Passion and Ambitions

Chapter Eleven: Young, Wild, and Free

Chapter Eleven: Young, Wild, and Free

   Ever since that faithful day, Phoebe had drowned herself in work and parties. Fashion week here, branch opening there; party all over. Searching for fashion trends in her posh office had been her sweet escape from all the drama that occured to her. And instead of moping and locking herself from the rest of the world as what most women would do post-breakup with a cheating dumbass, Phoebe opted for a makeover.

   She refused to acknowledge that Steve existed, and she never passed by even accidentally to the finance department. Her staff knows better than to ask her if she's fine, and continued to act that no horrible breakup ever happened. One staff, who surely had a good intention, asked Phoebe if she's fine a week after the breakup. And boy, did she regret it. Phoebe was so angry that her locked in frustration and grief came rushing out and she instantly fired the staff.

   Melanie did not even dare to mention anything or anyone that might remind Phoebe of Steve. For one, she knows that Phoebe really did pour her heart out, but Steve left it shattered in a million pieces.

   Late that night, Phoebe found herself in a club, staring blankly at the vodka she just ordered.

"You look bothered," a voice said.

   Phoebe blinked and turned her head to face the man who spoke. Her breath caught in her throat. A pair of deep blue eyes looked right through her. The man in front of her looked like a model that just walked out of a magazine. Chiseled features, tall, raven hair. And heyyyyyy, quite sure that inside that black long sleeved shirt is a rock hard body.

"It pains me to see such beautiful woman looking all sad," the gorgeous, perfectly made stranger said.

   Phoebe gathered herself and closed her mouth to prevent herself from drooling and making a fool of herself.

"I'm not sad," she said, gulping the vodka.

"Oh, but you're alone."

   The man leaned to the desk, facing Phoebe while looking at her intently.

"Being alone doesn't equate to sadness," she said, not even looking at the man.

"Really," the man challenged.

   Phoebe spinned her seat to face the god beside her. She was stunned. Again. It took her all her might to keep herself together and stop herself from jumping on the man. He might think of her as easy. Or a psycho.

"Yes. Really. In fact, I am sooo happy being on my own. Not obliged to answer to anyone's calls. Not having to change yourself to suit someone else's ideal image. Not needing to put up with crap and shit."

   The man's eyes narrowed and mouthed an "ouch".

"Wew, that's a little to negative. Don't you think, mi amor?"

   The man smiled. Phoebe held her breath.

"It's not. It's true."

   Phoebe signaled the bartender for another round and was about to pay when the stunning stranger caught her hand. The bartender looked at them.

"I've got it. I'll pay," he said to the waiter. He looked at Phoebe. "All in the house, missy."

   A charmer, Phoebe thought. Always. Everytime she falls for the one who just knows all the right things to say and do. This time, she's not going to let that happen.

"What do you really want?"

"Nothing."

    Phoebe chuckled.