The Billionaire's Assistant

It was the same house I grew up in but somehow it seemed colder, more frightening than usual.

I was in my upstairs bedroom cowering under my favorite Bratz duvet while I listened frightfully to the heavy footsteps ascending the stairs, intent on my room.

Tears coursed down my face as I silently pleaded for the angry man to leave me alone. Assuming the fetal position, I shut my eyes firmly.

I heard the creak of my door and strangely I could smell the alcohol from the man at the door through the thick material of the duvet over my head.

"Alex," he drew the first vowel in my name. "You've been a naughty girl."

Suddenly the duvet was yanked from me leaving me cold and vulnerable to the man with the strange red eyes and feral smile. The scent of alcohol was almost choking at that point.

"Pl . . . ease," was all I could mutter through my torrent of tears.

He made a tsk sound, the animalistic smile still on his face before he lunged for my throat.

I bolted up in bed breathing heavily and scanned my dark surroundings. The fear still gripped my heart so I switched on a light.

The light fell on my sparsely furnished bedroom and raw and unbelievably pleasant relief flooded my body. I tunneled my fingers through my damp hair and focused on slowing my erratic breathing.

Nightmares like that were starting to get more frequent but there was nothing I could do about it short of going to a doctor. As twisted as it sounded I would rather suffer incessant nightmares than go to a hospital.

A shadowy form moved to my left and I drew back in fear. I was about reaching for my bedside lamp when the shape flew out of the dark and unto my leg.

I almost screamed before I made out Morgan's dark brown head on my lap. I clutched my heart. "Morgan! Don't do that please!"

He cocked his head at me as if saying 'what the heck did I do wrong?'. I chuckled and scratched his head.

Morgan was the brown Cocker Spaniel I once rescued. His left eye looked normal but the truth was he couldn't see a thing through it. He'd been the one constant in my life and although I was too busy to appreciate him properly like he deserved, I loved him to pieces and he knew it.

Suddenly overtaken by love for that shaggy, huge dog, I kissed him between the eyes. His tail perked up happily.

I took a deep breath and rubbed my eyes. Looking at the alarm clock on my bedside table, I saw the time was 5.08.

I didn't have to get ready for work for another two hours so I got up and headed downstairs to the kitchen.

The house was tiny. Just a two bedroom apartment I shared with my mom.

What it lacked in space it made up for in hominess. With its bright white walls with blue trimming and the small blue throw pillows on the couch, I couldn't ask for a better home.

I trudged to the kitchen that was separated from the living room by a high arc, and sat on one of the four wooden bar stools surrounding the island.

Everywhere was still dark as I sat. This was my favorite part of the day, the time before the sun came up and I was reminded of how hectic my life really was.

I went through my boss' schedule in my mind.

I worked as the executive assistant to Carson Miller, the CEO of Miller Inc., and the overall boss of the company that revolutionized the tech world by developing the first fully automated ambulances. Being his executive assistant I got to manage and plan most of the details of his personal life but since his work life was his personal life I end up managing both.

He was much of a recluse when he wasn't out and about with various women and frankly I didn't see what they saw in him. Sure he was good looking and rich but that was where everything stopped.

After making a mental note to call Jeffrey Daniels' assistant and schedule a meeting, I decided I'd spent enough time in the dark and went upstairs for a shower.

After a warm shower and with the nightmare almost forgotten, I threw my dull brown hair into a bun and scanned the row of dresses in my closet.

I always did this even though my closet was filled with the same shade of grey dresses and skirts.

I chose a knee length dress one with shimmery material and clumsily put it on almost tripping over my feet. After, I stood in front of my floor-length mirror-another morning ritual I wanted to kick but somehow couldn't-and scanned my figure.

I always told myself that I wanted to see how I looked in my work clothes but deep down, I knew that wasn't fully the reason. The truth was I wanted to check if my secret wish had come true and a part of my body had changed overnight.

