Estelle

1 | A New Life (Edited)

1 year later.

"Ciao."

My black heels click on the sidewalk as I take my time walking back to my apartment. I feel my phone buzz in my pocket and I answer, already knowing who it is.

"Jane! Let's go out tonight."

I roll my eyes at my friend. It has been a year since I moved to Italy and covered my tracks the best I could. Here, I met a woman who quickly became my best friend.

"I will return to work tomorrow, Blue."

"Oh we don't have to get drunk. Just have a shot and dance."

Blue is definitely the partying type. I have never been one to enjoy going to night clubs before but I enjoy her company. I now have the money for it occasionally and the friend to do it with.

"So your boss is coming back from his trip... where was it again?"

"France," I answer. My apartment is not fancy. I am used to the modest old buildings. The calm, gray hallways and mismatching red carpet with a simple pattern is more inviting to me than white walls and marble floors. I like my life modest and prefer to keep it that way for now. The only thing I do not like is having to walk up the stairs in my heels.

"One second." I pull the phone away from my ear as I take off my heels and begin walking up the stairs barefoot.

"Are you barefoot again?" Blue asks after I return the phone to my ear.

"No..."

She laughs. "Nutter. Those stairs are so gross."

"Oh, I'll be fine."

"Jane, you are the secretary of a CEO. You should get a nicer apartment. One with an elevator."

"Maybe I'll move to the bottom floor so you stop pestering me" I saw with a chuckle. I shift my things as I take out the keys to my apartment.

"Whatever, I'll be there soon to pick you up."

As we enter the club, the music becomes loud and we have to shout to each other. The lights bounce off our dresses, changing the shades occasionally.

As the party rages on, Blue and I switch between dancing and sitting at the bar. In a separate room is an another bar which makes it easier to talk. The lights are still dim and the interior design is dark. After a while, a tall dark toned man approaches Blue and asks her to dance.

"Vuoi ballare con me, bella signora?" [Do you want to dance with me, pretty lady?]

"Will you be okay alone?"

"I'll be fine, go have fun." I smile at her as Blue takes the man's hand and heads into the crowd. The lights shift and a red light flashes over the crowd. My eyes focus on someone on the other side of the dance floor.

I stare, seeing glimpses of someone familiar but out of place. I pale in embarrassment as I realize who is sitting across the club stealing glances at me.

Adonis Irey... my boss.

He is in a booth with a glass of whisky in hand. His black hair is short but messy with small curls along his hairline and over his forehead. His eyes scan the crowd and their stormy dark gray color meets my eyes.

Instead of looking away, he holds eye contact with me. I have been working for him for 9 months and not once have I seen him outside of work. This is an odd feeling. Not to mention, he should still be on the plane from France back to Italy.

His eyes hold mine as they travel down my figure. Strangely, I don't feel uncomfortable as he looks at me. His eyes return back to mine. His gaze is not intrusive but observant and emotionless. I can't help but take notice of his appearance too. He is not wearing his professional attire but instead a black short sleeve shirt that is pulled tight over his large muscles.

My fingers play nervously with the latch on my purse as I continue this staring contest.

He takes up a lot of space in the booth. His arms and shoulders are thick with muscle and he stands a few inches over 6 foot. I always felt small next to him considering I'm petite. 

"Ciao. Posso offrirti un drink?" [Hello. Can I get you a drink?]

My eye contact with Mr. Irey breaks as I look at the man standing next to my seat at the bar. My eyes glance back at Mr. Irey and I notice his sharp jaw clenching, his eyes on the man standing next to me.

"Uh. No grazie."

"Avanti! Solo uno." [Come on! Just one?]

"No grazie."

I look back across the bar and notice that Mr. Irey is gone, his empty whisky glass sitting on the table he had just been at.

I turn my attention back to the man. "Mi scusi." [excuse me]

After a little while of dancing with Blue, I cannot help but constantly look around for Mr. Irey. It has been a week since I was given off as he went out of the country for business. I feel as if I need to talk to him. To know how it went. Not that I will get much out of him. He is on the quiet side.

That night even in bed, I cannot stop wondering why Mr. Irey was looking at me like that. We are not close and only have a professional relationship. When his eyes met mine, I couldn't help but notice that he looked relieved.