even know what I've been through. Now that I'm here, trying to maintain my business from crashing, he's here telling me shit?" He scoffed again.

"Bastard!" He cursed loudly, scattering everything on his table once more.