Prologue
I was woken up by my phone ringing. My head was pounding—like someone was playing drums in my skull. I groaned, rolled over, and grabbed my phone from under the pillow, answering it without even looking at the screen.
"Star, where the hell are you? Have you forgotten that today you have an interview? Or do you wanna stay unemployed forever? B*tch, don't make me mad!"
That was my mother, shouting through the phone like her voice had no volume limit. At that moment, my head started aching even more. I sat up slowly, wincing at the sunlight pouring through the window.
This better be the last time I go out partying. For real. I mean, hangovers? Not child's play, haha.
As I moved the blanket aside, I froze. There was a man lying next to me. Shirtless. Sleeping like he didn't just flip my whole morning upside down. I blinked, trying to piece together last night—but it was all a blur of music, shots, and laughter.
I slid out of bed carefully, trying not to wake him. I picked up my clothes from the floor and quickly got dressed. Look, I know you're gonna judge me. I slept with a man without knowing his name. But I was drunk, and he was hot. That's all I can say. Maybe not my proudest moment, but it happened.
I quietly slipped out of the apartment and ordered an Uber. The ride felt like the longest ten minutes of my life. My stomach twisted with anxiety—I was running late. Really late. And I needed this job.
Yesterday, when I got the call inviting me for an interview, I was so excited I could barely contain myself. I told my friends, and of course, we ended up going out to celebrate. Yeah, I know—it sounds ridiculous to celebrate a job interview, not even the job itself. But that's me. Star Lowell Jones. A little dramatic, a little reckless, but always hopeful.
When I got home, Mom was already waiting. I knew she was pissed—her silence said it all. But I avoided eye contact, walked straight to the bathroom, and took what might have been the fastest bath in human history.
In my room, the outfit she had picked out for me was neatly laid on the bed. A wave of guilt washed over me. She always had my back, even when I didn't deserve it. I slipped into the clothes and looked at myself in the mirror. Not bad. I almost looked like I had my life together.
"Come eat. Fast," she said from the kitchen.
"I can't, Mom. I'm already late. Bye! I love you!" I called out, grabbing my bag.
"Okay, bye. You can take my car!" she replied, tossing me the keys.
That was enough to make me smile again. I ran back, gave her a bunch of kisses, and dashed out the door.
The company wasn't far, thankfully. I kept glancing at the time, praying they wouldn't turn me away for being late. When I arrived, I took a deep breath and walked into the building, heading straight for the reception.
"Hi, I'm here for the interview."
"You're late," the receptionist said, raising her brow.
"I know… I'm sorry."
She eyed me, clearly unimpressed. "Girl, if you want to work here, then you'll need to be more punctual."
Before I could answer, a deep, familiar voice cut in. "It's fine, Sandy. You can come with me."
I turned—and nearly choked on my own breath.
It was him.
The man from this morning.
I blinked hard, trying to make sure I wasn't hallucinating. His voice was smooth, like honey, and his presence filled the room like a storm.
"Are you coming, or are you just going to keep staring at me?"
"Oh… I'm coming," I managed to say, my voice barely above a whisper.
I followed him like a headless chicken. I couldn't stop staring at him. He was tall, broad-shouldered, with muscles that filled his suit perfectly. The way he walked—so confident, so in control—was enough to make my knees weak. This was the type of man I used to fantasize about before going to sleep. And now, he was real, and walking right in front of me.
We got into the elevator. It was just the two of us. The silence was loud. He turned to face me, his eyes trailing over me with a mix of amusement and curiosity.
"What are you doing here?" he asked.
"I'm… I'm here to work," I said, awkwardly.
"To work? Work as what?"
"A cleaner," I admitted. "I'm not really qualified for anything else. I dropped out of school in 11th grade. Hated school with all my heart. But still, sometimes I miss it. I used to dream of becoming a doctor, but I was never smart enough. School gave me hell, no matter how hard I tried. My mom thought I was lying—said I was just chasing boys who didn't even like me back. I wasn't really chasing them, they—"
I stopped talking when I realized he'd already walked out. I hadn't even noticed we'd reached the floor. I hurried to catch up, feeling embarrassed and awkward.
He walked into a large office and took off his suit jacket, tossing it over a chair.
"Close the door behind you," he said.
I did as I was told, then stepped inside. My heart was racing. He looked at me, biting his lower lip in that way that made him even hotter than I remembered.
"Come close."
His voice was low and commanding, yet smooth and seductive. Everything about him pulled me in like a magnet. I walked toward him, unsure of what to expect.
Somehow, without thinking, I found myself kneeling.
He chuckled, reached down, and held my cheek. "I didn't say kneel, you little sexy thing. Stand up. We don't do that here."
I stood, cheeks burning. His hand slipped around my waist, and I froze.
"I have a better job for you," he said, his voice teasing.
"What? Are you serious?"
"Be my kitten."
"...What?"