It was deep in the night and Alana, Jake and Pam were still busy showcasing. Pam and Jake in the selling section downstairs, enticing potential buyers about the underground art pieces, while Alana handled the viewing section upstairs. She saw Pam trying to grab her attention from across the gallery. The floors were separated by glass and wooden stairs, so the three partners could often see each other during the night.

From downstairs she could see Pam secretly and hurriedly pointing toward the viewers walking up the wooden stairs to her section.

"What?" Alana mouthed.

"Yummy-guy-in-Armani." Alana was no lip reader, however judging by Pam's swooning facial expression, Alana realised what she was trying to say.

The person whom she was pointing at was the guy she and Jake had mentioned earlier in their conversation. Alana's eyes browsed through people walking up to her section. There were many people tonight and by their posh-ness and attires, Alana guessed these were middle-class, if not upper class. Their expensive gowns and suits with expensive accessories, told her how very formal this event was. If the prices of the art pieces hadn't been a dead giveaway before, these people were.

It wasn't until her eyes landed on him, that Alana knew this was the person whom Pam was talking about. The first thing Alana noticed was his height. He was the tallest one there, his height looming above everyone else in the room. He walked, exuding a remarkable air of superiority, it made one almost feel like bowing down to him.

He had a set of hazel eyes that seemed to twinkle against the shining chandeliers on the ceiling. Although his eyes were dazzling, his expression was hard and intimidating. A thick set of eyebrows curled, almost as if he was angry. He stared down at everyone as if they were nuisance or just ants blocking his path.

His hair was dark brown almost black, wavy and reached his broad shoulders. His skin was tan, sun-kissed, almost olive toned and he wore that Armani suit as if it were second skin. The trousers hugged his thighs, as if they couldn't contain the strong muscles. His white dress shirt underneath his blazer was unbuttoned to reveal his toned chest. And an odd looking neckless with silver straps and a dim red vial pendant.

Alana watched him feeling an odd trembling shocking her core. She swallowed out of impulse and felt his presence all around her, as if it filled out the whole room. And it did. It really did. She wasn't the only one in the room noticing and silently appreciating the looks he was serving.

The whole night, she had walked around this section explaining all the pieces being showcased. Whenever she was free, she would stand next to her piece. Although, she wasn't happy with this painting, she felt proud that it was being showcased in one of the biggest galleries events she had ever curated.

Ever since the man in Armani came into her section, she couldn't concentrate on her job anymore. She watched him in her peripheral vision, he was viewing the owner's collection with such rapt attention.

There was something about this man that somehow felt familiar, she couldn't exactly pinpoint what it was. However, she felt as if she had seen and met him before...somewhere. The fact that her heart was trashing so violently against her chest couldn't just be because she was attracted to him.

"She's very pretty." An old woman broke her reverie. Alana instantly moved to the side—out of the way from her art piece.

"Yes, I suppose she is." Alana spoke distractedly.

The woman's eyes were dazzling blue as they beamed at the painting. "Ah, I love this piece...somehow, looking at it, brings me back to my childhood of discovering fairy tales and falling in love with princesses...she is a princess, right?" The woman asked referring to the subject in the painting.

"She can be interpreted with whatever the viewer wishes...If I were the artist, I suppose I'd want viewers to feel a connection with my painting." Alana said, omitting the fact that she was the artist of the piece.

"What do you connect her with?" The woman asked Alana as she moved her glasses to her eyes.

Alana stared at her painting for the umpteenth time. Before, she had hated this painting despite it being her best seller, however as she looked at it again, she tried seeing it as if it was the first time.

The subject in the painting piece was squatted down in a field of snow. She faced sideways, the focal point on her small hands touching a bloomed pin flower on the ground. Her features were distorted and blurry. You couldn't tell what expression was on her face. Her long silver hair, the colour of the moon crowned around her head and trailed all the way down to the ground. Her dark brown skin flawless and glistening. Shinny golden pearls trailed around her forehead as if marking her royalty. And her silky lilac dress shaped her form.

(I tried to paint this image to my best ability)

"I connect her with the moon goddess." Alana blurted out suddenly and unknowingly.

A shift in the air caused the hairs in skin of her forearm to stand. The scent of white sandal wood suddenly bombarded her nostrils, making her spine tense up. She felt him before she could look to confirm whether it was him.

The man in dark Armani.

He was standing right behind her, his nostrils flaring and his eyebrows deeply contorted as he stared at her painting. Alana watched in fascination the change in the colour of his eyes. From afar they had looked hazel but from this close, a deep golden yellow was flickering around the pupils. It was oddly intriguing, especially since he was exuding slightly anger while staring at the painting before her.