But every morning my hopes were dashed. I'd still wake up with too wide hips, skinny legs and an almost non-existent bust. Every morning my crystal blue eyes and long jaw would stare back at me tauntingly.

Backing away from the reflective material that brought the real me painfully to fore, I slipped on my one and only pair of black pumps and put my laptop in my black leather bag.

I connected my black ear buds into my phone and after giving Morgan a kiss on his head, I was out of my room and down the stairs.

It was 6.30 when I locked the door and selected my 'Serenade Me to the Lair of the Beast' playlist.

With Imagine Dragons' Demons blasting directly into my ears, I walked for half an hour until I got to my favorite Starbucks just two blocks from Miller Inc.

Pushing the door in I took in the empty shop filled with the heady smell of coffee and I instantly felt alive.

I had a stupid smile on my face as I walked to the counter. My favorite barista, Carmine, was wiping down the counter when he spotted my smile. Rolling his dark eyes upwards he stopped what he was doing and leant his elbows on the now clean counter.

"This is my kingdom come, this is my kingdom come," I started by way of greeting.

"Imagine Dragons, Demons." He answered proudly with a shake of his curly black head.

"Very good!" I replied, impressed.

"It was too easy." An easy smile had slipped into his cute face.

This was our standard morning procedure. It consisted of me coming in with a random song lyric, him trying - and until recently - failing miserably to identify it. Then I'd order two espressos and a cappuccino while he tried to score a date with me.

It wasn't like I didn't want to go out with him, I just had a phobia for getting close to men. I'd been through some horrible stuff in the hands of the opposite species so I was taking an indefinite break from the whole relationship thing. I didn't want to hurt Carmine's feelings so I just made up excuse after excuse. I realized that I hurt his feelings more by refusing but it's a one-way street with me.

"The usual?" he asked.

"Yes please."

He nodded and proceeded to start filling my order.

"So," he started and I internally rolled my eyes. God this guy is unrelenting. "I was planning on having a little party at my place, wanna come?"

I busied myself getting my purse out and digging around in it so I didn't have to answer immediately.

As I pretended to get out some money to pay I saw him drop the three coffees on the table with my peripheral vision and I straightened out and dropped my purse in my bag.

"Maybe later, Carmine," I gave him a blinding smile and dropped the money on the table. Winking, I sashayed out.

As I crossed the threshold of the foyer towards the elevator Bruno Mars was wailing into my ears.

I clicked the button for the 17th floor and waited. Miller Inc.'s headquarters was at the heart of Miami, an imposing 20 floored glass and steel high-rise. It stuck out like a finger in the sky.

The doors pushed open to reveal a pristine white lobby with white leather seats at the right, a table holding coffee and snacks was tucked at the left-hand corner and right in front was a shiny white marble table top with a swivel chair behind it.

Everything in here was so white I thought I'd stepped into heaven.

I quickened my steps and went through the hallway on the left. Stopping in front of the door marked CEO I pushed it open.

It was empty and lit by a thin sliver of sunlight that managed to find its way through the thick curtains covering the glass walls. Three of the four walls were made of glass because Carson said it made his office less like a prison and his work less like hard labor.

Sometimes I didn't understand why he was so moody, it wasn't like he had problems. I took care of all of those!

Putting my boss out of mind I settled the coffees in the middle of the desk and turned on the desk lamp.

With the light of the lamp and Ed Sheeran in my ears I drew the left curtain open and stood looking out into the world below. I sighed. It was times like this that I enjoyed my job. Times when I didn't have to worry about arranging drama-filled family meetings or organizing impromptu trips to South Africa.

I finished opening the curtains and arranged his desk. When I was done I hurriedly popped over to my office that was separated from his by a wall of frosted glass and a brown door - the only one in this building so far - and dropped both my coffees.

Before I left I finished one in one gulp, grateful for the caffeine in my veins.

At exactly 8.00 the private elevator in Carson Miller's office pinged opened and out walked the devil himself quietly speaking to the Bluetooth headset on his ear.

