Chapter 4: Not My Lucky Day

༺RAYNE༻

It’s been a week since my life came crashing down. I’m broke, homeless and devastated. But at least I’ve got a roof over my head. Even if it’s a cheap dirty motel that could definitely pass off as a brothel.

Thanks to the money that man had given me, I was able to pay for accommodation, get a few clothes and food. And now, I’m at the brink of being kicked out of the motel. I’ve also run out of my medication. I never would’ve thought my life would ever come down to this.

I’ll never forgive you, Henry!

The only fortunate thing about my miserable life right now is that I still have a job. I started working as an assistant secretary at Everhart Investments a few months before my wedding. It’s among the largest investment banks in the world.

And like a fool, I deposited all the money I made into my and Henry’s joint account for our wedding. I trusted him blindly. Now look where it has gotten me.

I’m back at work. I have to get my life together although, I’m not sure how. I don’t know how I’m even going to work when I’m constantly worrying about my meds and my bills.

“Rayne!” Elena shrieks from behind me. “Or should I call you Mrs Manchester now?”

I force a smile. “I’m fine with Rayne.”

“It’s good to have you back. We missed you. I’m so sorry I couldn’t make it to the wedding.”

“It’s okay. You didn’t miss much, really,” I reply, still wearing the fakest smile ever.

Oh, she certainly missed the drama of the century.

Elena escorts me to my desk. “So tell me. How was your honeymoon? Where did you two go for a week? Come on, spill!”

I just wish she’d stop with her questions. How do I tell her I ran out of the altar after finding out my future husband not only got another woman pregnant but also slept with all of my bridesmaids?

“How could there have been a honeymoon when there was no wedding?” Trish interrupts, making her way towards us.

She smirks, staring at me, ready to start her BS. Oh, I despise her and the feeling is mutual.

“What are you on about?” Elena asks.

“The better question is where is Rayne's wedding ring?” Trish steps closer, a nasty grin on her face. “Oh, you didn't know? There was no wedding. I heard the groom's been knocking up every bimbo present at the wedding, even her best friend.”

I wince as Elena's eyes bulge out of her head. I just want the ground to open up and swallow me. How did Trish even find out about it? If Trish knows, then everyone at work is bound to find out. I'm going to be a laughing stock here.

“Trish, that's not funny.” Elena shoots her a warning look.

“Oh please, it's not like I'm saying anything she doesn't already know. And let's not forget how Rayne made a fool of herself by running away from the altar in her wedding dress, screaming and crying like a madwoman.”

Even though she's exaggerating the whole thing, it still hurts. Tears prickle my eyes and my heart squeezes in pain. I don't have the words to respond to her.

"I never thought it was even possible to be more pathetic than you were," Trish continues. "Pity." She walks away.

Elena turns to me. “I’m sorry, Rayne,” she sympathizes.

“It’s fine."

I turn on my computer, trying to focus on my work. But the pain is unbearable, I can barely concentrate.

“Rayne,” Derek calls, heading towards me. “Santa called in sick. She's down with a nasty bout of food poisoning.”

My heart sinks. Santa being sick means chaos in the office. She’s the secretary, the one who keeps everything together. She's the only one who interacts with the boss. Without her, the whole system falls apart.

“You'll need to handle all her work today. And the boss needs those files in less than an hour.” Derek drops a stack of paperwork on my desk and I feel my heart drop to my shoes. It's like the universe is conspiring against me today.

“You've gotta be kidding me,” I mutter under my breath. “Santa's files? That's a ton of work. I can't do it."

“Well, I don't think you have a choice. You're her assistant after all." He points to the paperwork. "It's an acquisition project. Everhart is buying a tech start-up that's been doing really well. The boss needs the details for the negotiations in less than an hour.”

Derek leaves and I get to work, scanning the files. It's all very technical and I don't understand half of it. I start typing out notes but my brain is so fuzzy, I'm not sure if I'm making any sense at all. The words are all blurring together and I can feel a headache coming on.

