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It's as if she doesn't know me.
Her silence makes me feel feral in my vulnerability. One minute, I'm confessing my love for this women—a dangerous fucking thing to do considering this '100 Days' contest isn't even over and I have everything to lose—and the next, she's vanishing quicker than a ghost.
I'm like a wild animal locked in this office.
I swear I'm losing it. I'm even hoarding small things that remind me of Athena—it started out simple, keeping a small cocktail napkin from our first date, and then holding onto an earring she left behind in my bed sheets.
Who have I become?
I pull my cell phone from my pocket and dial her again. I listen to the phone ring, and ring, and ring before going to voicemail.
I end the call in disgust. I refuse to leave another message.
Then I buzz my secretary.
"Stacey, re-schedule all of today's meetings."
"No problem, Mr. Bane. Is everything okay?"
"No, but it will be."
I let go of the intercom button, and send a message to my driver.
If Athena won't take my calls, I'll come to her and catch her off guard at her office.
There's no way I'm going to forget this ever happened because none of this makes sense. What if she's hurt? What if something terrible has happened and I don't even know about it?
That seems unlikely, but still … at the very least, I deserve to find out what's going on. Because at this rate, it feels like my fucking life is on hold.
Athena has consumed me. I can't think about anything else to the point that nothing else exists.
No amount of masturbating, working out at the gym, or whiskey drinking will erase her from my mind.
I walk to the curb outside and see my driver standing next to the car, holding the back passenger door open.
"Afternoon, sir. Where to today?"
"Thanks, Henry. Take me to Millionaire Matches, Inc. headquarters."
"Right away sir."
Within moments, the car is pulling into the steady flow of traffic, and I sink into the soft black leather, closing my eyes.
With my eyes shut, I can smell Athena's hair—sweet and exotic and faraway from the city—Mandarin oranges served on a slice of salty ocean. I can almost feel the way her pulse flutters in her neck, like a caged butterfly against my lips.
Athena—the ancient Greek goddess of wisdom and war. Yes, that seems to ring true—even for this modern-day Athena.
Before I know it, the car is pulling up to her building. It's a marvel of architectural achievement—all steel and glass as far as the eye can see.
I thank Henry for the ride, and walk toward the building's elevators. I ride them all the way up to her office, the whole time wondering if she's going to be here.
I walk out of the elevator, and into her office.
"Excuse me, sir?" her secretary says, and I blow right past his desk.
I don't have time for niceties.
When I reach her door, it's open, and I see her.
