Chapter six

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"Why does he even wear that mask when he's not at the club", I hear myself say. My voice sounds so different when I'm drunk.

"I don't know. Some people say he's famous and doesn't want to be recognized. My idea is, that his dominance and masculinity rise when he's anonymous... you know, it's an insecurity thing", she shrugs and leans back in the velvet chair, crossing her arms. Sophia seems a bit more annoyed than usual. The music is still quite loud, but not as loud as the voices. It's as if the more alcohol is consumed, the louder people get - not to mention the cheering on the strippers. I check my watch. It's midnight. 

"Where is your guy anyways?", I say. 

"Mr Cooper?", she says. She nods towards the middle of the dance floor. I have a hard time focusing my eyes, but slowly I see him. There he is - talking to another woman, with his head bent down to reach her ear. I gasp.

"What the fuck? Oh, it's on", I say, secure my bag on my shoulder and stand up. I almost trip, the alcohol hitting me twice as hard the minute I get up. Sophia grabs my arm and pulls me.

"Olivia no, it's oka-", but before she can finish her sentence I shake her off and storm towards Mr Cooper. I push myself through the crowd and reach Mr Cooper. 

"You got some fucking nerve". He looks up at me surprised, and so does the woman he's talking with. I push him and he stumbles back. "You think you can just lead on Soph like that? You mess with her, you mess with me", I say. People around us start to notice, and he immediately takes a step towards me.

"What's your problem?", he says, and suddenly I feel a hand on my shoulder. It's Sophia, who's just made her way through the crowd.

"Oh my god Olivia, that's his sister!". My hand flies to my mouth. Shit.


I'm sitting on the curb outside the club waiting for a cab. I got kicked out, for obvious reasons, and I think Sophia's pretty mad at me. I take out my phone from my bag while leaning to the side, and suddenly lose my balance. I hit the ground with my shoulder. I giggle. This is gonna hurt tomorrow. I open my phone and type out a message to Sophia:

'Soph, I love yiue shuooo much im sschu an idiot plesde forgivbe me'. I press send. For the first time this evening, I check my phone for messages. I have one voice message on my phone.

"Hello Olivia, it's Mr Smith. I'm assuming you picked up the paper order from Hewlett-Packard, as I asked of you this morning, and I'm coming by to pick it up tomorrow at 09 am-", suddenly his voice gets cut by my ringtone. It's Sophia. I pick up and immediately start apologizing. She laughs.

"Olivia, it's fine. I'm just calling to let you know that I'm not sleeping at home tonight, I'm staying at Mr Cooper's". I start cheering loudly.

"Oh my GOOODDD! Don't forget protection", I shout, and she laughs. 

"Message me when you're home love", she says and hangs up.

"Message me when you're home love", she says and hangs up

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I wake up to the sound of our annoying buzzer. I blink my eyes to adjust to the lighting beaming from my window and am immediately hit with a bashing headache. I raise my arm to put a hand to my head, only to be hit with yet another pain - this time from my shoulder. What the hell did I do last night? Our buzzer goes off again, and I drag myself out of bed. The air hits my naked body. I do not remember undressing myself. The minute I stand up, I feel the nausea hitting me and my stomach turning. Focus Olivia.

I finally reach our door and pick up the phone.

"Hello", I hear myself say, with a raspy morning voice. Jesus, did I yell yesterday?

"Olivia, how many times do I have to ring your doorbell?", a male voice says. I squint my eyes and think. Who can this be? Then it hits me and my eyes widen. It's Mr Smith.

"Oh my god, yes sorry, come in", I say and press the little key button to buzz him in. The adrenaline immediately rushes through my veins as I run across the living room to grab some clothes, any clothes, to cover myself up. I grab a black, silk nightgown, belonging to Sophia, that has been tossed over the sofa, and throw it on over my naked body, as I run to the nearest mirror. The minute I spot myself in the mirror panic hits me even harder - I'm wearing the same makeup as the night before, and it's completely ruined plus my hair looks like a bird's nest. I lick my fingers, aggressively trying to smudge away some of the mascara that has fallen under my eyes. I can hear him nearing the door, so I run towards it and open it fast. And there he is, wearing a white shirt with the top buttons unbuttoned, some office pants and hotter than I remember him being. His hands are tucked in his pockets, and his eyes widen when he sees me. I feel the blood rushing to my cheeks, and I look down on my feet. My bare feet, which I of course forgot to put some shoes on. 

"Were you not expecting me?", he says. I can't bring myself to look him in the eyes.

"I was, Sir", I lie. I can feel him judging me.

"Don't lie, Olivia". Fuck, fuck, fuck. I clear my voice and step aside.

"Please, come in. Excuse the mess", I say and finally look up at him. He steps beside me into my apartment. I close the door behind him and scan the apartment for the paper order, which I do not remember where I put whatsoever. He looks around my apartment and I feel very naked - not only because he's in my personal space, but I am naked under the nightgown.

"Well.. This is nice", he says and turns to me. I immediately go towards the living room, scanning all surfaces for the package order. Where the fuck did I put it?

"Thanks. It's not much, we just moved in", I say. Maybe it's in the kitchen?

"We?", I hear him say as I walk into the kitchen. I, to my relief, spot the package on the kitchen table and pick it up. I turn and I walk back towards him, relieved that I had the papers. All this walking is making me feel extremely nauseous. 

"Soph- I mean my friend and I", I say and reach him. I hand him the papers. He smirks slightly.

"Hm.. Good", he says, not taking his eyes off of mine. I can feel my pulse rising. What? Why is that good?  He takes the papers out of my hands, his fingers briefly grazing mine as I hand them to him. I instinctively bite my lip. His eyes flicker towards my lips, only to continue down to my toes and back up to my eyes again. My stomach fills with butterflies, among the abnormal amount of alcohol. "Do you always greet your bosses dressed like this?", he says, his brown eyes staring teasingly into my eyes.

"No. They don't usually come to my flat", I say bluntly, maintaining eye contact. I can feel my stomach turning, not sure if it's the butterflies or the hangover. He needs to leave so I can lie down because I do not feel good. "Was there anything else? Sir?", I say. His eyes squint.

"Have you been drinking?", he says. For fuck's sake. LEAVE.

"That is none of your business", I say and cross my arms, trying to seem as nonchalant as possible. The nausea is seriously starting to kick in now. I can feel the blood leaving my head, and my stomach giving cramp-like contractions. He looks at me concerned.

"Jesus Olivia, are you okay?", he says. My body finally surrenders, and I run, fast, into the bathroom and throw up into the toilet. 

Well, there goes my job.

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