"...Your Moon goddess, is an old woman quite close to retiring...her looks come to nothing compared to this person in the portrait. Frankly, I find it an offence for her to be brought down to just a mere mortal moon goddess." He spoke with such a sultry deep accented voice, Alana felt herself swooning ever so slightly.

Alana tried to cohere what he had just said and couldn't for a life her make sense of the nonsense he had spouted.

"I see no price on it, is it not for sale?" His frowning eyes gazed down at her as he asked.

She gasped. It was one thing to watch those golden hazel eyes glaring at nothing in particular, but, it was something else entirely for those eyes to stare down at her. Alana bit her lip out of impulse and because she was so flustered her cheeks blushed a rose red colour. She felt heated all over.

"Um...I, uh...no, it's not for sale." She stuttered a reply. A first for her since she was usually so professional when it came to her job.

The frown deepened and Alana wondered how many layers deeper his glaring mass could show.

"If not for sale then why is it being showcased?" He accused.

It was this accusation that managed to make Alana feel guilty about something that wasn't in her control.

"I-uh...you must have not read the brochure...t-this part of the gallery is for showcase only not sale." Good Lord, she needed a breather. Was that all she could muster? She was mortified.

"Then what does one have to do to buy it? Name your price." He spoke, determinedly.

She cleared her throat. "It's not my piece to sell anymore...you'd have to speak with the collector to negotiate." She tried to get used to this flustered feeling for her to coherent a sentence.

"Anymore?" He stared down at her and then to the art piece in front of them.

"Are you the artist that painted it?" He seemed shocked. And it was a first for Alana to witness his frown-less expression.

She bit her lower lip, realising she had been caught. How could she get out of this trap? She realised she couldn't hide the truth with him.

"Yes." She replied him, looking away as if in shame.

Because Alana was looking down, she saw his Louboutin's shinny loafers taking a step toward her. As her eyes trailed up his form, she gasped instantly in response of their proximity. The vial necklace on his chest sparkled briefly. A shiny red emanation that caused her eyes to be transfixed for a moment, before it stopped completely—confusing her to wonder if she had imagined it all.

He towered over her and he stepped even closer, as if to close the space between them. A muscle twitched below her stomach and her heart was blazing up a storm in her chest. His eyes were a deep golden hazel that studiously gazed at her as if he were seizing her up and looking into her soul.

"What made you paint it?" He asked her suddenly. And the request almost sounded like a demand, as if she had to answer it or else...

Alana shrugged out of impulse, however it was the intimidating presence that made her fall into a stupor. He was incredibly handsome up close. Breathing in his intoxicating white sandal wood scent and falling deep into those eyes. She felt as if the world was spinning and everyone else becoming a blur but the two of them.

He glared down at her shrugging form. "You are immune to me?" These words were spoken to himself.

"I uh—" Alana was speechless. Immune to him? How could he have come to such conclusion? Couldn't he see how much he affected her?

It took moments of him glaring down at her in askance before he closed his eyes and sighed to himself as he stepped aside toward the painting, releasing her from her trance.

Alana breathed out raggedly, the breath she'd been holding and inhaled deeply to fill out her depraved lungs.

There was definitely something about him that wasn't quite right. Something that felt sort of familiar. Like an old dream she couldn't remember.

Despite his charming physic, her radar and intuition was raising alarms all over her body. Warning her away from the potential danger. The danger that was this man.

Then all of a sudden...

"Alana Walters?" No matter where she goes and whomever she met, she would always remember this voice.

As she twirled around, Alana let out a shocked gasp. It was as if she was staring at a ghost. A ghost from the past. Because standing right in front her, in a gold strapless number—that hugged those curves Alana always envied— was her long lost best friend.

"K-Karla?" Alana's voice rose with a shocked gasp.

"It is you!!" The blonde woman screeched enthusiastically, her six-inch gold Louis Vuitton heels stomping on the floor as she ran toward her.

Alana was instantly embraced into a forceful hug, the scent of roses from Karla's Prada perfume almost out-scenting the white sandal wood scent she'd been invaded with.

"Alana! Gosh, how long has it been?" Karla released her and held Alana's shoulders as if to take a good look at her old friend.

Alana was frozen, the wound of Karla's abandonment slicing through her so deep she felt the tears prickling at the corner of her eyes.

"H-How have you been?" Alana forced out these words, forcing the tears at bay.

There was a slight jolt in Karla's form that made her release her hands off Alana. A twitch on her eyebrows made her hesitate before she could reply her.