This is harder than I thought it would be.

The minutes fly by and before I know it, the intercom buzzes. “Rayne Sullivan, the boss wants to see you in his office. Now.”

I feel my heart lurch into my throat. I'm not even halfway done with Santa's files and now the boss wants to see me? This can't be good.

I gather the files and head to the boss' office, my hands trembling and my heart thumping in my chest. I've never met the man before. He seems to be a very private person. He has a private elevator and works in a locked office that's like a vault.

He's almost never seen in public and never gives interviews. I've heard from Trish and some of my other coworkers that he's very good-looking. I can only hope his heart is as warm as his face.

I knock once on the door. “Come in,” a deep voice says from behind the door..

The voice... It sounds familiar....

I swallow, clutching the papers in my grasp and slowly enter the office. And when I come face-to-face with my boss, my jaw drops. My eyes widen, my eyebrows shoot up towards my hairline and I'm sure my face drains of colour.

It can't be.

The same man... My one night stand is actually my boss?

The nameplate boldly spells it out—Liam Everhart.

I slept with Liam Everhart?

He glances up from his computer and looks at me. I see something like a surprise flicker in his eyes. But suddenly, his expression hardens.

“Rayne Sullivan?” His voice is icy and stern.

I stutter, "Y...y...es."

“I hear you're handling Miss Mauricio's work today.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Well, I need her files on the Peterson acquisition,” he tells me, stretching his hand out.

I'm still dazed by the shocking revelation but Mr Everhart, on the other hand, doesn't seem bothered. In fact, it's like he doesn't recognize me from that night. I feel a prickle in my chest. How could he not recognize me? Or is he pretending?

He takes the files from me, his fingers brushing against mine and I have to resist the urge to pull away. He begins to skim through, his brows furrowing.

“What's this? You're not done?” he barks, glaring at me.

“Actually, I...need some more time.”

“Do you have any idea how much money is at stake here? This is a big deal, Miss Sullivan. Can you even handle it?”

My vision blurs for a while and I open my mouth to speak but the words don't come out. This seems to infuriate Mr Everhart because his tone becomes harsher.

“Well? Can you do it or not? I don't have time for timidity and incompetence. This is business. This is about money. This is about the future of this company. Do you think you can deliver or should I find someone with the brains to do it?”

"I...I can do it," I stammer. "I can handle it, sir.”

Mr Everhart narrows his eyes at me and leans forward. “You better. This is a make-or-break moment for you, Miss Sullivan. I want these files done and on my desk by the end of the day. If you deliver, I'll make sure you get a raise. If you don't, you can kiss your job goodbye.”

I swallow hard. “Yes, sir. I'll get it done.”

"Good. Now get out of my office and get to work.”

As I reach for the files, I feel my head spin and my feet wobble. I know this feeling all too well—it's my blood sugar plummeting. I've gone too long without my insulin.

My vision gets blurrier and I accidentally knock Mr Everhart's coffee off his desk. The liquid spills all over his suit, making his brows draw into a frown.

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to,” I whimper and go closer to him and lean downwards. I start rubbing the liquid off his lower body frantically, my breathing heavy.

“That's enough. Take your hands off me,” he snaps at me.

But I don't listen. I keep trying to rub the stain off his suit. And that's when the dizziness hits me harder. I stumble and crash against his chest. Our lips almost touch and my hand presses hard against his groin.

Oh no!

His face turns red. I manage to get up and he follows. “What do you think you're doing? Are you trying to seduce me?”

“No," I whisper. I'm sweating now and my stomach feels queasy.

“Was the money I gave you the other night not enough?”

“No, I—”

“Get out. Get out of my office. Now.”

I'm speechless, unable to form a single word. And then my body finally gives up. I expect to collapse on the floor. But instead, I feel two strong arms catch me. His face is the last thing I see before everything goes black.