At the sight of him my stomach plummeted. Sigh! Another work day begins, Lex.

He sighted me standing in front of his desk and nodded at me before taking his seat behind the table.

He kept talking about construction and machines while I looked him over to ascertain what mood he was in.

His strong jaw was locked as a muscle twitched sporadically on his forehead, his grey gaze was directed, unseeing, to something behind me. He was dressed in a tailored suit that screamed expensive coupled with a white shirt that had its top buttons undone. He gave off the domineering businessman without even trying.

After the silence lasted for what felt like days, he sighed and pressed the button on the headset. Finally he turned his intense gaze to me.

"Crap! I thought I could beat you coming in today. Guess I'm really out of my league in that category. Don't you ever sleep?" One of his dark eyebrows lifted. His voice was too low and gentle and so did not match the image he presented. At all.

"And a very good morning to you too, Mr. Miller. I did sleep fine thanks for asking. The sun is already up so we can expect a blistering day with temperatures in the thirties, and to be honest I don't think it's fair that only roosters are allowed to start the day screaming."

Rule number one of working efficiently with Carson Miller: always have a joke handy. He'll never laugh at it but at least it puts him in the only mood I can work with; a good one.

"You and me both sister," he shook his head and ran a hand through his black hair.

I felt the air shift in my favor and took in an inaudible breath.

"So Miss Holdman, it's a whole hour before anyone comes in, how about we get some work done?" His bored eyes defeated his enthusiastic tone.

"I'm shaking with anticipation," I replied in the same fashion.

I hate Mondays.

I hate Mondays.

The day was my worst in the entire week. I mean who likes Mondays?

Somehow people always seem to still live in the weekend on Mondays.

So for a full ten hours I was on my heels correcting other people's ridiculous mistakes.

There was the case of a lost shipment of silicon in Germany, a mishap with one of the robots in New York and apparently an employee got knocked off his feet in Tampa trying to dodge a crane's load that had accidentally swung in the wrong direction. Luckily he only sustained a few minor injuries. Which was good since the last thing I needed was a litigation.

By 8 I was completely exhausted and sat rubbing the bridge of my nose. Every muscle in my body ached at the simple action of moving my hand back and forth.

I heard my door open, the click of heels on the marble floor and the dull thud of something flat hitting my desk.

I opened my eyes through my fingers and found Alex standing before me with that her usual impassive look. She'd been working for me for four years now and I still couldn't tell what she was thinking at any point in time.

Of course it didn't matter what she thought as long as she did her job well but I did wonder at a few things about her. Like why she always wore the same unflattering shade of grey no matter what clothing item it was, how she always knew the right random thing to say at the right random time and what on earth she was always listening to with those black earbuds in her ears.

"I've arranged a meeting with Jeffrey Daniels, the man your mother wanted you to speak with? Also I just got off the phone with a Patricia, she sounded really upset, I think you should call her back."

I groaned. Could this day get any worse?

Patricia was my newest what's-her-name.

What's-her-names were women I used to fill the yawning, black void in my soul. I called them that because I never seemed to remember their names after a week. If they lasted that long.

Truth be told, I didn't enjoy using women - unlike the media so untruthfully relays - I just craved human contact but since the only friends I actually enjoyed being around lived almost a million miles away and these women practically threw themselves at me, who was I to say no and disappoint them?

I really didn't know what these women saw in me that after a week of breaking up with them they still called to find out if I was actually serious, which shows they knew nothing about me, because if they did they'd know that once I'd made up my mind, nothing could change it.

"If she calls again tell her I'm dead."

"Do I get to make up how you died?" Alex's face morphed into the only other expression I was sure she could muster: fake enthusiasm.

I wanted to laugh but lately it just seemed that the void managed to swallow the sound and any form of happiness before it escaped and appeared on my face.

"Whatever, just make sure she doesn't get two kilometers near me."

She nodded. "It's getting really late, would you like me to order you some dinner?"

