Trashy Trace

CHLOE'S POV

June 2021

23rd Street, New York, USA

"Chloe McIntyre! Wait!"

I stopped in my tracks when I heard his voice. Oliver James, my handsome boss and the CEO of the company where I've been working for a year. 

Being one of the junior interior designers, it was my ladder to keep him close. This guy was the man of my dreams. Why the hell not? He was a perfect gentleman, wealthy, and had a good heart. Twenty per cent of his company's earnings were distributed to his chosen charities. He's just too good to be true, and… he's mine.

Wondering the possible reason, I stood beside my car and waited for him to come closer.

"Hey, Oliver!" I smiled at him.

He was almost catching his breath when he finally stood before me. "Going home already?"

"Ah, yeah," I said, tucking loose strands of hair behind my ear. "What's the matter? Do you need anything?"

"Well, I just wanna ask you something." He shrugged.

It felt like heaven as we exchanged glances. He seemed to be musing in his deep thoughts, so I took the chance to smize him all to my heart's content. Oliver was thirty-eight, while I am twenty-three. It's a fifteen-year age gap, yet it didn't matter. I believed he was mature enough to handle relationships, unlike others who were just after sex and everything that goes with it.

Then I remember Carly, my older sister. Since my sister graduated with flying colours, she had a handful of companies to work with. Nonetheless, New York had been our top priority to hustle with. This was our dream and to-go place since we were kids. We wanted to be free and live self-reliant lives, and we made it. When I finished college, I'd been with Carly. We're living independently here.

But six months ago, Carly's life turned upside down. I found her in bed, bathed in her pool of blood. Carly committed suicide, and the name and words written on the wall were 'Trace Dimagiba. I hate you!' 

After that, Carly lived with my parents in California because she was diagnosed with severe depression. The reason? She fell in love with a douchebag. I knew nothing about her fucktard boyfriend, but I knew my sister well. My sister is very conservative, so I don't understand why Trace Dimagiba dropped her like a hot potato. Carly trusted him, but all she got was misery. I hate that man! Send him to the devil, and I would celebrate, sure. To this day, I cannot accept why that bastard hurt my sister. Carly was a respectable, exceptional woman with a heart for the less fortunate. My sister was a devoted volunteer for charities that helped orphans.

"Hey, um, are you free on Saturday?" Oliver disturbed my thoughts about Carly.

I gaped at Oliver. Oh, gee! How could I forget about him? Jeez! I nodded slowly and looked straight into his eyes. "Oh, I'm sorry, I spaced out."

"No worries," Oliver chuckled and added, "So, are you available? Saturday night, I mean."

"Sure. Saturday, then," I replied enthusiastically.

The butterflies in my stomach danced gloriously as I gazed at his dreamy, expressive eyes. He's obviously into me, just as I am into him. This was possibly my shot at his heart! 

Saturday. That would be four days to wait. Cool! My flight was scheduled for next week, and if I could convince Oliver to accompany me, I would have the opportunity to introduce him to my parents. That would be great. We could take a plane back to New York on Monday.

"Is it alright if I ask you to please stop calling me 'sir,' Chloe?" Oliver asked me with a bright smile.

"Uh, well..." I was thrilled. "What should I call you then?"

"Just call me Oliver," he said. "I feel old every time you address me that way."

I smiled and bit the inner side of my lower lip. "A'ight! Oliver." I will not play hard-to-get. I can be with him, so I won't waste it.

"I will see you on Saturday night then," he said with a smile, and I nodded.

I was damn speechless for a second. And when I was about to tell Oliver my address, suddenly my phone rang. I excused myself as I saw the caller's ID on my phone. It was Mom.

"I will go now." Oliver bid me goodbye and didn't wait for my answer; he immediately left. It was disappointing that he left me, but I had to answer Mommy's call first.

"Mom."