The meeting. Vega's pov

I was late.

I was as fast as I could, but I knew I wasn't going to get there in time. Today was the day I was going to meet the CEO of the largest travel agency in the states. Although many companies offered me to be their lawyer, I chose to go to this one first. Who wouldn't want to travel free of charge? I found out that the CEO takes his secretary and his lawyer wherever he goes. And he travels all the time, everywhere. The car he sent me to pick me up was already waiting for me outside. I opened the closet and started looking at the clothes. I decided to wear black pants with a white shirt. I hastily tied my hair in a ponytail and put on white high heels. I grabbed my bag and headed for the elevator. Damn it. The elevator's on the first floor, and I'm on the 23rd. I looked at the watch on my arm - 8:23. The car's been there for over 20 minutes, and the meeting's at 8:30. I ran down the stairs. I didn't feel comfortable running in heels at all, but if I shoved them, my legs would get awfully dirty. I stopped on the twelfth floor to get some air. Damn it. I was supposed to be an athlete. Who's running like this at 8am? Me, obviously, but still... I ran again. There's not much left.

I had already reached the first floor. Again, in a hurry, I bumped into someone in the lobby. A very attractive, tall man. Beautiful green eyes and black hair. I stared at him. He was dressed in a black suit. He had tattoos on his arms and neck.

Wait...

I pulled the phone out of my bag and got into the messages. I opened the conversation with the CEO's secretary, where I was going. He sent me a picture of the CEO this morning, but I didn't have time to look at it. I looked at the photo, then the man in front of me. So a couple of times. Until I realized that the man from the photo was right in front of me.

- Mr. Martelli? - I asked nervously.

He started looking at me from top to bottom. I couldn't read the look on his face. He seemed calm, but at the same time annoyed.

- Yes, Ms. Mishelle. - he answered. - I'd have signed three contracts by the time you got here.

Was that supposed to be funny? Because the look on his face says it's definitely not.

- I'm sorry, Mr. Martelli. It won't happen again. - I said and looked down.

- Just go.

He got out of the building, followed by me. We got into the black Mercedes, which was parked in front. We drove off. My stomach had turned. We traveled in silence, which was quite awkward. I was looking at the big buildings we were passing by. Someday I hope to own a building like this. To have my own company. Despite the large sums of money I earn from every case I've won, it's not enough for a building like this. I have to save money for at least a few years, get experience...

- Where are you from, Ms. Michelle? - he asked suddenly.

- I'm from Berkeley, California.

- Then what brings you here?

This guy's really curious. Didn't he read my resume? Besides, some things shouldn't be said.

- Personal reasons. - I replied.

He turned to me.

- So you can't tell me?

- I'm sorry, Mr. Martelli, but I don't want to, and I have no intention of telling you.

- Interesting.

Again, there was an awkward silence. We both looked out the windows. I thought about what it would have been like if I hadn't gotten rid of my previous life. Would I have had a best friend I could count on for everything? Would I have had fun? Would I have had time to do something for myself? Probably not. But sometimes I miss the time I've spent with the people I've known for so long. It's hard to forget. It's hard to start your life again, like nothing happened. Although a lot has happened. I needed this. The need to start a new life. To do something for myself, to leave something behind after my death. If I had gone on the same way as I did three years ago, none of this would have happened. Or I'd be dead by now. The only thing holding me right now is that no one recognizes my face. What about me? I recognize a lot of people, but I don't interfere anymore. I was consumed with my thoughts. I didn't know when we got here. The door on my side opened and I got out of the car, and after me came Mr. Martelli. It was a huge building. It was all glass-fronted. As far as I can remember, I read that there are 120 floors. And on the 120th floor is Mr. Martelli's office.

- Let's go. - he said, putting his hand on my back.

I got chills on my body. I followed him through the big lobby. The floor was marble. There was a single wooden desk behind which there was a young blonde woman. As we walked past her, she greeted us, Mr. Martelli didn't tell her anything. We got in the elevator and he pressed the button for the 120th floor. It's going to take a long time, and it's still awkward.

- Don't worry. - he said. - Nobody uses this elevator except me, my secretary and my lawyer.

I smiled at him slightly and looked down. There were mirrors everywhere, there was nowhere else to turn so I wouldn't see him. It's not that I wouldn't want to see him, I'd really like to see him. Until that awkwardness disappears.

- Did you know... - he started again. - I attended a trial of yours.

- Oh. Really? - I said surprised. - Which one?

-I don't remember what it was for, but you cursed the other lawyer a lot.

- Yes, I remember.

I cleared my throat thinking the conversation was over.

- So, what was this trial about?

- For a woman and her child. Her husband got drunk. He came home from work and started accusing her of cheating on him while he was at work. He took a knife and tried to stab her several times. She hid with her child in one of the bedrooms. But he went there, again with a knife in his hand. He also tried to stab his son. But she took a vase and hit him on the head. He was in the hospital for about two weeks. The lawyer who represented him was trying to exonerate him and said she shouldn't have hit him and it was all her fault.

- Then.. What happened?

- We won, of course. - I said proudly. - Then I filed a lawsuit against him and the judge took away his right to be a lawyer.

I think things were coming to a head between us. I didn't feel so awkward anymore.

- And that's why I chose you. - he said, and the elevator doors opened.

I was following him down the long marble corridor. Does this man have a fetish for marble? Anyway. We moved on, reaching large wooden door. There were two men standing at the door. They opened and we went inside. There was a big room. All covered in wood. Next to the large windows was a large wooden desk. Everything is large and wooden here. There was a man behind the desk. Pretty short, but muscular. I guess that's his secretary.

- It's good to see you live, Ms. Michelle. - he said.

- Marco. My secretary. - Mr. Martelli said.

- It's good to see you, too. - I replied, smiling.

We went through the room and went into another one even bigger. Marble floors, black wooden desk, black sofas and armchairs. There was a small glass table, in black. The view from here was amazing.

- Have a seat, please. - he said, and sat in the chair behind the desk.

I settled on the couch and waited for the questions to begin.

- So, Ms. Michelle... - here we are. - For what reason were you late?

- I slept a little longer than I should have. - there was no point in lying.

He laughed. I didn't expect such a reaction from him, but I'm glad he's having fun.

- I like your honesty. - he said. - No one would dare tell me that in my eyes.

Is he that bad? I'm an honest person, and I don't care who's in front of me. Not even the Pope.

- I think we're going to get along fine. I like you. - he like what?! - I mean, I like your attitude, your courtesy and your honesty. I need people like that. Not ones who are afraid to come and tell me something they know I'm not going to like.

- I still don't know what anyone would be afraid of, Mr. Martelli.

- You'll see. - he said and smiled. - And please, call me Enzo.

Is that all? Is this the interview? If I'd known this was happening, I'd have a little more sleep.

- Let's go on a date, Ms. Michelle, I'd like to know you better.

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