Going Ghost

Chapter Two

Three days have passed since the incident. Three long, tense and awkward days. Greyson won't look me in the eye and I more or less have been pretending he simply doesn't exist. We sit across from each other during work hours, only occasionally sparing the other a glance and then disperse like cockroaches at 5pm.

We're also no closer to figuring out our first in with our subjects, though I've learned an absorbent amount about each of them. The group is composed of four insanely well-to-do couples that have been a tight knit unit since college and seemingly function as one core family. First there's Olivia and Charles Miller, Olivia is an insanely popular romance author who lately, according to gossip blogs, has been dipping her toe into more erotic plotlines. Then her husband Charles, the tamer of the pair, who made his wealth on Wall Street.

Olivia and Charles are the type of couple that look like they may really have been made for each other, both sporting gorgeous red locks and faces that put Supermodels to shame.

Next we have Luna and Liam Carter who procured their wealth within a growing tech start up and investment banking. Their combined aura practically reeks of power and a regalness only royals should be capable of possessing. The type of couple you want to stop and stare at as you walk down the street, captivated by not only their otherworldly beauty but also the obvious security and confidence that very few can successfully pull off.

The third couple in the quartet's Google images make me wish I had brought a bag to cover my face with at all times. Isabella and Logan Taylor are incandescent. Logan's white hair and angular face make me do a double take while Isabella's soft features make me feel right at home. The type of people you spill all of your dirty secrets to and don't regret it the next morning. Logan is a world class neurosurgeon, taking charge of the medical community and new cutting edge research, and Isabella runs several charities with a focus on inclusivity and exposing the healthcare system for it's abhorrent treatment of minorities.

The final couple is again, obviously beautiful, Ayva and Jason Anderson look like they should be plastered on every magazine cover in the States and yet they are a force to be reckoned with within the courtroom. A powerful Defense Attorney duo that bestow feelings of safety and comfort to every criminal in the country. Well the ones that can afford them at least.

These are not the kind of people you bump into at Walmart and strike up a conversation with, our meet cute has to be well thought out, rehearsed and seemingly natural. They are intelligent, successful and can likely smell a snake in the grass from miles away - and I have nothing. No time to waste and yet not a single idea how to orchestrate our first interaction. I slide my hands through my hair in frustration while researching their common hangouts. I'm grasping at straws and I know it, but these people have no recognizable pattern. No specific restaurant or bar that they frequent.

"I've got it!" Greyson yells, pumping his fist into the air. "They are annual attendees of a charity gala taking place this Saturday."

The relief that washed over me was soon replaced with envy. Greyson's fingers, no doubt, began searching for a way Mr. & Mrs. Greyson 'Powell' to be in attendance.

The satisfied smirk on his face begging me to either seat myself on top of it and ride myself to a pleasure only his mouth brings me or throw my glass paperweight at it.

"Ya know, for someone so desperate for the promotion, you don't seem to be putting up much of a fight." He said, shutting his computer off and sauntering out of the room.

"Go to hell, Greyson." I yelled at his retreating figure.

"You first."

How is it that the most insufferable man in the world happens to be the one man I can't get out of my mind. He is crass, rude and above all else he made it clear that his interest in me was purely sexual. Not only that, but couldn't even muster up the courage to tell me that himself. Instead, choosing to cease all communications and pretend it never happened.