."I'm so sorry!" I blurted out, bending to pick up the snack bar I'd dropped. I had bumped into someone while lost in thought. But as I looked up, a strange chill ran through my body — sudden, sharp, and unexplainable. Goosebumps crawled across my arms like a silent alarm.
He was speaking to another man, tall and composed. He wore dark sunglasses, and even though I couldn't see his eyes, his entire presence radiated power. His build was strong, confident. He looked like he was in his early twenties — maybe 24 — and rich. Not just comfortable, but wealthy.
I turned away quickly and headed inside.
"You're here early today, April!" Eric, my supervisor, greeted me with a smile.
"Yes," I said, my voice soft. "Can you assign me more rooms today?"
"Why, sweetheart? You need extra cash?"
I shook my head, then nodded. "I need to save more for college."
Before he could respond, we were interrupted by a striking man entering the office. Eric stood up instantly. "Sir!" he greeted respectfully.
I took a step back, curious who this man was to demand that kind of presence.
"Excuse me," I mumbled and turned away.
"Wait," the man said. I froze, surprised. "Hi, I'm Fred," he said, extending his hand.
"April…" I responded, confused.
"Nice name," he smiled. "Can I have a few minutes of your time?"
I glanced at Eric, unsure.
"I'm sorry," I said politely, "I'm working."
"She's just a part-timer here," Eric chimed in quickly.
Fred nodded. "Alright, then call me when you're done." He handed me a business card.
Blake's Entertainment.
I read the name in my head and blinked.
"Yes, please do," he said, smirking before walking away.
I wrinkled my nose. Eww.
"Aren't you gonna call him?" Eric asked.
"Why would I? He's way too old!" I replied flatly.
"That's Enzo Blake's manager, April! The billionaire! He's here for tonight's concert!" Eric was practically shouting.
"Enzo Blake?" I paused, remembering how June had mentioned him before.
"Yes, dummy!" he grinned, slipping the card back into my pocket. "And he's staying here — in our hotel!"
"Doesn't matter," I muttered. "I'm not chasing some sugar daddy."
But even as I walked away to begin my shift, I couldn't stop thinking about the man in the sunglasses. Something about that encounter felt… familiar. Like I had crossed paths with him before.
I shook the thought away and focused on my cleaning — I had bills to worry about.
By the end of the day, I was too tired to even consider calling Fred. Still, I found myself staring at his card once I got home, wondering if ignoring it had been a mistake.
June was already excitedly laying out the dresses for tonight's party.
She pulled out a gorgeous blue shimmery dress and handed it to me with a big grin. "You're not backing out on me, April — you're coming!"
I sat in front of the mirror while she examined my face. "You've never worn makeup before, have you?"
I laughed. "Of course I have."
She attempted to do my makeup, but the result had us both cracking up. I wiped it off and did it myself — perfectly. June's jaw dropped.
"Wow, April! You're a pro!" she gushed, making me redo hers too. That made me smile. It had been a long time since I felt this kind of joy.
While we were getting dressed, I told her about Fred — and how he approached me.
"You're making this up!" she accused playfully.
"I'm not!" I insisted. "He gave me his business card and everything."
She stared at me, wide-eyed. "I don't believe you!"
The party was set to start at 7 p.m. We arrived by 6:30, early enough for June to secure her front-row spot — she was determined to see her celebrity crush up close.
As we neared the entrance of the concert venue, a towering security guard stepped forward, arms crossed.
"Tickets, please," he said firmly.
"Are we supposed to have tickets?" I whispered.
"Uh… we must've left them in the car," June said quickly, rummaging through her purse. I blinked at her. What car? She nudged me sharply — her silent signal to play along.
The guard raised an eyebrow. "Sorry, ladies. No ticket, no entry. It's sold out tonight."
I stepped forward, my voice soft but earnest. "Please, sir? We've been waiting for this concert for weeks. We're not trying to scam you. Isn't there anything you can do?"
He sighed. "Wish I could help, but it's not up to me. Rules are rules."
June tried a different approach. "If we must, we'll buy tickets from the scalpers — but we'd rather support the venue. Could you maybe ask your manager if they can help us?"
At the mention of manager, something clicked. Fred! "Actually, I know Enzo Blake's manager. Fred. Could you call him out for us?" I said, my voice a little too hopeful.
June stared at me like I'd grown wings. The guard gave me a skeptical look.
"Here — I have his business card!" I fished it out and handed it over. June snatched it from my hand, jaw dropping. "Wait, this is real?" she gasped. "April, I thought you were joking!"
The guard glanced at the card and raised an unimpressed brow. "Well, maybe you should call him. I don't have the clearance to just let you in."
June didn't hesitate. She grabbed the card, dialed the number, and put the phone on speaker. "Hi Fred? You gave my friend your card this morning. We're here at the concert, but we don't have tickets. Could you… rescue us?"
I cringed. So direct.
To my surprise, Fred chuckled. "Give me five minutes."
June squealed and clutched my hand. "Told you this night was meant to be!"
Fred found us quickly, ushering us inside. "So, you're the girl I gave my card to," he said, smirking at me.
I nodded, a bit shy. "I meant to call, but I… forgot."
"No worries," he said easily. "Do you mind if I borrow her for a minute?" he asked, looking at June.
I gave her a please say no look. She grinned. "Not at all!"
And just like that, I was being led away.