"Me?" Karla breathed, laughing awkwardly.

"I've been good. Holland is amazing always."

Alana knew Karla. She's known the girl ever since she was five. She had lived three houses down from her in isle of Mann, practically grew up as sisters. And so, she knew when Karla was feigning enthusiasm and trying to hide something.

"Really?" Alana asked her. The old feelings coming back. She knew at that moment she had never truly cut ties with Karla. Although her friend had practically left her on her own to follow her boyfriend. Alana still cared for her after all these years without contact.

"Really." Karla accented. "What about you? How have you been? How are you here?"

"I've been well...well, after you practically deserted me, I had to fend for myself. I studied at the Royal College of Arts and graduated there two years ago. After that I painted and sold my art and then started a curating business with my friends. Now we just work as curators." Alana explained.

Karla's eyes lit up as she listened to her friend. A genuine proud smile spreading on her face and her eyes started glistening with tears.

"I'm so glad." Karla cried in relief. "I knew you would be successful...you always had a passion for art...Ah, look at me being a mess!" She wiped her falling tears. "But, really, Margret and John would be so proud of you."

"Hey!" Alana felt the tears unleashing themselves in corner of her eyes. "Don't cry, you're making me cry!" She lightly slapped Karla's arm.

"I miss you...so much!" Karla cried more.

Alana instantly hugged her. "You changed your number...I had no way of contacting you, why didn't you contact me?"

"Life, Alana." Was Karla's reply. "Life happens, one minute you're on top of the world and the next...the next, you find yourself in a different country on different soil, too ashamed by your choices to return home. So, what can you do but pull yourself up and try to make it work where you've fallen."

Alana released Karla to study her. Karla was always philosophical whenever she was sentimental. She guessed this reunion was very sentimental to her.

"No matter what happens you always come home." Alana reminded her of their old saying. "You know that I forgave you. You had to live your life and I had to live mine. We had to find ourselves and forge our own paths."

"Still..." Karla wiped her eyes. "Still...I left you and in your worst time. I was selfish and I'm sorry."

"What happened with Finn?" She asked curiously.

Karla flinched from his name being mentioned. "Let's just say we don't talk about Finn."

"I'm sorry." Alana apologised instantly.

"Hey, don't steal my thunder, I'm the one apologising here."

Alana laughed and they both laughed. As if those three years hadn't happened. As if they were back in Mann being careless and free from responsibilities.

"I've missed you too." Alana admitted to her.

They hugged again until...

"Ahem." The throaty interjection belonged to the man in Armani that had left her presence moments ago to study her piece in more detail.

Both Alana and Karla startled from their hug and looked toward him.

"Ah." They both said they same time.

"Karla, this is uh—" Alana had stopped talking promptly, realising that she was still working and the man was practically a stranger to her. Barely acquainted with him, for her to be introducing him to an old friend. She also realised Karla had spoken at the same time with her.

"Alana, this is my boss L—" Karla stopped, she too realising that they had spoken at the same time.

"You know each other?" The man spoke, glaring down at them, a slight confusion infusing in his frown.

Karla nodded. "She's the one I told you about. The friend that is like a sister to me."

Alana didn't know what to make of this slightly awkward situation, awkward on her part because moments ago she had swooned at his good looks, practically melting at his stare. Only now to find out he was the boss of her best friend.

She finally realised what Pam had meant earlier when she had said his secretory felt familiar. Back in their studio office, Alana had two pictures decorating her plain desk. The first picture was of her parents and she, the picture had been taken two months after they had adopted her. The second picture was of her, Karla and their mothers. That picture taken a year, before her mother passed on.

Pam had seen those pictures and asked her about the people in it and Alana had told her the heart-breaking story of her family. Pam saw those pictures daily and maybe why she had felt familiar with Karla when she had first seen her. Because she did know her by that picture.

This meant, Karla was the man in dark Armani's secretary.

"Ah, the artist. Now it makes sense." He nodded as if acknowledging her. "Would you perhaps be able to persuade her to sell her this piece for me." He smiled at Karla.

The first smile she had seen on him the whole night. Alana didn't know why realising he would smile for Karla—his Secretary— would invoke such a strong feeling of envy toward her friend.

She realised it meant he was closer to Karla—as he should—of course, since they were employer and subordinate. However, it was the smile Karla gave him back, that smile she knew so well because she had seen it every time growing up. This smile of Karla meant that she was in love.

Alana didn't know what to make of this new curve ball being thrown her way. Because it was this smile that told her, this man right here was already claimed and she should stop feeling attracted to him.