I glanced at the little wooden antique clock I got from my mom for my twenty-fifth birthday, it said 9.40.

"No, it's fine. You should go home, I'll finish up here."

Something I said must have shocked her as she drew back, her mouth forming a small 'o'.

"Are you actually serious?" She asked wide-eyed.

I narrowed my eyes in warning. Taking this cue, she straightened out and cleared her throat. "Gee, I don't know what to say. Thanks, I guess? I had plans anyways. See you tomorrow then?"

I waved her off and started scanning through the documents she placed on my desk.

I didn't know how long had passed before my door opened again. I'd propped my stockinged feet up on my table, leant back into my chair and was reading by the light on my desk.

"I thought I told you to go home?" I questioned without looking up.

"Unfortunately, your royal bossiness, your stupid orders don't apply to me."

I snapped my head towards the masculine voice. With the light coming from the empty hallway behind him he looked nothing more than a tall, slightly muscular silhouette.

Until he turned on the overhead light and I finally recognized the boyish smile and warm hazel eyes of Casper.

We went to the same high school and only recently reconnected. Unfortunately Casper was a party animal and we reconnected right when the black void got bigger and heavier to carry than usual leading me to become as sociable as a lump of coal.

"Casper, what are you doing here by . . ." I consulted the clock. "Almost ten-thirty?"

"What does it look like? Saving your granny ass from becoming dust."

My face contorted into a frown. "I like my granny ass, thank you."

He shook his head and ambled over to the coat hanger by the door. Grabbing my leather jacket he walk over and violently pushed my feet off the table. Handing me the jacket, he angled his head towards the door.

I groaned. "I'm sorry Cas, but not today."

"Why not?" His brown hair fell over his eyes and gave him a fearful look.

"Because I'm in the middle of a shit storm here," I gesticulated towards my desk that was littered with brown files. "And I can't take a break."

"Of course you can! It's just one drink. Besides, you've been so stick-up-my-ass serious lately and I'm worried about you," his face softened. "Just one drink and I won't bother you anymore."

"What if I say no?"

"I can't force you, obviously, but guess who recently found out that a certain competitor is one wrong move on the stock market from complete bankruptcy?" The smug grin on his face told me everything. I immediately perked up at this news.

Casper was the editor-in-chief of Bus Daily, a magazine that was like our bible in the business world. It shared everything a business person needed. From share values to stock market predictions, they wrote it all. If I was being honest with myself, that was partly the reason I became friends with Casper and I suspected he knew.

"Which competitor?" I asked, trying to keep the excitement out of my voice.

"Uh-huh." He shook his head. "I'm not telling you until you have that drink with me."

"Are you kidding me?"

"Final chance, Carson. Get up and come have a drink with an old buddy and I'll give you the scoop before we publish tomorrow." He made to leave.

"Fine! I'll come."

I pulled out my comfortable sneakers from their place under my desk and struggled into them all the while cursing Casper, the void in me and life generally. I put on the jacket and joined him at the door.

"This better be worth it," I gave him my glare that I've been told says 'I'll rip you open and sell your organs in the black market if you test me'.

"Trust me buddy, it's worth it." He clapped me on the back.

We took the elevator down while Casper filled me in on the details.

The big scoop he used to blackmail me into going out with him turned out to be mediocre, nothing I could actually use and as I sat at the stuffy bar nursing a glass of scotch, I found that I couldn't really blame Casper for three reasons.

One, right from high school he was known to do anything and everything to get what he wanted. Two, the void was working overtime right now and three, while I wanted to get mad at him a small part of me knew he was right. I've been cooped up either in my house or in my office, too lazy and tired to do anything but work which in turn made me even more tired and lazy. Talk about vicious cycle.

I looked around the nightclub for something to do. Casper was nowhere to be seen-long since ditching me and losing himself in the throngs of people dancing on the dance floor.

I turned back to my drink and tried to tune out the heart-pounding bass, flashing lights and the choking smell of alcohol and stale cigarette smoke.

