Chapter 2. Caramel

"You've got it, Caramel. I got you the deal," someone said from behind. I adjusted on my seat and twisted to see my agent, Paul. My lips twitched upward. It can't be what I'm thinking.

"Don't play with me," I answered, unable to contain my excitement. My wavering voice gave it all away.

"They accepted you." He slumped into a seat beside me.

"What? Stop it." I playfully slapped his arm. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach and I wanted to scream. Finally, just when I was about to give up, I got it. "Who? I don't care but who?"

"Guess," he teased.

"Ah, no. I'm terrible at guessing." I swirled the orange juice in my glass.

"One try."

I peered to the ceiling and plunged my mind into thoughts. "The college player. What's her name? Sasha. The one with rich parents who really loves playing tennis but she's just too bad."

Paul laughed. "Okay, that was horrible."

I sighed. "Come on. This suspense is killing me." Taking a sip of my juice, I waited for his response.

He smiled. "Fine. It's Blaze Nightingale."

My eyes shone as I spurted the juice. It splattered across the table onto Paul. Crap. "Sorry," I apologized, grabbing a napkin and dabbing it on the spill as Paul wiped himself. "Tell me who I am coaching. This is an expensive joke, Paul."

"The fuck. I thought you'll leap from that chair and scream for jou," he commented.

"How would I coach, the Blaze Nightingale?"

"You are good."

"He is Blaze."

"Relax."

"I'm not freaking out." Actually, I was. My brain couldn't register the fact that I would be coaching the fastest-rising tennis player in the country. "It's impossible for him to settle for a person of my calibre."

"About that?" Paul averted his gaze from mine.

"What did you do?" My once-over widened. I knew Paul. He always took drastic measures and sometimes it scared me how far he was willing to go for what he wanted.

"It doesn't matter, what I did. Just utilise this opportunity."

"Paul?" I wasn't comfortable with his response.

"Shhh. We should celebrate. Not just anywhere but the Gran-jelé club. Now you have a celebrity as a client, you should be seen with the elites."

"Gran-jelé is too expensive for me."

"For once, stop overthinking. When you get there, call me. I'll tell someone to let you in. I'll be there later."

I groaned. "Why can't I come when you are there? I don't know anyone."

"Then blend in, Caramel. You're not a child. Start acting like it."

He dipped his hand into his pocket and brought out his sunglasses. "Have a lovely evening, beautiful." My cheeks heated up. Paul had been my agent for about a year now and though, our relationship is entirely professional, I secretly wished we could be more. Maybe it's for the best this way.

Time flew by and night arrived. It didn't matter how Paul got the deal. I needed to celebrate, I was currently the coach to Blaze. My heart danced and leaped in my chest. I wore a silk silver gown, with a V-line revealing my cleavage and an exposed back.

Gran-jelé was the talk of the town but I had never set foot in the place until today. My eyes shone as I drank the embodiment of luxury. It smelt rich and the cool air engulfed me like I was royalty. I swayed my hips and danced into the club after getting easy access from the bouncers through Paul's influence. 

This was the most expensive club in town. The leather seats reeked of elegance, including the hanging chandelier and especially the people who hung out here. They were way above my class. Yet, here I was. Amongst them. Soon to be like them. 

I took a harsh breath and decided to get a drink. Maybe one drink until Paul comes. I knew the price of anything in such a place would be impossible for me to pay. But a shot of tequila would probably cost less.

Striding to the bar, I stumbled on my own two left feet. I cussed. "Shit." A liquid seeped into my dress and the stench found my nostril quickly. "Asshole you ruined my dressed," I barked. Lifting my head, our eyes locked. Blaze Nightingale. My client. I shrieked. 

This man was sculpted to resemble angels. Strong muscles bulging from his T-shirt, a square face and dimpled chin. Thinned pink lips and sleek black hair. I gulped. How would I survive coaching such a model? "I'm sorry. I missed my step."

A smirk appeared on his lips, magnifying his beauty. "No worries. We're even. I mean, I did ruin your beautiful dress," he said. I watched his eyes, scan my body. He was checking me out. I hope he likes what he sees. "Maybe I could buy you a drink, if you don't mind." He motioned to the empty seat beside him and I took it.

"A shot of tequila please," I ordered. He shot me a confused look and chuckled.

"What? Are you a kid? Tequila will do nothing more than drinking a glass of juice."

"Well, I don't know much about drinks."

My heart hammered hard. I didn't know if he knew I was his new coach. I couldn't bring myself to tell him just yet. The attention he showered on me was enough to make me numb.

"Don't worry. I'll order something for you." He called the bartender and made my order. "You'll have something sweet to drink tonight. And maybe we could continue the fun together in my room," he whispered. The warmness of his breath tingled my ears. 

"What do you mean?"

His grin grew. He pulled my face toward him and claimed my lips. No no, stop it. He's your client. Yet, I couldn't my move. His charms hypnotised me and I froze.