*Brielle POV

Rrrrrrinnggggggg

The shrill sound of my alarm clock makes me shoot straight out of my deep sleep.

"Ugh," I groan as I turn to look at the time, "6 A.M....ugh why do I do this to myself every morning?"

My morning routine is up at 6 A.M., go for a 5 mile run, grab coffee, shower, eat. I love organization, I thrive when I'm on a strict schedule. That's how I like to live my life.

I jump out of bed, get ready, and throw on a workout outfit.

Plugging in my headphones, the world disappears as I start my run.

Once I'm done with that, I find a cute coffee shop to stop at, grab my morning coffee, and start to walk towards home, music still blasting in my ears.

"Am I original? Yeaaaaahhh. Am I the only one? Yeeeaaahh. Am I sexual? Yeaaahh.." My singing is cut short when I bump into someone, causing my scorching coffee to spill down my bare stomach.

"SON OF A BITCH!" I yell, looking down at the mess.

"WHAT THE HELL, MAN!" I start to say, lifting my head up to see who ran into me.

'Oh shit,' I think to myself as I make eye contact with my mystery man.

Those dark, devilish eyes.

"Umm...." I stammer, intimated by his presence.

"Oh, I am so sorry," he begins. "When I said I would be seeing you again soon, I didn't quite mean giving you third degree burns," mystery man chuckles.

I giggle, "well I was hoping that I wouldn't be singing Backstreet Boys out loud, but yet here we are."

He laughs, causing me to blush and smile broadly. Something tells me making this guy laugh isn't the easiest thing to do.

"How's the job search going?"

"Still nothing...I'm out of jobs to even apply for.." I answer his question.

"Well actually, I own quite a few businesses. I know I could use some help, if you'd like to come interview tomorrow morning."

My mouth drops at his offer, "are you serious?! Oh my god, yes! Thank you!"

He chuckles again. "It's no problem. Here's my card."

I grab the sleek, black card from him, slightly grazing his hand as I do.

The hairs on the back of my neck stand up and I get goosebumps from his touch.

By his reaction, I think he felt the same way.

"Great, see you tomorrow morning at 9A.M. sharp," he instructs.

His driver pulls up and opens the back door for him.

Pausing before he gets in, he turns towards me again. "I'm looking forward to it."

Flashing me a sly grin, he gets in and drives off.

Once he drives off, I glance down at the card. It reads:

Black Ink Enterprises

Lars Moretti

CEO

Excitement washes over me at the thought of seeing him again tomorrow.

'Time to get a manicure, and hair trim.' I think, wanting to look my best tomorrow.

Happily skipping back towards my apartment, I start to practice my interview answers in my head.