As I stared into the yellowish-brown liquid in my glass wondering when I'd regressed to the point in my life where I'd feel lonely at a club, the tempo of the music slowed and allowed a giggle reach me from my right.

It was the high pitched laugh of a woman but what attracted me was the genuineness. Since I couldn't make the sound myself it was only logical that other people's laughs fascinated me.

She had her hair down, a glorious mass of curls dyed in every color that covered her face. She was speaking with the bartender, her face pressed into his ear so he could hear her over the almost-deafening music.

After a minute the bartender nodded and turned his back to her. Seeing my chance I leaned into her ear to talk to her.

"What's your poison?" I asked through her hair. It smelt just as glorious as it looked.

She leaned away and just as I thought I was going to receive a slap for invading her private space, she threw her hands up and turned to me. "Why are people so f-ing morbid these days? Going around asking what poison I take. Fine, if I was gonna kill myself I'd use cyanide, happy now?"

I was too focused on her face to reply her. Or what I could see of it anyways, because right above her nose, framing her beautiful eyes was a pink, intricately designed mask. She seemed so odd in a place like this.

Suddenly my brain clicked and I processed what she'd said.

"Oh my god, no! That's not what I meant. It was a figure of speech!" I shook my head but I couldn't help the curving on my mouth.

I froze.

That was the first time in a while that I'd ever smiled and somehow this unusual woman with her rainbow hair and strange mask managed to bring out something I'd thought I'd lost the ability to do.

I looked at her in awe. Who are you?

"Really?" She frowned.

"Yes, it means what liquor do you prefer not what poison would you use to kill yourself."

"Well, if that's what it means then I'm right to take it literally because alcohol is poison."

She said it with so much conviction that I was unsure of how to reply.

Eventually I was able to think clearly. "Why do you think that?" I asked.

By then we were sitting with our heads bent together so we could hear each other over the music. I had to repeatedly remind myself to concentrate on her face, not the feel of her soft skin against my leg or her warm breath on my cheek.

"I don't have to tell you why, all I know is that a slow, painful death awaits you at the bottom of the bottle."

I was about to respond when one of the many flashing pink lights crossed my face. I blinked to moisten my eyes and I saw her take a sharp, panicked breath.

"What's wrong?" I frowned at her wide eyes.

"I have to go!"

And just like that she left her seat and hurried out, disappearing among the dancers.

I turned to ask the bartender who she was but he was nowhere to be found.

After she left I could feel myself going back to my default mode, the void rebooting itself and all traces of the way I felt talking with her going down the void like it was being flushed down a dark toilet.

There was only one thing on my mind: I have to find her.

After yesterday night I got back into my normal sad, indifferent self and the alarming speed with which it happened made me wonder if I'd imagined my whole encounter. That my mind was so in need of some respite that it'd conjured up some mysterious woman.

But I knew she was real. I could still smell her lavender shampoo, could still fell the soft skin of her thigh and the spark of mischievousness in her eyes.

Her eyes.

I found those globes even more odd than her mask. They were obviously contact lenses-they were the colors of the rainbow. Seriously what's with her and rainbows?-but she wore them like they were her real eyes. They could've easily been her eyes.

I thought that a night's sleep and a good dose of reality would remove her from my mind but by three o'clock I'd replayed my conversation with her about a million times, give or take. It could've been more. I always ended up with the same question. Why'd she suddenly disappear?

I sat feeling like Prince Charming when Cinderella ran except this Cinderella left with both shoes on.

Alex had to snap her fingers repeatedly in front of my face before I focused.

The only thing different with her was that today she managed to wear some lip-gloss. She still had the I-couldn't-give-two-fucks-if-I-tried look and another shapeless grey dress that distorted her figure.

"I'm sorry I'm so out of it today," I rubbed my face. "You were saying?"

"I said I'm leaving for a couple of hours. I'll be reachable by email or text if you need me, I'd rather you didn't call," she shifted uncomfortably as she picked a spot on her drab dress.

