There are only five things I truly love in this worldâjust five. My dad, my business, Kia, the color red, and my Ferrari.
Don't get me wrong, I mean, there are plenty of things I like, but love? That's reserved for only a selected few.
I learned my lesson early on, having a knack as a kid for loving all the wrong thingsâlike my mom and cooking. Big surprise, both turned out to be absolute letdowns. Honestly, though, cooking hurt more. That was one heartbreak I didn't see coming.
However, life was so much easier as a kid. You could find yourself in the most embarrassing situations and somehow walk away completely unbothered. Imagine falling flat on your face, back then, it was just a funny story, not a mortifying memory you'd replay at 3 a.m.
Funny enough, I was always the one stumbling into those embarrassing and awkward situations. Back then, I couldn't care less about it, I'd just laugh it off. But now, the more mature version of me and the businesswoman I've become, find myself completely unsure of how to handle moments like that.
Don't believe me? Well here's what is happening,
Fast forward to now, and I've found myself in the most awkward position imaginable. Here's the dilemma: how do you turn down a potential client, one who could bring a ton of profit to my company, when they ask you on a date, without losing the deal?
You don't. Want to know why? Simple, very easy, uncomplicated and- actually let's save some time, it's just one word; Money.
You would be an idiot to turn him down.
Well, guess what? I'm that idiot.
I can't physically, emotionally, spiritually, sexual-uhm, sorry, let's not go there. The point is I can't even think about being associated with him as an acquaintance let alone as his girlfriend.
His face alone is so repulsive. I hate looking at his face, I wanna smash it.
If you got that reference hit me up, maybe we can-
"And of course, I told him no," Ryan said smugly, lounging back in his chair. "So what if he served me promptly and brought my food on time? That's literally his job. How can he expect me to tip him for doing what he's already being paid to do? The nerve of that waiter, calling me conceited and rude. Does he even realize who he's talking to? I could crush him with the slightest effort." Ryan James, owner of Ryan James Co., one of the most successful companies in the state, smirked as he finished his rant.
Ryan was far from unattractive. With his blonde hair, blue eyes, sunken cheeks, and thin red lips, he had a certain charm. Even his slightly crooked nose didn't disrupt the balance of his features. Overall, he could be considered cute, if only he weren't the biggest jerk on the planet.
"Anyway, I didn't invite you to lunch to talk about some ridiculous waiter begging for a tip," he said, finishing off the last of his spaghetti.
Is this guy serious? I used to be a waitress, and let me tell you, I dealt with so many assholes like Ryan on a daily basis. The worst part? The staff can't even stand up for themselves because it could cost them their job. After putting up with all that nonsense all day, they absolutely deserve a motherfucking tip.
"I can see some confusion on your face," he says, smiling like he's just cracked the code.
That's not confusion, you dumbass, that's disgust.
"I asked you to lunch to tell you something really important. Something I have been wanting to say since a long time." he continues.
Don't say it. Don't make me vomit the delicious pasta.
"I really like you, Iliana, and I'd love to take you out on a date."
And there it is. He actually said it.
"No," I blurt out.
"Excuse me?" he asks, staring at me with a shocked expression, like he can't believe I just said that.
"I didn't say anything! What?" I stammer, trying to backtrack.
"You just said no."
"No, I didn't!"
"Yes, you did!"
"Yes, I did," I admit, my voice cracking. Oh God, there's no stopping me today, I'm absolutely going to cry.
""What? IâI thought you liked me!" he stammers, still reeling from the rejection.
"I actually don't like you at all. Like, at all," I say, trying my best to sound gentle, though I'm pretty sure it's not working. "How do I put this without being hurtful?" I pause, desperately searching for the right words, but all I can think to say is, "Okay, what I feel for you is... well, the same thing Michael feels for Toby."
His face turns a deep shade of red.
Did I just say that out loud?
I try to say something else, but it's too late. The damage is done, and honestly, I'm not even sorry.
He looks at me, somehow managing to appear both confused and furious at the same time.
I try to clarify further,"you know from The office?"
"What the fuck is that?" he almost yells, his voice rising in anger.
That's offensive!
I glance around the expensive restaurant, making sure no one is watching this grown man throw a toddler-level tantrum.
Before I can even respond, he cuts me off. "And now you're calling me by another man's name? I'm a Michael now?"
Oh wha- excuse me?
"First of all, I'm Michael always. Don't even think about taking that title away from me
ever. Honestly, you'd be more like Jan or Toby.
Second, Ryan, you need to respect and uphold the professionalism my company values. I make it a rule never to mix business with pleasure, and frankly, there's no pleasure in being with yâ" I catch myself, clearing my throat quickly as I notice his fists clenching.
"So, I don't think it would be wise to jeopardize our working relationship. We make a great team professionally, and I'd prefer to keep it that way."
"Oh Baby, you don't need to worry about professionalism," he said softly. Ew.
"You know that once you're with me, you won't even have to work, right? You can leave your company and just be with me completely. No job, no stress, just staying home and relaxing. Well, maybe doing a few chores , basic woman stuff here and there, but that's it." He said it like it was the most normal thing in the world.
Did he? Did he really just say that? Did he really?
Okay enough being nice. Time to be a boss bitch.
I raised an eyebrow, giving him a sweet but sharp smile. "Oh, how generous of you. So, your big plan is for me to give up my career, financial independence, and everything I've worked hard for... to play house with you and cater to your fragile ego? Tempting, but I think I'll pass. I prefer being the CEO of my own life and my multi-billionaire company, thanks."
Leaning back, I continued, my tone dripping with sarcasm. "Oh, and just so we're clear, your company needs mine a whole lot more than I need yours. But since you think so little of women, let me make it easy for you: our deal is off. Good luck finding someone who'll tolerate that outdated, delusional mindset." With that I stand up and throw a few hundred thousands bills on the table and walk out of the restaurant.
I stride toward my red Ferrari, my mood instantly lifting. The sleek car gleams under the sunlight, a symbol of everything I've worked hard to achieve. Sliding into the driver's seat, I rest my head on the plush headrest and let out a deep sigh.
It was a solid deal, no doubt about it. But Dad always said the most expensive thing in the world is respect, and if someone can't give you that, you walk away, no matter what's at stake.
As I grip the steering wheel, an exhausted but small smile creeps onto my face. Deals will come and go, but my self-respect? That's non-negotiable.
With that thought I start driving home.
London is onto a good start.