I stare harder, trying to lie to myself that there’s no way the universe can make us meet again after I hit his car. But, fuck no. The universe has other plans because he raises his head and our eyes lock for a long second, recognition embracing his facials.
Fuck. It’s him. It’s definitely him.Just when I thought I was going to have a normal life, I hit a rich man’s car and ran away and then I had to run into him at a celebrity’s party.Aren’t I the luckiest girl in the world?With our eyes still locked in an intense battle, he raises his eyebrows, scowling at me like I’m a rebellious child. I look away, knowing nothing good is going to come out of that look as I throw my head back and gulp my entire drink.I need to get out of here.“Wow, now slow down, lady.” A masculine voice says beside me. I place my empty glass of drink in front of me and turn toward the source of the voice.Omar Sharif. He’s a Hollywood actor, a hotshot for a while until someone new and hotter overtook his throne. He’s dressed in a dark blue suit, brown skin glowing. Well, at least he’s hotter in real life.Omar puts up a flirtatious smile that I’m already used to as he stretches his hand to me for a handshake.“I’m Omar. Now, who might you be, beautiful lady?”I look down at his hand, refusing to shake it. Omar looks disappointed as he pulls his hand away.“I’m Robyn.”“Robyn.” He tests my name on his tongue as he smirks. “Rare but unique. You look stunning, Robyn.” Omar says, slowly bringing his gaze down my body.Fuck, I hate that look.I hate it when men look at me like that. There is nothing pure about that look. They’re simply telling you they don’t give a shit about you, they just want you on their sheets. No pun intended.What an asshole.“What do you want?” I blatantly ask. Omar looks offended as he raises his eyebrows for a second.“Um… I don’t think you know who I am.”“Omar Sharif. You were Hollywood’s hotshot for a while. Heard you got yourself a Bentley. You won’t even shut up about it on social media. I know you, Omar, I'm just not interested.”“You don’t have to be a fucking bitch, you know that?” Now, he’s being paranoid. “You should be lucky I’m here talking to you.”“Yeah, because you’re a god and I’m a fucking nobody,” I say with sarcasm. “Kindly fuck off, Mr. Hotshot.” I roll my eyes and look away, turning my head toward the direction I saw him earlier but he’s not there.Is my mind playing a trick on me?“You’re gonna regret this.” Omar’s voice draws me out of my head as I turn to look at him.He stands, giving me a stink eye as he buttons his suit jacket and walks away.Yeah, I definitely bruised his ego.My eyes meet the bartender from earlier as he looks away, pretending to wipe clean one of the cocktail glasses. I stand up, desperately craving for fresh air, but the last person I expected to be standing in front of me, is standing in front of me, towering over me with his hands in his pants pockets.“Look who it is. The car smasher.” He says, with a strange underlying tone that I can’t recognize.He gives me a quick once over, bringing his eyes down my body to check me out before he locks eyes with me. His ocean eyes stare into my soul as I look for words. He’s wearing a black custom-made suit paired with a white dress shirt. His skin, golden. His dark brown hair is slicked back, with a few stubborn strands on either side of his perfectly shaped face. I’d be lying if I said this man doesn’t look attractive and good-looking. Right now, he looks like a god, watching me, scrutinizing me.“You should close your mouth, anything could sneak in at this point.” Wow, he’s a fucking asshole.I clamp my mouth shut, not realizing until he mentioned that I’ve been staring at him with my mouth wide open.“Leaving so soon?” He asks, taking his hands out of his pants pockets.I open my mouth to say something, but then I decide against it and clamp my mouth shut. Worst case scenario, I’m just going to have to pay for his car that I hit.“Not really. I wanted to get fresh air.”He nods. “Enjoying the party then?” He asks like we’re friends.“I am.”“So she can talk? For a second I thought you were mute.” He says. I hate the fact that he’s fucking rude but yet his baritone voice sends chills down my sPINe.“Look, I’m sorry. I know I hit your car but I didn’t mean to run away. I wasn’t looking and I didn’t mean to hit your car.”“Twice.”“Yeah. I may have not passed my driving lessons.”“Right.” He nods once, bringing his eyes down my body for a second before locking eyes with me.I do not understand that look. But I’m pretty sure the reason behind his look is not a good one. One look at him from my driver's window earlier today and I know he’s a powerful man. I had to leave the scene of the crime as fast as I could.“I’m guessing you didn't think we would ever meet again.” True.