Of course. Today's Tuesday.

Every Tuesday Alex took off to God knew where for half the day. I didn't question it because she never took out of her vacation time and worked really hard unlike the rest of the morons on my payroll.

"Sure. I'll text if I need you."

She nodded but didn't leave immediately. "I know this is the last thing you wanna hear but you probably should get in touch with your mom. She called about three times just this hour asking of you. You could continue ignoring her but I'll tell you now that the next time Cynthia Miller calls I'm putting her through. You can fire me if you want."

With those last words she turned on her heel and pivoted herself out.

If it were anyone else they'd have been out of a job the minute they said those words but of course I wouldn't fire Alex. I don't know how I survived without her.

I shook her words out of my head and resolving to continue ignoring my mother I unzipped the casing protecting my grey MacBook Air.

As I set it up in front of me the full ludicrousness of what I was about to do hit me with full force.

I prided myself on being an above average stalker - let's face it we've all stalked someone at some point in our lives - but I didn't know anything about her and short of typing 'how to find the strange masked woman with rainbow hair and lovely lavender shampoo I met at a random bar last night' into Google, there was no way I could find her.

I intertwined my fingers behind my head and leaned into my chair.

Think Carson.

Even though I'd replayed last night a million and one times, there was something nagging at me about it.

Suddenly it clicked. The bartender!

They seemed really familiar with each other and if anyone would know her it'd be him.

Praying I remembered the place Casper took me and what the bartender looked like, I grabbed the keys to my inconspicuous Honda, shrugged on my favorite leather jacket over my work clothes and was out the door in two minutes.

"I'll try to make it back early but if I'm not back in time close up shop for me, will ya, Willow?" I said to my secretary as I passed her desk.

She had irritation written in her gray eyes as she ran a hand through her slate grey hair. Willow was the only other person I fully trusted with pretty much everything.

"Why can't you do it? Where are you going?"

"Thanks Will," I managed to get out before stepping into the elevator and punching the button for the garage.

Soon and with the help of Google Maps I parked outside the bar.

I got out and entered.

Without the swarm of people, the smell of alcohol and cigarettes and the loud music it became apparent how small the place really was. It took me ten steps to get to the bar.

I was in luck because it was the same bartender from last night that turned to attend to me. I recognized his curly blond hair and the scar over his left eyebrow.

"What can I get you?" His voice was gruff.

"A whiskey. Thank you." I settled into a wooden stool and surveyed the handful of people drinking.

"Thanks," I said as the amber liquid was placed before me. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure." he started cleaning a glass cup.

"I'm ..." I started, unsure. "Looking for someone and I think you might know her."

His eyebrow perked up but otherwise his face was neutral.

"I know I might sound crazy but she was here last night. She had this rainbow hair and she wore this pink mask." I sighed heavily. "Do you think I'm crazy?"

"Oh, Butterfly, yeah I know her." He turned and dropped the cup. Picking up another one he turned back.

"What?" I was genuinely confused.

"Her name's Butterfly, at least that's what she calls herself. You're looking for the girl with the mask, right?" I nodded. "Good luck finding her but she's the best DJ in entire state of Florida."

"What do you mean good luck finding her?"

"No one knows what she does during the day or what she looks like, she only appears at night with a mask. And she's super private."

Feeling dejected I uttered a low "thanks".

"But," I stopped at that. "I hear she's playing a gig at a pool party tonight, if you wanna try your luck."

"Sure, thanks man."

He wrote the address on a paper napkin and handed it to me. "But it's invite only," he shrugged.

"I'll work something out. Thanks a lot man."

And with that I was out of the bar, drink untouched.

I sat in my car a while twirling the piece of flimsy paper in my hands.

Invite only.

There was only one person I knew who would help me with a plan to crash this party. Casper.

I turned on the engine and made my way to Casper's office.

"I need your help," I said bursting into his office.

"Finally!" he jumped up from his chair and came around his desk. "What is it?"

