Chapter 2 The Message from Michael

Emma snapped awake in the dead of night. The man next to her was still asleep, his arm circled around her in reassurance. His breaths were a soft tickle on her neck. As the fog of alcohol cleared, so did her senses. What had she done? Gosh, she had slept with her CEO! Panic spiked through Emma as she slipped from his hold and scrambled out of bed. She threw on her clothes, scooped up her things, and bolted from room 1501. She checked into a new room at the hotel's front desk as if her life depended on it. While paying with her phone, she realized that she had not reached out to Isabella. It was Michael she had messaged! She remembered the high school reunion from years ago. The class president had set up a group chat and insisted everyone add each other. Emma vividly recalled Michael adding her first. He never messaged, though, and she had simply assigned him a nickname. That was then, and this was now. It was a mess of colossal proportions. Upon settling in the new room, she took a moment to steady her nerves. She then quit the high school group chat. She changed her profile name from Emma to Lily and downloaded some random girl’s photo for her profile picture. He would not have a clue who she was now. It would be too obvious to delete the app outright. Besides, room 1501 was booked under the company’s name. There would be no paper trail leading back to her. With the digital tracks covered, she finally let sleep claim her. When the alarm blared at dawn, it was business as usual. Emma was scheduled to shadow Mr. Taylor in crucial talks with Skydancer Corp regarding a financial bailout. The convertible bonds they held had significantly declined in value, which raised concerns about their financial position. If they did not take swift action to address the declining bond value and potential liquidity issues, their assets were as good as gone. This emergency had scored them seats on the CEO's private flight to Oakridge City, an unexpected perk of the crisis. After dressing up, she clutched her paperwork and dashed for the lobby, which was the rendezvous point. Soon, Isabella came over while grumbling under her breath, “Mr. Taylor was dead wrong. He was adamant we weren’t backing up the funds. And then, right there on the trust company’s contract copy, his signature was plain as day!” “Shh, Mr. Taylor's almost here. We can’t let him overhear you.” Emma tugged at Isabella, pulling her aside. Before she could say more, a towering figure accompanied by a group of men in suits strode out of the elevator. It was Michael. Gone was the bathrobe from last night, replaced by a crisp black suit. His brows were knitted together, and his lips were pursed into a line. He seemed engrossed in the secretary’s briefing, oblivious to Emma and Isabella. Michael's chill was legendary in corporate circles. His striking features were always harsh, exuding an untouchable pride that almost made the air around him frost over. Emma could not connect the man from last night, who had kissed her tears away, with this distant figure. She must have been dreaming. “Our Mr. Brown, what a looker! To spend just one night with him, I’d die a happy woman,” Isabella mused, not catching Emma’s discomfort. “We both share the surname Brown, yet look how different we are! Emma, what's got you so lost in thought?” Jolted by Isabella’s touch, Emma retreated as she thought of dodging Michael. Fate, it seemed, had other plans. As Michael and his entourage neared the exit, they halted abruptly. They were just a stone's throw away from the women. He glanced down one second and raised his eyelids the next second before whispering to his secretary, “Find out who was in room 1501 last night.” The numbers struck Emma like a thunderbolt, making her legs suddenly feel as heavy as lead. Her thoughts were a whirlwind. She could barely register Isabella’s voice cutting through the turmoil. “Room 1501? Mr. Brown, Emma was the one in there last night!”