“Why did you run?” He asks, slipPINg his hands into his pants pockets.“Look, it doesn’t matter. I’m gonna pay for it. If you want, I can send you the money for the cost so you’d understand I’m sincerely sorry.”“Alright. It’s $25,000 for the cost. And an extra 10k for repairs.”“What?” I want to pull at my hair and yell at him for being annoying.I stare at him, with so much anger running through my veins. I’m angry that he has to be so calm and collected while I’m trying so hard not to throw a tantrum. I can’t read his looks because there’s nothing to read. Not one ounce of emotion is sketched on his handsome face. It’s just blank.“35k for a scratch?” I’m trying not to yell, but it’s so hard not to when he’s being a jerk on purpose. “Your car wasn’t totaled. It was a scratch, a little scratch and it wasn’t on purpose. There’s no way a scratch would cost $35,000.”He expels a breath and takes a step forward until we’re a few inches apart. He looks me in the eye and I don’t back down either, matching his gaze.“You know what? Whatever. I don’t have cash with me right now but I can do a transfer.”“I don’t need your money, sweetheart.” Sweetheart?“You just told me the repairs for your car that I scratched is $35,000.”“That’s correct and I’ve fixed it. You’re gonna pay for it but I don’t need your money.”Is he kidding me? How the fuck am I supposed to pay for it?“Keep it at the back of your mind that you owe me.” He voices out, his voice calm and soothing.For the millionth time tonight, he slowly brings his gaze down my body, taking his time. Then slowly he smirks, a reaction I didn’t see coming.“Nice dress by the way… Robyn.” Then he winks and walks away, leaving me standing there looking like an idiot and stunned.How the fuck did he know my name?“Okay. Tell me everything again, word for word.” Monique says on Saturday morning. We’re both in the living room in our pajamas with Monique standing in front of me like she wants to give a lecture. Last night, after that strange encounter with ‘him’, I texted Monique that I was leaving. I had to leave. I couldn’t stay there one minute with him on the other side of the room watching me. Throughout the night I could feel his eyes on my body, to the point it became weird.There was nothing pure about the way he looked at me last night. It was nothing like Omar Sharif’s look but they sure had the same meaning. A woman clung to his arm throughout the night, whispering things I couldn’t comprehend but obviously knew the meaning.Monique had texted me back that I should leave without her and that we would meet at home. That was when I knew my friend had ditched me to hook up with a rando. I booked a ride, drank two more shots, and left the party feeling agitated.“I already told you everyt
“Heard about the party that’s coming up next weekend?” Tiwa asks, tying up her short dreadlocks into a ponytail.“What party?” I ask. I’m always the last one to find out about what’s going on in this hospital. And every time, Tiwa is the one who gets to tell me what’s going on, what’s about to happen, and what has already happened in this hospital.Tiwa is Nigerian, with a light brown chocolate complexion and natural dark, red lips. She’s not that tall, almost the same height as me and she’s really friendly. We hit it off immediately when we saw each other a few years ago, and we’re like best buds in this hospital. She’s a registered nurse now. We first met when she was a practical nurse but she’s now a fully registered nurse.Tiwa left Nigeria about 8 years ago to study nursing and to work as a nurse in the United States and finally, she’s living her dreams and I’m happy for her.“I know you love working as a nurse and I know you’re oftentimes occupied, but I feel like you’re overwor
My lunch sits on my table cold and sad looking as I go through my phone, reading several articles about Dominique Gray and his Enterprise. There are not a lot of articles concerning his life or his personal life, except that he's 32 years old and he was born and raised in New York by an Italian mother and a father of French and American descent. I’ve read countless articles about him and nothing is interesting about his life other than the fact that he’s wealthy and he owns a lot of properties in the state and across the country. I skip through several pictures of him in different custom-made expensive suits, wondering how on earth he’s 32 years old. This man looks like he’s 28 and I can’t spot any imperfections on his face in his pictures and even in real life. He actually looks better in real life than in pictures, I’m going to give him that.Even in pictures, the man doesn’t smile much. You can tell there’s so much hiding behind that nonchalant and stoic look when you stare at him.
