Awkward. I never thought that that would be the perfect description to a car ride with Vanessa Carter. After the incessant foot-kicking under the table, the girls finally agreed to ride back with us to the office.

I flinched a little when I tried to stand. I rubbed my leg, and saw that Aaron did the same. I know my reason for kicking his foot was childish, but HE STARTED IT!

When we reached the building and parked at a designated area in the basement, I noticed that Aaron's car wasn't there yet.

He must've taken this opportunity to take Jessica on a date.

Unfortunately for me, I can't do that. Somehow, my senses tell me that Vanessa is completely different from the girls I have hooked up with. Other than that, her presence alone seemed different from the others. Sure, she is extremely beautiful, but there is something else in her. She has this aura around her. She walks the office with such grace, and confidence. She has a carefree personality as she smiles and greets every employee she bumped into.

Other than those, there is this superior aura around her. Being with her, even for just a really short while, is like walking on a land full of mines. I have no idea how to move or act around her.

Now, walking ahead of her feel wrong. I feel like she should be the one leading the way, which is ridiculous. I own half of everything and everyone in here. Why the hell would I feel like she should be the one on the lead?

I tried focusing my mind anywhere except the girl behind me. I snapped my head back in front when my head is starting to turn on its accord just to have a glimpse of her. I have to stop myself from looking because I feel like if I look at her, I wouldn't want to look at anything else. I don't know what's wrong with me. She just became my secretary for half a day, but I felt like pouncing on her like a lion on its prey.

What is wrong with me?

Getting out my trance, I decided never to be alone with this girl in a room; whether it's my office, or elsewhere.

Ding!

I'm screwed

The moment I realized that Vanessa and I will be in the elevator together―alone together, I surmised that I'm screwed.

This is the last place I would want to be in with her.

An elevator ride alone with her is the last thing I should be doing.

I can't really stop her from using the elevator especially when we have the same office floor, and because stopping her from using the lift is just crazy.

Though she never said a word, my hands are disgustingly sweaty. Her scent filled my senses as she filled the whole lift with her overpowering presence. I tried everything not to come close to her, but I did it anyway. I moved slightly near her so we're standing side by side. I tried to focus my eyes, elsewhere as I can practically feel that our arms are just centimeters apart. But unfortunately, my eyes landed on her beautiful reflection on the elevator doors instead.

She really is beautiful, even without make-up. I stared at her reflection and only then did I notice that her mind was elsewhere. At least, I'm not the only one who felt tensed. She was frowning the whole ride, not that I stared at her reflection the whole ride.

Her emerald eyes seemed to have darkened. Her forehead was creased, and her lips were pursed.

Fuck!

Those lips looked so inviting. I wonder what those lips tasted like; strawberry, or cherry?

No!

She doesn't look like she was wearing any lipstick, so maybe her lips were minty, or maybe–

Maybe you have to stop imagining things!

The elevator dinged again, signaling that we have reached our floor.

She went straight to her desk without even sparing me a glance.

I can feel her frustrations as I stared at her before entering my office.

She wasn't like that this morning. She and Jessica seemed to be having a good time when they arrived here. Was it still because of the confrontation earlier?

But thinking back, she looked like she was over it when Aaron and I found them at the café.

Now, what did I do? What did I say?

When she was at the small café, she was conversing with Jessica freely. I have to admit that when we arrived, the gloomy mood in both girls emerged, although, Vanessa still had her smile. What was the last thing I said? I think I just said that we will hold a meeting. Is that it? I also remembered saying that there may be some reporters? Was she afraid to in front of the camera?

Well, that can't be helped. I'm a bachelor, one of the wealthiest and youngest in fact. One of the perks or burden (whatever perspective you take) of being a wealthy businessman is the receiver of the attention―the limelight.

Most girls want attention. They want money and fame. Which is why the many women I have dated became a celebrity for a week until I ended whatever it was. I never dated the same girl twice. All they ever wanted was money and fame. But I guess those girls and I are even, since I only want them for their body and their pretty faces. A conquest as many would call it. And most girls are satisfied with that.

You should know by now that she's not most girls

But why did they look apprehensive when we mentioned the reporters?

Why would a beauty like her be afraid of cameras?

She should be proud. She's beautiful, and based on how she brings herself, she is confident as well. Vanessa walks like she owns the place. Actually, she walks like some sort of royalty.

Royalty... Huh...

Her gracefulness and her attitude are deemed worthy of a princess, a queen. Like I said before, her very essence demand respect. Her confidence is power. She exudes the combination of beauty, intelligence, kindness and confidence. And in my book, those are the perfect qualities of a royalty.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that she's different and that there will always be exceptions. Take my mom for instance.

My mom loved my dad even after he went broke. She never left his side, and always believed in him that he could stand up and regain his pride as a businessman. After the Westwood-Stevens Industries became very successful, my father offered mom the wealth she deserved. The wealth she never really asked for.

There are only three things in life that she wanted. One, she wants dad to give some of his time to her. Two, she wants a child of her own (Ding! Ding! Ding! That's me). Finally, she just wants to have a library of her own.

So far, other than me, the only expensive thing he gave mom was this huge library that occupies almost half of their house. Unlike other girls, my mom would rather spend her entire day getting lost in a book. She would rather stay in the library than go out to shop for some clothes she never wanted or to buy jewels she never really needed.

Yes. My mother is an exception. I can see why dad loved her so much. She is not an ordinary woman nor was she the 'most women'. She is unique.

I want someone like her. Someone who will be satisfied with me even without the money. Someone who will stay by my side no matter what. Dad was so lucky to have met her. She's beautiful. She's simple. She's kind. She's honest. And most of all, she is faithful. It's been 15 years since dad died, yet she still loves him.

I remembered five years after his death, I told her that she should date. That I wouldn't mind if she found another man in her life. That it's okay to have someone other than dad. But she just shook her head and told me that she can't.

"Mom, you're beautiful, and still quite young. You can re-marry if you want."

"But I don't want to." She simply said. "I can't love any other man than your father. He was my other half. When he died, I realized that part of me died with him."

After hearing that, I was even more amazed at my mom. The sadness that lingers in her eyes, whenever she remembers my father was devastating. Whenever I came to visit, I can still see that she misses him even until now. As poetic or as cheesy as this might sound, I want someone to love me like how my mom loves dad.

I want a love like that. Pure and true.

Mom's love was―is pure and true. She's the exception to the women of today's society.

Thinking of Vanessa Carter just outside my office, I wonder if her being different from the others means that she's an exception too.