The following day, I asked Lance to drop me off a few blocks away from the office. It was to prevent another rumour from involving us. However, he refused to follow my command. Last night, when he picked me up, he was supposed to take me home, but instead, he brought me into his hotel, and we slept there.
It wasn’t supposed to happen, but I was so stupid and weak whenever he’s around. What’s wrong with me? I explained to him why I wanted to be dropped off a few blocks from the office. “They would think we slept together,” I told him.
He responded casually, “We did.”
Lance was, without a doubt, correct. We slept together, and when I got home around six o’clock to shower and change my clothes, I had to lie to my mother about it. “I know that’s true, but do we have to make it so obvious that everyone can see it? What if another scandal will occur because of me?”
“What does it matter?” He stated, “I don’t see anything wrong with it.”
I yelled at him, “Stop being so stubborn! Can you tell me something amusing?” When I heard him laugh instead, I asked him a question.
He said, “When you’re angry, you look cute.”
As I pinched the skin on his arm, I asked him a question, and he protested in pain or pretended to be in pain. “Do you think I’m still cute?”
Lance glared at me, but I quickly regretted provoking him, and my eyes widened as he stepped on the gas and didn’t calm down until we arrived at my workplace. “Should I accompany you to your office?” He jested.
As I listened to him, the corner of my mouth twitched up. In response, I jokingly said, “Try harder.”
“In bed?”
When he casually mentioned it, blood began to rush to my cheeks. I was furious as I looked for the door lock, but Lance was quicker. He exited the vehicle and held the door open for me.
“Maybe you should come in and introduce yourself?” I asked him sarcastically, but he only laughed, as he always did.
“Call me later,” he said after kissing me goodbye.
When I first walked into the building, I pressed my lips together as I noticed several of my coworkers in the lobby. I knew they had witnessed the scene outside the building, even if they wouldn’t say anything about it. I hurried past them, embarrassed, but then someone called my name.
“Layla,” I acknowledge the woman who was a senior journalist.
“Are you having an affair with Lance Salcedo?”
“No,” I denied, and she just smiled. I expected her to drop the matter and let me return to my workstation, but she called me again. “Is there anything else?”
“I’m just nosy,” she said.
She inquired about the car, and if Lance hadn’t mentioned his car the night before, the mere mention of his car model would have thrown me for a loop. “Perhaps,” I said, without commenting on his wealth, because, to be honest, a car shouldn’t be used to determine someone’s wealth. “Can we talk in private?” We shouldn’t let our enmity fester for too long because it will negatively impact our work performance.
Layla gave me a nod and followed me. The building has a second-floor waiting lounge that was designed for important visitors. I made a cup of coffee for myself and her because the coffee maker was already set up.
After I handed her a cup of hot coffee, she apologized and said, “I’m sorry.”
“Can you tell me where you got those files, Layla?”
She admitted, “It was forwarded to me anonymously.”
“Could you please send me a copy of your conversation with your source?”
“All right, Alexa. I’ll take care of it. Please accept my sincere apologies once again.” Layla expressed her regret for the situation.
That was the source of her discomfort at the time she called me. She wasn’t sure where she got her information, but she believed in the content and forced me to believe in it as well. “All right, then, let’s just do better next time.” My mouth curved into a smile as I said it.
“So, going back to your boyfriend,” she began.
I understand why she’s nosy. Lance’s car probably piqued her interest because she’d been working on a column about wealthy people. I was hesitant to tell her the truth because, to be honest, I was afraid of being discovered to be involved romantically with Lance Salcedo, especially after the damaging article I had previously written. It would cause a boomerang on my part, and I couldn’t let that happen.
Even though he and I went out together and claimed I was his girlfriend on several occasions, there was no truth to it. Our relationship, in my opinion, has yet to be labelled, but if it were, it would be partners in bed and nothing more. Layla must have failed to recognize Lance Salcedo in his plainclothes, or she wouldn’t bother to ask.
“Could you arrange for me to meet him?” Layla announced, “I’d like to feature him in my column,” and her work dedication astounded me once again.
I was perplexed as to why she couldn’t recognize Lance, given that he looked exactly like the man in the photo I included in my article. It was probably for the best that she didn’t recognize him. I lied and said, “I’ll ask him later.”
“Thank you, Alexa; now let’s get down to business. Since he arrived, Dimitri hasn’t been in a good mood,” Layla informed me.
“Really?”
“Yeah, and as soon as he walked in, he scowled at us. Today will undoubtedly be hectic,” Layla forewarned me.
Layla must have known our boss for longer than I do because she knew Dimitri could be a monster at work on occasion. “In that case, let us proceed to our workstation right away,” I said in response.
I just arrived at my desk when the phone rang, and I took it immediately. “Alexa Manrique speaking,” I introduced myself to the called, and the next thing I did, I distanced the phone from my ear because Dimitri’s voice almost ruined my eardrums.
“Come to my office right now!” He ordered.