+WHY NOT-

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Kenneth pushed, Monday managed to pique his interest the moment she left the auditorium the first day. She seemed in the dark. Kenneth could not accept the unrealistic way she saw love. He imagined all the women and men who read her books and believed such romances existed and the deception of never feeling the unique sentiment of meeting the one.

Monday was the guru of the two in the mans' eyes. She was the one who made people believe they could meet billionaires, misinterpreted bad boys with interstellar eyes, protein-built abs. The ordinary clueless guy, with an average income and looks, had no chance against the fictional perfection Monday and consors crafted.

The womans' eyes scoped the room, and her gaze centered back on Kenneth's blue eyes, predominant ski-slope roman nose, and beard, "no, no one."

"I see; you must have strict criteria," Kenneth said and took a sip of his lager.

"Why do you say that?" Monday asked.

"There's a large array of men here."

"Yes, but none are my type," Monday said and grinned.

"How do you know that?"Kenneth wished to know what path her reasoning took.

"Because one does, there's the feeling," she replied.

"Oh, I see, that love at first sight, first encounter thing, right?"

Monday cocked a brow, "what's this hint of sarcasm I hear?"

"You know my thoughts about that," the man said and took another sip of his beer.

"How should one go about it then? One knows when they meet someone and the potential lane they're going to take."

Kenneth shrugged, "I don't."

"But you don't believe in love, so does it matter? Iㅡ."

"I bet all the men you imagine are perfect psychically. And all your stories end on a happy note with marriages and babies."

Mondays' mind raced. She tried to find a counter to the statement which was true, "well, they're romance. And yes, I embellish my men, and no, my stories don't always end on a happy note."

"What? Don't tell me you have a few who don't ride of under the sunset with Mr.Perfect."

"I've killed two of my MCs."

"That's not an alternative. You made them forfeit by death," the man exclaimed, making Monday laugh.

Kenneth observed her and smiled.

"Kenneth," someone interrupted.

Across the room, Meredith watched the scene.

"You should stop doing that. You look like a stalker."

"Piss off, Rob."

"Honestly, Meredith, you should move on. There's nothing worse than having a crush on your boss."

"Oh, because you believe it's something I control."

Meredith hurt, after six years of loyal service, Kenneth still didn't see the woman who devoted her entire existence to him. She was more than his PA. Meredith wore multiple hats and filled in all the positions the man needed. The woman even nursed him when he caught colds or typed his drafts when his arm was in a cast due to an injury while rafting.

"Look at him. He's having the time of his life, and you'reㅡ."

"Fuck off, Rob," Meredith walked away.

She knew Rob wished to help, but she didn't want to hear what he had to say. Men always finished by noticing the woman beside them, didn't they?

She wished Kenneth would notice her as Noah Letterman did with India. She, too, had tuned into Daye Yenis' romance channel and read the book, but what she saw at that instant made Meredith want to unsubscribe.

While she left for the lady's room, Monday profited from the strangers' interruption in her conversation to flee Kenneth. She bid farewell to Ben, Tim, Lennon, and Katelyn and left. 11 pm seemed a reasonable hour to ditch the dinner.

The rain poured, and the woman waited a few minutes for it to calm down. In the meantime, Kenneth managed to free himself. He looked about; his playmate was nowhere in sight; hence there was no reason for him to stay. The man began a tour of farewells before leaving. Meredith came back to find him gone. Kenneth didn't even seek her.

Monday hurried, the hotel was at a walking distance, she had to hand it to the BookInc comity the arrangements they made were fantastic. She was too tipsy for a Koh-Latha survival course to get to the hotel. Her mind already replayed the day and evening. As expected, Kenneth was everywhere. His annoying voice, beard, the negligent strand of hair that fell on his eye, hisㅡ.

A tap on her shoulder made the woman jump, "Tule, [yoruba slang meaning, free me, release me or leave me].

"Pardon," Kenneth said while holding an umbrella over her head.

"You scared the living daylights out of me."

"Sorry, I saw you, and it's raining. No one comes to London without an umbrella."

"I know, I forgot mine at the hotel. By the way, what are you doing here? Don't tell me you came to give me an umbrella."

"Eh, you're overestimating me. I'm not a chivalrous type of person. I was on my way back to the hotel, and I saw you, " the man said, bursting Mondays' dream bubble.

"Where are you staying?" Monday asked.

"The four Knights."

"What?" Monday stopped in her tracks.

 How could Kenneth be in the same hotel?

"Why, what's the problem?" Kenneth asked.

"I'm staying there too, and I never crossed you andㅡ."

The woman forgot how eager she was the first day and how late Kenneth was every day. Their lives seemed to be on different timelines, so they missed each other.

Kenneth grinned, "I love popping up where and when people don't expect me."

They resumed their stride and soon entered the hotel, where they checked in and took the elevator.

"Which floor?" Monday asked.

"Tenth."

Monday pressed the button for Kenneth and her. They began to go up; silence regained until the third floor, where Kenneth broke it, "we didn't finish our conversation earlier."

"Yes, I guess it will be next time."

"How about now?"

They were on the five-floor. The next stop was Mondays'; it was now or never for Kenneth.

The woman cocked a brow and turned to face him, "now, where?"

"In my suite."

A ring indicated their arrival on the sixth floor, and the door opened.

"How about it?" Kenneth said.

It was one of those moments where, if someone asked why they did it, one would shrug and answer like Monday, "why not?"

The lift doors closed, and they went up to Kenneth's suite.

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