"We gotta crash this party." I gave him the address and started pacing. "It's invite only so I don't think ..."

"Oh William's party. It's cool I have an invite."

I stopped my pacing and stared into his face. He noticed my staring and asked "what?"

"Is there anybody that you don't know in this city?"

He shrugged but was smiling. "Is there anybody important that I don't know in this city is what you should be asking. I used to do business with William's father, after the old man retired he transferred everything to his son. Big mistake if you ask me, boy never does anything with the money other than party nonstop."

"Well I didn't ask. Now let's go," I grabbed his arm and attempted to push him out of the door but he dug his heels in and resisted movement.

"Relax man. The party isn't for another three hours," he carefully peeled my fingers from his arm and rubbed where they'd been. "What's wrong with you? Why are you so in a rush anyway? Yesterday I had to drag you kicking and screaming just to have a drink and today you're as hyper as a dog in heat, what gives?"

I sighed. "Sorry, Cas." I plopped into an overstuffed black leather chair, closed my eyes and ran a hand through my hair.

"That's all I get? Sorry?" Casper's indignant voice sliced through the haze of black I was slipping into. "I'm your best friend man!"

That made me snap my eyes open and frown. "No, Eddie Howard is my best friend."

Something that looked suspiciously like hurt and disbelieve crossed Casper's hazel eyes. I could understand his disbelieve but the hurt struck me as odd. Did Casper really entertain thoughts that he was my best friend? Ha!

Eddie Howard was once interviewed by Bus Daily. He was the CEO of Howard Enterprises and arguably the richest man in the world. Where he was serious and prone to planning everything to a T, I was more in-the-moment and carefree which was why people didn't believe he was my best friend. That and he lived all the way in New York.

What people didn't know, however, was that I was born in New York and lived there a great deal of my childhood and some of my adolescence before my family moved our HQ to Florida. Eddie and I used to be neighbors, we went to the same schools but only bonded through our love for violent video games. When we weren't in school we'd be at my house shooting zombies or assassinating other players - nobody knew how to think like other people like Eddie - and making fun of my twin brother, Carter.

Another thing people didn't know about me. I was a twin. Carter and I didn't really talk much because he was so awkward and quiet and didn't do well with words. But he was a damned good photographer according to what I heard in the rumor mills. We had this unspoken agreement to never be in the same city at the same time, because we were so identical it saves him the cameras and microphones they'd have shoved into his face thinking it was me.

Anyway, Eddie and I started playing video games when we were six, now at twenty-eight we still played, just infrequently. These days he seemed to be more busy than usual with his company and his wife, Amethyst who was pregnant with their first child.

"Wow!" was all Casper said before resuming his seat.

"Look man ... it isn't anything personal." I told him.

"No, it's cool bro, really."

He still had the hurt look on his face and I internally rolled my eyes. Grow up will ya?

Since I couldn't go back to my office and I was in no frame of mind to focus on anything, I stayed put and for the next two hours I watched Casper work, paced about and even fell in and out of a fitful sleep. I wasn't really a patient man so having to wait three hours was synonymous to torture for me.

I was on my fifth round of pacing and swearing when I spotted Casper's smug smile.

"What?" I snapped at him. I was about ready to explode from impatience and my nerves and one wrong word from Casper and I would've eaten him raw.

"This is new. It's a woman isn't it?" his fingers formed a steeple and he assumed the wise sage look.

"Go to hell," I checked my watch and almost jumped with joy when I saw that I'd successfully wasted two and a half hours. "Can we go now?"

"We've still got thirty minutes" he saw my glare and sighed resignedly, "fine, fine. Let's go," he grabbed his jacket that was hanging at the back of the chair and we both piled into my car.

As I drove through the roads lit by street lamps I was hit by the full foolishness of what I was about to do. I had no idea if she'd even want to talk me and most importantly I had no idea what I'd do if it turned out she didn't want to see me.

"Ready?" asked Casper when I stopped in the driveway.

Only one way to find out.