Just with a Kiss

She still didn't understand. How could she have accepted such a proposal?

Anna stood in a corner, watching the room. She didn't say anything. She didn't move. She just looked at him. If only she could stop thinking about it—if only it had never happened—then she wouldn't feel so small, so insignificant. She was deluding herself. But it was almost over; she just had to hold on a little longer.

That day. That kiss. No, she shouldn't think about it. Anna shook her head as if to get rid of the memory, but the feelings were stuck to her skin.

She looked away and followed the white line of the tables. Such an elegant, distinguished hotel, with all that expensive décor. The paintings were placed with millimeter precision, at just the right distance from each other; the huge lights shone incandescently from the ceilings, and antique furniture dotted small corners and nooks. At the back of the room, a finely tuned orchestra treated all the guests to soft, intimate jazz melodies.

Even with her beautiful dress, shoes, and diamonds hanging from her neck, Anna knew she didn't belong in that environment. The atmosphere felt heavy, constantly reminding her that this was not her place.

The rhythm of the music changed slightly.

Her eyes went straight to Owen, who was dancing with Elena in the middle of the dance floor. They were almost alone; most of the guests just stood watching, with sidelong smiles, downcast eyes, and murmurs. They were very entertained by the main show.

"He's a d*mn jerk," Bob said.

Anna turned slightly and looked Bob in the eye.

"I'm sorry. That b*tch," he said, lowering his voice as if ashamed.

"Don't worry, I understand," Anna assured him. "He still has feelings for her, right?"

"I don't know. I really don't know, Anna. Sometimes I think so, but then he has these moments of rage… Ah. Even I'm confused."

Bob had known Owen since they were kids; they had always been inseparable friends. He felt more like a brother than a soulmate. He had seen him marry Elena; he had seen him become what he was now.

Bob sighed, defeated. He adored him, but sometimes he really wanted to smash something over his head.

"Maybe if I smash a bottle over his head, I'll be able to see if he has any gray matter left," he said under his breath, as if talking to himself.

Anna smiled slightly. She had a knot in her stomach. She knew the backstory and what Elena was trying to achieve. What she didn't understand was what she was doing there, in the middle of it all.

"She blatantly cheated on him. He found her in his own house with her lover! Do you think she cared about Eva? Did she care about his daughter? When Owen kicked her out like a dog and gave her all the money from the divorce settlement, she got on a plane with that guy and disappeared. Owen told me that she didn't even mention the girl or ask about her. And now this? That woman is a witch!"

That's what her friend Lali, Owen's cousin, had told her.

Anna could only imagine all that pain, all that sorrow. And even though she experienced it herself every day, she couldn't comprehend what Owen must have gone through—alone with his little daughter, abandoned and betrayed.

"Get me out on the dance floor," she suddenly said to Bob.

"What?"

"Take me dancing, and I'll get him out of there," she replied with conviction.

"You don't have to do that, Anna."

"I know, but I can't let her do that to him. It's too sad."

Bob considered it for a moment. The young woman had guts. Where had Owen found her? She seemed to know his friend's story and was genuinely concerned about him. Maybe… No, Owen wouldn't allow that; he wouldn't let anyone get close to him. But seeing the determination in Anna's eyes, he offered her his arm with a smile, and they began to walk toward the dance floor.

Owen's eyes were fixed on Anna as she approached on his friend's arm; he hadn't expected to see her like this, so beautiful. But what was she doing? The deal was simple: he needed someone to accompany him—an accessory to enter that hotel with him, to smile a little and behave with decorum—and in return, the lady would receive a five-figure transfer into her bank account.

A more than fair deal for a few hours of "presence."

Bob took Anna by the waist, and they began to move to the beat. Every so often, he exchanged desperate glances with his friend, as if urging him to abandon the spectacle he was putting on. He shook his head, pointing at Anna.

But she had her own ideas.

Anna stopped very close to Owen and Elena. Bob looked at her expectantly, and Owen looked at her with a hint of disdain.

"Owen," Anna said.

Elena looked her up and down. Yes, she was pretty, young, and had a nice dress, but she was nowhere near the kind of woman Elena was. Innate sophistication and elegance, almost supernatural beauty, red lips, and black hair.

