Chapter 2

                                    

                                          
I was jolted awake by a loud knock that made me think someone was going to break down the door out of anger. I nearly fell off the sofa where I had been lying down. I didn't even bother to wonder about my position as I woke up. My left leg dangled over the armrest, and my right arm hung limply to the floor.
I staggered towards the door. My head hurt badly, and I felt dizzy. I still felt somewhat intoxicated. I had only slept a few hours after partying all night with Samantha. We had spent hours in a motel having fun using our bodies. By the time I got home, it was already 3 in the morning, so my head still hurt a lot.
And who was knocking on the door? They didn't ring the doorbell at the gate, so I knew the guard had let them in; he probably knew them. I opened the door, thinking it might be Pres or Ivy, but it wasn't.
In front of me stood a man with a furrowed brow, looking at me. His expression changed as if he smelled something unpleasant.
But my eyes widened even more when I realized who was he. "You!" I pointed at him. He was the guy from the elevator. The annoying, strict-looking one. He slightly recoiled, moving away from me.
After a moment, he sighed. "Good morning. I am your new manager, Aiden," he introduced himself, surprising me.
"What?!"
"I will also be staying in your house to cater to your needs," he continued, ignoring my reaction. "Now, if you'll excuse me. Could you step aside, please? These bags are quite heavy."
I quickly glanced at his hands. He was holding two large plastic bags clearly filled with groceries. Beside them was a small... suitcase?
Suitcase?!
"Are you going to live here?" I blurted out, surprised. He furrowed his brow again, clearly annoyed, before nodding.
 "Yes."
"And why?!" I raised an eyebrow, asking. 
"You should ask the President," he said dismissively.
In the end, I let him into my house, despite my reluctance. I immediately called Pres, but my spirits sank even further when I heard what she said.
"How was it? Do you like your new manager? I chose him very carefully. He's one of the best at handling talent like you. He's very competent---"
I felt like my whole world could crumble at any moment.
"Didn't I tell you, Pres? I don't want a male manager."
The other end of the line went silent before she responded angrily.
"What do you want me to do? Let you make the same mistake again? My God, Geann, you almost got one of your managers pregnant." Pres, whose full name is Morie Heidelberg but prefers to be called Pres, spoke with frustration and exhaustion.
I pressed my lips together. It was true, but I said, "I promise I'll be careful next time."
"Careful? What's the use of that? Just the other day, there was a scandal at the agency with a woman claiming the child she's carrying is yours! This happened because of your reputation. No! I won't trust you this time," she firmly said.
"Pres!"
Before I could express my grievances, she ended the call. I sank into the sofa, feeling dizzy from the information, and looked at the man.
"Aiden, right?" I asked. His gaze pierced through me as if my existence was a sore to his eyes.
"Yes."
"Fine. I'll let you be my manager," I said.
"As if you had a choice," he replied bluntly.
I pressed my lips tightly, not wanting to argue because my head hurt too much.