Hazel

"Late!" I yelled as I waved my hand at the elevator whose doors were sliding to close. I had meant to say "wait" but my vocabulary seems to always reset to elementary level when I'm flustered or rushed. Who cares?

I had to get to the rooftop within five minutes. It was already impossible since that was fifty floors up and there was only one elevator speed at Emerald Hotel—slower than shit. If I had to wait for another one, it would probably take me half an hour just waiting for it to reach the lobby.

I was relieved when the occupant stuck out a hand between the doors and they bounced back open and remained that way until I got in.

"Thank you." I whispered through a sigh of relief and settled to one corner of the car. The man didn't say a word but I felt his gaze on me. I knew from instinct that I was being glared at so I looked up. I swallowed when I met a pair of emerald eyes that belonged on the cover of a beauty magazine. I was almost jealous. How could a man have such beautiful eyes? It was even less fair that the beautiful, blue eyes belonged to a sculpted face this handsome. But my instinct told me that gawking should be the last thing on my mind. The adonis was glaring at me as if he wanted to murder me. Did I bump into him on my way into the elevator? He couldn't be a germaphobe, right? Urgh. Please don’t let it be one of those. The last thing I wanted was drama about having to pay for dry cleaning because I accidentally brushed against a ridiculously expensive suit.

I forced a smile and attempted to make small talk to ease the awkwardness. "So slow, huh. It should be a crime to construct a hotel as beautiful and tall as Emerald Hotel and install such slow elevators."

His response was to narrow his eyes at me. Jeez, that should be a crime too. My heart must have skipped a few beats because I could feel my forehead breaking out in cold sweat and knew that my chest was heaving without having to check.

"Are you going to pretend that you don't know me?" His eyes flared.

"Excuse my bluntness. Am I supposed to know you? Am I riding the same elevator as some country's president that I didn't know of?" I. Wanted. To. chop. My. Damned. Tongue. Off. I should know better than to say a word under such circumstances but no, I didn't. I just had to fire off the most inappropriate words. Great. Now the adonis was looking at me like I had murdered his mother.

I swallowed and tried to take a step back, only to realize that I was already plastered against the wall. I wished the elevator was a bit faster. Just a little bit. At least fast enough to get me out of this awkwardness. With the shitty luck I'd been riding on lately, there was no use wishing—it would never happen. My words stuck in my throat when I realized who I was riding the same elevator in. How the hell could I not have recognized him? I needed to have my eyes checked. Perhaps selective vision failure and constant lapse in sanity were correlated and had a cure. How could I not recognize Henry Wyatt?!

As my luck would have it, he was the CEO of one of Europe's wealthiest conglomerates and this hotel—whose elevator I had just shit talked to him about being too slow—belonged to him.

I had pissed him off already so I did what I should have done ten minutes ago. I zipped my mouth shut.

That didn't get him to stop glaring at me, though. I would be dead if eyes could literally glare daggers. The elevator car was spacious enough to comfortably hold fifteen adults at a time but it suddenly felt too small with just the two of us and the air couldn't be any more stifling.

I plucked whatever was left of my courage and turned to face him. "Did I do something wrong? Piss in your cheerios this morning, perhaps?"

Urgh. I should cut off my tongue already.

The next events were too fast for me to process. He closed in on me and grabbed my wrist, yanking so hard that my purse dropped out of my hands. It burst open and I knew that at least one thing was broken. My iPad! My heart leapt to my throat.

"What the fuck?" My voice pitched as I glared at him.

"Yes. What the fuck? I should be asking you that!" He roared, letting out what sounded like the anger he had been holding for at least a few weeks.

"I don't know what you think I did but let go of me. I will have you pay for my ipad if it is broken, just so you know." I huffed and pulled my hand out of his grip. Gathering the long skirt of my gown between my thighs, I crouched to gather Whatever I could. My makeup and brushes had spilled out of my purse. I grabbed them and shoved them back in before glancing at a burgundy lipstick tube near his foot. The asshole was not offering me any help when it was his fault. My chest was hot with fury. If that wasn't my favorite Lipstick and one I needed so badly tonight, I would have ditched it to avoid being at his feet.

I was running late for the banquet and didn't have time to do my makeup so I shoved it into my purse. I would have done it in the cab on my way here but the cab driver was a creeper so I only had one chance left—doing it in the bathroom.

There was no way I was going to have a face full of makeup but no lipstick. I gritted my teeth and spoke. "My lipstick is at your feet."

The asshole ignored me for a while and I tried not to grind my teeth. I opened my mouth to scold him but didn't have to; he kicked the lipstick away from him. It rolled to the corner and I glared at him. "Go back to kindergarten and learn some manners. Your teacher must have forgotten to teach you basic courtesy."

I picked it along with the last of my belongings but my arm was yanked before I could close it.

"What the fuck!" I cursed when my back hit the elevator wall from the impact.

Our eyes met and he looked like he was going to strangle me.

"How long are you going to pretend, Sabrina?!" He roared.

I raised an eyebrow and pushed against his chest. "So that's what this is about. I'm being yelled at for something another woman did." I smiled awkwardly. "You are mistaken, Mr. Wyatt. I'm not Sabrina."

His glare deepened and his lips trembled. He clenched his fist and I shut my eyes. I heard a thud beside my ear where his fist must have landed and I cautiously opened my eyes. I needed to get the hell out of here.

"Are you having fun making a monkey out of me, Sabrina?" He emphasized on the name he had called me, which was not my name.

There had to be a thin line between hallucination and insanity, and this man was definitely riding on insanity.

My hands flew to my hips as I enunciated every word, trying to sound intimidating. "I am not Sabrina. If that is your way of asking for my name, knock it off. It's lame and outdated."