One thing St. José’s staff are pretty good at is throwing good hospital parties. Ever since I started working here, St. José has thrown at least five parties to commemorate different events, I’ve only attended one, thus making the second time I’m gracing one of their parties.For a girl who lived an extravagant life and a life of luxury, I find parties like this boring. Actually, I find almost every party boring except the type where I had to hit the club on the weekends with my girls singing and getting drunk. There’s nothing fun about parties like these. There’s just talking, drinking, laughing at old boring jokes, more talking, and maybe two people flirting, and there is the part where you have to pretend like you’re having the best time of your life.I push my hair to the side, letting it fall on my shoulder as I listen to Noah talk about hospital gossip. He already had Monique hooked as she smiled and laughed at whatever thing he was telling her. Tiwa is going through her phone,
The air is cold outside. I run my palms up and down my arms as I look down the road with different cars parked on the curb and in the parking lot.I had to step out. I had to breathe in fresh air because if I’d stayed in there any minute longer, I may have caused a heartache for myself and maybe caused a scene.I still can’t believe he's in there as the hospital’s new shareholder. In fact, I thought after the party Monique invited me to, I was never going to see him again. But hell fucking no, he just happened to walk right back into my life and he’s making me question my own sanity.Why can’t he just go away and never come back?“Red does look good on you.” A familiar voice says.I turn around, coming face to face with him for the second time in three weeks. I lock eyes with his ocean-blue eyes, wondering how on earth he’s always so calm when he’s fucking corny. I’m not dumb, behind this whole calm exterior, I can swear on my dad’s life that there’s a whole different man in there. An
“Okay, so I’m free to say Dominique Gray truly wants to fuck you?” Monique says on our way home that night.She’s behind the wheel because I’m too frustrated to drive. I’ve been cursing, hissing, groaning ever since Monique started driving us back home. He’s succeeded. He’s succeeded in planting himself and his arrogance in my head and I just want to get him out.“Please don’t say the F-word, it’s disgusting.” I groan, turning so that I’m leaning my back against the car window.“Yeah? You say the F-word all the time, Madam Mary.”I roll my eyes but smile.“He’s fucking disgusting,” I mutter under my breath, staring out the window at the nightlife.“How so?”“How could he want sex from me in exchange for his car that I smashed?” That must sound fucked up.“So you’ve finally confessed you smashed his car?” Monique grins as she asks.I shake my head, smiling. “You’re annoying.”“So what makes you think he wants sex in exchange for his car? He’s not that loose. He’s a man with principles.
“Hey, honey bunch. I don’t think I will be able to come home tonight. Be safe and don’t miss me too much. Kisses.” I sit on the bench outside St. José as I listen to Monique’s voicemail that she’d left on my phone when I was working.I roll my eyes at the voice note she’d left and smile. Monique had told me she’d met a guy at the gym a few weeks ago. She thought the guy was hot, she showed me his picture and I felt like he was okay. Maybe a Casanova, I didn’t tell her that actually. He was too good-looking for his own sake. I think he’d ask her out last week and she gladly accepted.It’s not in my shoes to tell her Mr. Hot and Gorgeous is not the one, she’s going to have to find out sooner. I assured myself that. Monique believes in love, in fact, she’d always wanted to find the right guy, the perfect one for her. But the men she’s been dating are the opposite of what she wants for herself.There was a time I told her to take a break from relationships and their drama, she’d told me s
As if he can feel a pair of eyes staring at him, Dominique turns to look at me, eyes locking with mine for a long moment in an intense gaze. He furrows his eyebrows, a smirk slowly creeping up to his lips as he shifts his gaze to Doctor Sanders who’s watching me patiently. Doctor Sanders slowly turns around to stare at what’s got my attention which only makes Dominique stare at Doctor Sanders with squinted eyes. I know that look, I just don’t want to believe it.Why on earth would he be concerned with who I’m out with?“You two know each other?” Doctor Sanders turns to look at me as he asks.“Not really.”“You were a little… you know, surprised to see him. And distracted.”“Oh. It’s nothing.” I assure the doctor, locking eyes with Dominique again for a second as I look away.Why is he here? Why the fuck is he here?He’s with a woman. I can’t tell what she looks like because she’s backing me, but from her backview, she sure looks like a woman with class. Why would I expect less from Do