Chapter 5
At the end of the third month.
Company mid-year party.
It was held at the city's most iconic hotel.
I showed up in a custom gray suit Tom had helped me pick out, paired with a deep blue tie.
Tom circled me, gave a nod. "Now you look the part. That washed-out loser from three months ago? Dead and buried."
I rolled my eyes. "Can't you say something nice for once?"
"Just keeping it real," he said, tugging at my tie. "There are a ton of big shots from the investment world here tonight. Mingle, and try not to just sip juice all night."
"What's your problem with juice? Is it really that big a deal?" I shot back.
"I'm disowning you as a friend if you keep drinking juice," he said.
The party was next-level extravagant.
They booked out the entire 27th floor of the hotel.
Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, the gulf shimmered in the night, city lights and stars melting together.
Just to shut Tom up, I gave in and grabbed a glass of champagne, weaving through the crowd.
My boss walked me over to meet some big shots.
Language wasn't an issue, so chatting with everyone was no problem.
A rich kid got super interested in my energy report and said right then he wanted to invest another 7 million dollars.
My boss clapped me on the shoulder, beaming. "Alex, you're my lucky star."
For a second, it felt like I was dreaming.
Three months ago, I was squatting outside my apartment building, clutching two bottles of poison, wondering how to end it all.
Now, I was standing in one of the world's most luxurious hotels, being called a lucky star by a billionaire.
Life was just so damn surreal.
The party was halfway through, and I was starting to feel worn out.
No matter how hard I tried to put on a front, socializing always drained me.
With my drink in hand, I slipped out to a quiet balcony in the corner to get some air.
The sea breeze from the gulf was hot and salty.
I leaned against the railing, just zoning out, letting my thoughts drift away.
"Are you alone?"
A woman's voice came from behind me.
She spoke in Huagardian.
I turned around.
A woman stood at the balcony entrance, holding a glass of champagne.
She had long hair, wore a dress that showed off her collarbones, and her features were delicate. She had a cold, distant vibe.
She hadn't been one of those Instagram-filtered types. Her beauty was real, the kind that couldn’t be faked, all in her bone structure.
She looked to be around thirty.
"Yeah," I said, turning my gaze back to the sea.
She walked over and leaned against the railing next to me.
"Are you with Al-Rashid?" she asked.
"How did you know?" I replied.
"You still have your name tag on," she said.
I glanced down and sure enough, it was still there.
The front desk slapped a guest badge on me when I walked in, with the company logo and my name printed right on it.
"Oh," I said, pulling it off and stuffing it into my pocket.
She let out a soft laugh.
"I'm Sophia Lane, head of Summit Equity Group's Doobaie office," she said.
Summit Equity Group.
One of the top private equity firms back home, managing over 30 billion dollars.
She was the head of the Doobaie office?
I gave her another look, suddenly seeing her in a new light.
To be in that position at her age, that was no small feat.
"Alex Carter," I said, keeping it brief.
"I know you," Sophia said, taking a sip of her champagne. "I read your energy sector report last month. Impressive work. You really had a unique perspective."
"Thanks," I replied.
"I'm not just being polite," Sophia said, turning to face me. "I want to talk business with you."
"Now?" I asked.
"Got plans, or are you free?" she shot back.
I looked down at my glass.
"Nope," I said.
"Then let's do it now," she said.
She didn't mince words, just got straight to the point.
Her gaze was direct, no flirting, no hidden agenda, just pure business interest.
Honestly, it was kind of refreshing.
"Go ahead," I said.
She started talking about an investment opportunity in a renewable energy project.
It was a large-scale project, the kind that would need several firms teaming up to pull it off.
She had her eye on our company's resources, and my knack for analysis.
We talked for about twenty minutes and swapped contact info.
As she was leaving, she said, "Alex, you don't seem like someone who's only been in Doobaie for three months."
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"You don't have that anxious vibe most newbies have. You're calm, grounded," she said.
I smiled. "Maybe it's because all the things that used to stress me out are still back home."
She didn't press for more.
She just nodded. "Let's have a working lunch next Monday and discuss the specifics."
"Sounds good," I said.
She walked away.
Tom popped up out of nowhere, grinning like a kid up to no good. "I saw the whole thing! That gorgeous woman came over to chat you up! Don't tell me you went with your famous juice refill line again?"
"Man, we were just talking business," I said.
"Business? You two were out on the balcony for twenty minutes, just shooting the breeze? If that's what counts as business, then I must be a business expert," Tom joked.
"Tom," I said.
"Huh?" he replied.
"Can you be serious for once?" I said.
"I am serious! I'm just worried about you! Look at you, three months in Doobaie and you're living like some kind of hermit. You're only thirty-two, not seventy-two!" Tom said.
I just ignored him.
But honestly, that night after I got back to my apartment, showered, and lay in bed, I found myself thinking about Sophia.
Not like that, not in a romantic way.
I was just thinking, damn, women like her really did exist.
She was straight to the point, her gaze was sharp and honest, all business, and when she left, she didn't waste any time.
She was nothing like Emily.
Emily always had that mysterious, teasing look, like she wanted you to guess what she was really thinking.
The kind of gentle sweetness that made you feel cherished.
But what did it really mean in the end?
Turned out, all that sweetness was just hiding five years of lies.
Enough, I no longer wanted to dwell on it.
I rolled over and closed my eyes, letting sleep take over.