1. SHIT WHY CAN'T I REMEMBER HIS NAME?

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Sunlight streamed through blinds. Urgh why didn't we shut it? Oh yeah that's right, we were too busy eating each other's faces. Heavy arms were wrapped cosily around me.

Fuck! How do I leave? I slowly began sliding from his grasp. Once I was completely out of his hold, I picked up my clothes strew all across the floor and got dressed. I tied up my hair in a messy bun and adjusted the strapless dress around my boobs before opening the door.

"Going somewhere, Lexi?" his voice startled me.

"Jesus! Ever heard of clearing your throat?" I replied.

"Umm sorry?" he said making it sound more like a question. "Well, I've got to go." I grimaced.

I hated this part. That's why I always left before the guy could wake up. "I was planning to make us some breakfast." He told me.

"Well that's really kind of you...." shit why can't I remember his name! "Jordan." He replied, looking a little disappointed.

"Yeah I knew that." I said, clearly failing to hide my lie. Jordan was standing there only in his shorts, his wash-board abs were clearly on display.

"Yeah umm okay." He said sheepishly as he pushed back a mop of curly brown hair that fell onto his electric blue eyes. Well this is becoming awkward by the minute. I have to get out of here.

"Well it was nice meeting you." I said before opening the door again.

"Lexi! Wait!" Okay now what. I turned around with a fake smile on my face. "yes?"

"I'm new here in NYC. I was wondering if I could have your number." He asked shyly.

"Look, to be honest, you're by far the sweetest and hottest guy I had been with in a long time, but I don't do the whole call the guy/relationship thing. It was just a one-time affair. That's all." I replied honestly and sternly.

"Oh yeah okay. I understand. But I hope we cross paths again."

"Likewise."I smiled, genuinely this time, before waving goodbye. I looked down at my watch. 10am. Fuck! I was going to be extremely late for my 12pm meeting.

I hailed a cab and headed to the bar I was at last night. I gave the valet my ticket. Five minutes later, my 2017 Maserati Levante pulled up in front of me. The valet handed me my keys saying,

"Wow ma'am. That's your drive? she's a real beauty. You must have one rich husband."

Oh no. Big mistake. Why do men feel women cannot be rich on their own? I was a self-made woman, and I am proud of myself for owning one of NYC's largest co-operate law firms. I always believed that a woman should be known by her name only. Not by her husband or anyone else's.

"You see this?" I held out my empty ring finger. "Single and self-made. And that car you see? That's bought by my hard work. Oh, and I own much more than this. Ever heard of Aston Martin DB7."

He widened his eyes in surprise and nodded his head. "I own that was well." I smirked, before stepping on the gas and heading home.

I unlocked the door to my penthouse. "Lexi Hunt!" an unmistakeable voice called out. "What were you doing staying out again?"

"Twenty-seven. I am twenty fucking seven and I own this penthouse. At least now I can live my life the way I want mom." I retorted.

"Don't you dare you that language with me Lexi!" she chastised.

"Good morning to you too." I chuckled and hugged her.

"Honey! You were with another man! Who was it this time?" she pulled away.

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