"What?" he replied, annoyed.

Anna broke away from her dance partner and put a hand on Owen's shoulder, even though he was still holding Elena by the waist. He could feel the warmth of that small hand through the fabric of his suit.

"Excuse me?" Elena was indignant at the audacity of this brat.

"Sorry, I'm Anna. Nice to meet you. I'm sorry to interrupt, but… I'd like a drink, Owen."

What?

Confusion spread across the face of the tall, somewhat gray-haired man. His eyes widened, and Anna stared at him with an intensity that threw him off balance.

Bob couldn't believe it. He was about to scream with excitement. Just look at that. If she pulled him away from Elena, if she took him away like that, leaving that b*tch alone on the dance floor, he would erect a statue to Anna in a public square.

But Owen was having trouble reacting.

His emotions were all over the place: in his hands, the woman he had loved madly, desperately, devotedly; the same woman who had cheated on him with his partner, screwing around with him in his house and in his bed, a few feet from his daughter's room. On his shoulder, the warm, small hand of that frank and simple young woman, who existed just because, from whom he had stolen a fleeting kiss.

Anna's huge, clear eyes were piercing his soul. For a moment, he felt exposed, vulnerable.

Faced with his idiot friend's hesitation, Bob decided to step forward.

"Elena! Elena, dear! Thank you so much for inviting me! I wanted to say hello earlier, but you're always surrounded by people. Look how beautiful you are after all this time. It's crazy!" He greeted her exaggeratedly, raising his voice a little, wanting to put his body between them.

Anna gave Owen a slight smile and squeezed his shoulder a little tighter, and he released Elena's waist. He turned and followed Anna off the dance floor. Elena wanted to take a few steps toward him, but Bob stood in front of her.

"Don't you dare, b*tch," he said, feigning a huge smile and whispering.

"Bob, Bob," she said, shaking her head. "Do you really think a woman like that is competition for me? Come on."

"I don't know. I don't care. Go back to your hole. Leave and don't come back. Leave him alone."

Leave? Now that she knew firsthand that she still had power over him? Now that he was the CEO? Bob had to be kidding. Of course she wasn't going to leave; she was just getting started.

Anna spent the rest of the night trying to stop Owen whenever it seemed he wanted to dive back into his ex-wife's orbit. She talked to him, asked him questions, got him drinks, and even fixed his scarf. She was sure that woman's dead eyes would be searching for him. Owen just watched her, saying nothing. He answered her curtly and with few words, and yet, just as Elena attracted him, Anna anchored him.

Finally, Owen decided to leave, and Bob let out all the air he had been holding. The three of them left, and Owen opened the car door for Anna.

"I don't know where you found her, Owen, but she saved your skin tonight," Bob said, moving a little closer.

"She's the girl who cleans the company at night," he replied absently.

"What?"

"She's a friend of Lali."

"I have to ask Lali to introduce me to her friends. D*mn it, Owen."

"Don't be ridiculous."

"Well, at least give Anna a raise," his friend joked.

"A raise? You think she came for friendship? She came for money, like all the others." His voice sounded the same as always—cynical.

Bob stood in front of him and put his hand on his shoulder.

"Look, Owen, I know how you feel and how you think. But what that girl did for you tonight—no one does that for money. Just don't make the same mistake again."

He patted Owen a couple of times and left.

Owen got into the car; he still had to take Anna to his apartment to change her clothes and then back to her place.

Owen's cynicism was well-founded, or at least that's what he believed.

S*xy…

With gray eyes…

With brown hair sprinkled with gray…

That was Owen Walker. At forty-three, he was already in the CEO's chair at Plaza & Milne I.T., one of the largest technology services companies in the country. A successful businessman, a tireless warrior for revolutionary ideas and for generating money. His uncle put him in charge of this commercial monster without hesitation, and he was not mistaken: on the wall of his office hung all the covers of specialized magazines that showed him as "the architect of the next digital age."

Brilliant, fierce, with a volatile temper and extremely ambitious, he always gave the impression of being angry. His impassive face and cold stare, as if he were dead, commanded respect and fear among those around him. But behind that tough, successful façade lay a deeply wounded man.

A wound that marked him and shattered all his dreams.