Chapter 4 The Morning After

~~SERAPHINE~~

I woke up to sunlight streaming through the windows and an empty bed.

For a moment, I thought maybe I had dreamed it all. But my body told a different story.

I was deliciously sore in all the right places, and the sheets still smelled like his cologne, something expensive and woodsy.

The night came flooding back in vivid detail. Andrew's hands, his mouth, the way he made me feel things I didn't know were possible.

Raymond had always been quick, efficient, like he was checking off a box. But Andrew... Andrew had worshipped every inch of me. He took his time, learning what made me gasp, what made me moan, what made me beg.

He gave me more pleasure in one night than I'd had in three years with Raymond.

I stretched, feeling languid and satisfied, then noticed a note on the pillow beside me.

"Seraphine, I had to leave early for a meeting. You looked too peaceful to wake. Last night was very incredible. I'll call you. - Andrew P.S. Order room service breakfast on me. You earned it."

I smiled at the note, then realized something was missing. He said he'd call, but he didn't have my number.

Quickly, I got the hotel stationary and wrote down my phone number, leaving it on the table where he'd be sure to see it when he came back for his things. His suitcase was still in the living room, so he had to come back.

I took a long shower, smiling as I remembered Andrew pinning me against the shower wall at 3 AM, both of us insatiable. The hot water soothed my muscles, and I felt like a completely different person from the girl who had arrived in Seattle yesterday.

After ordering an expensive breakfast that I definitely wouldn't have splurged on myself, I got dressed and decided to explore the city. My phone stayed silent, but it was still early.

Andrew said he had a meeting and would call later. However, days flew by like flies. Then a week. Then two.

The hotel had sorted out the booking error the day after, giving me a new room and a discount for the inconvenience. But I found myself walking past room 512 whenever I was on that floor, hoping maybe I'd run into Andrew again. His suitcase had been gone when I returned that first afternoon.

By the time I flew back home, I'd accepted the truth. Andrew wasn't going to call.

Maybe he'd never seen the note with my number. Maybe he was married and the business trip story was a cover. Maybe one-night stands were just normal for him, and I was naive to think it meant something.

At least I had the memory. One perfect night where I felt desired, cherished and wanted. It was more than Raymond had ever given me.

Back home, reality hit hard. My apartment felt smaller and emptier. My phone had several messages from mutual friends asking about the Raymond situation.

Apparently, he and Olivia had already gone public with their relationship, spinning some story about how love just happens and they couldn't fight their mate bond.

The worst part was trying to find a job. I sent out dozens of resumes, but kept getting rejected. It wasn't until a kind HR manager at a small firm pulled me aside after a rejection that I learned the truth.

"Off the record," she whispered, "Raymond's father has been calling companies, saying you're difficult to work with, that you caused drama in their pack business. I'm sorry, honey, but no one wants to cross the Beta's family."

I sat in my car afterward and cried. Not just small tears, but body-shaking sobs. Everything I'd worked for, my degree, my career plans, all of it was being destroyed because I dared to walk away from Raymond instead of being grateful for his attention.

~~~

Three weeks after Seattle, I was down to my last few hundred dollars. Rent was due soon, and I'd applied everywhere, fast food places, even for cleaning jobs.

But Raymond's father's reach was long, his influence poisoning every opportunity.

Then I saw it. A job posting for Smithwood Industries, a huge company with offices downtown. Junior Business Analyst position, exactly what I'd trained for.

The company was known for being ruthlessly merit-based, not caring about pack politics. Maybe they wouldn't care about whatever lies Raymond's father was spreading.

I spent all night perfecting my application, tailoring my resume, and writing the perfect cover letter. I sent it off with a prayer to the Moon Goddess if she were listening.

Three days later, I got a call for an interview.

The Smithwood Industries building was intimidating, all glass and steel reaching toward the sky.

The lobby was modern and cold, efficient like everything else about the company. I checked in at reception and was directed to the fifteenth floor.

The interview went better than I could have hoped. The panel of three managers seemed impressed with my answers, my knowledge, my passion for business analytics. For the first time in weeks, I felt like myself again. Smart, capable, worthy of respect.

"We'll be in touch within a few days," the lead interviewer affirmed, shaking my hand.

I left feeling hopeful. Maybe things were finally turning around. Maybe I could build a life without Raymond, without his father's influence or needing anyone's approval.

The call came two days later that I got the job.

I started Monday morning, arriving early to make a good impression. The HR representative met me in the lobby, giving me my badge and explaining the basics.

We took the elevator to the twentieth floor, the executive level.

"You'll be working directly under the CEO's team," she explained. "It's a huge opportunity. Mr. Smithwood personally reviewed your application and insisted you be placed here."

My stomach fluttered with nerves. The CEO personally reviewed my application? That was unusual for a junior position.

"He's actually in today, which is rare. He travels a lot. Let me introduce you."

She led me down a hallway lined with expensive art to a corner office. The door was open, and I could see a tall figure standing with his back to us, looking out at the city view, talking on the phone.

"Mr. Smithwood?" the HR rep called softly. "I have our new analyst, Seraphine Johnson."

The man turned around, and my world… literally stopped.

It was Andrew.

But his expression wasn't the warm, passionate look I remembered. His blue eyes were cold, professional, showing no sign of recognition.

He ended his phone call and walked over, extending his hand like we were complete strangers.

"Miss Johnson. Welcome to Smithwood Industries.”