Centre Spot: Enemies to Lovers Book 4 Read online

  “Hey,” I say in greeting. Not sure how I should regard him. Everyone in Flash Spot relates to one another quite well, but being the big boss’ direct assistant, Collins and I have never had business together; not many publicists have anyway. The first thing anyone would ever notice when meeting Collins is the polished aura emanating from his cool, reserved self, which honestly can make one feel uneasy a lot of times or intimidating for some. What with the blue suit and the straight face he has on today, it’s the “uneasy” for me, and on impulse, I pick up the remote again and deactivate the curtains straight away.

  “Good morning Katie. I’ve been trying to reach you for the past few minutes. I had to come up here to check if you were still in,” he says, pointing to the telephone on the glass desk, his face expressionless.

  “Oh? I didn’t hear it. I’m sorry,” I say in a flurry, using way more hand gestures than necessary.

  “There’s no reason to be. I’ll have maintenance to take care of your phone within the next few minutes. Please bear the inconvenience,” he says, still looking like a blank sheet of paper.

  “It’s okay. I can handle it,” I reply.

  “Thank you,” he says as he turns his attention to the iPad in his hands for a moment.

  “Here,” he says as he hands it over to me. “This is the director’s schedule for the next few days. I have postponed a few important meetings that might be too much for just an agent to handle, so there’s no need to worry,” he says curtly.

  I try to pay attention to the screen in front of me, digesting everything, and not on the fact that he had just referred to me as “just an agent.”

  “If you swipe, you’ll see that I have also left information on a few important names and events to pay close attention to–on the director’s order, of course,” he says.

  “Thank you, Collins,” I say sincerely as I swipe through the device and see that he had neatly and explicitly arranged everything I’ll be needing for me.

  “It’s my job,” he says quietly. “I’ll be right outside your office whenever you need me.”

  I watch as he turns to leave the office, wondering how someone could be so stiff.

  “Huh, Collins?” I call out.

  “Yes, Katie. Is there a problem?” he replies, turning back to face me.

  “Do you know what influenced Dan’s–the director’s decision to choose me, perhaps?” I ask, merely out of curiosity.

  “No. I have no idea,” he replies.

  His reply hit me as brusque, but I decide not to push it.

  “Alright. Thank you. You may leave now,” I say with a smile.

  At least one thing is clear. My new assistant doesn’t like me very much or think I am worthy of having him as an assistant. It’d have been nice to have him as a friend, though. But then again, it’s only for a few days; who says we have to be friends?

  James:

  “Hello Mr. Reed, have a seat,” the doctor says to me as soon as I walk into his office, signaling to a chair.

  “Thank you,” I reply as I settle in across from him.

  “So I’ve thought carefully about all of the options you advised, and I’ve decided that I want to do the surgery,” I say seriously.

  The doctor exhales softly and stares down at his desk first before turning his gaze to me.

  “Frankly, Mr. Reed, I do understand, to a large extent, your reservations concerning the use of medications in relation to your career. But this is your health we’re talking about here. Deep brain stimulation is usually succumbed to as a last resort, and I think it’d be unnecessary in your case. Mind you, this surgery has its own risks too, albeit mild,” he explains gently.

  “Yes, yes. You’ve explained that before, and I appreciate it. But ultimately, it is my body and my decision, isn’t it?” I state flatly.

  “Yes. It is, ultimately. My duty is to advise you as clearly as I can and help you make sure you are making the right decision,” he replies.

  “Believe me, Doc, I know I am making the best decision. Besides, you don’t understand, I have had a rough year–career-wise. Possibly my biggest flop year in history, and now that my comeback is so close, you are advising me to take long-term medication that you yourself explained could contain substances that the football association frowns deeply against–even though I will be taking them for the greater good. Chances are, Cuba could decide to call me back home pretty soon, and then I’d be stuck. I don’t like the sound of having wires passed through my brain either, but I can’t have anything make me get held back again. I need that surgery,” I confess in all seriousness.

  The doctor looks at me and sighs.

  “Here’s what we’re going to do. I’ll give you a few more days to reconsider your decision, after which you’ll have to sign some agreement papers, as is the usual hospital protocol for surgical patients. How does that sound?” he says, smiling softly.

  “Frankly? Like a waste of time. My answer will remain the same, even if you give me a year. I can’t take those meds, Doc,” I say vehemently.

  “See you next week, Mr. Reed. Have a productive weekend,” he says, smiling as he rises from his chair and reaches out to give me a handshake.

  I rise to my feet too and return the gesture as I grudgingly walk out of the office. More appointments mean more time wasted, and time isn’t exactly a factor I can afford to treat so leisurely right now.

  I walk into the large corridor just on my way out and decide to sit for a second and get relief from this tiredness that has suddenly overwhelmed me. I make myself comfortable on the closest bench, and I cradle my head in my palms, suddenly craving company–a hug, a word of encouragement, anything. If Katie were here, perhaps things wouldn’t seem so difficult. But having thought it over and decided that it is best to let her know after the surgery, calling her right now will make no sense.

  As if on cue, my phone rings showing a call from Katie.

  “Hey Sugar, how’s your day going?” she says cheerily.

  “Quite well, I guess. How are you?” I reply calmly, feeling my insides warm up to the sound of her voice.

  “Superb,” she begins in an exciting rush, “Dan is on sick leave, and he put me in charge of the company. It’s just my first day, but I’m starting to feel worn down by the load of responsibilities I will be carrying out. But then, on the bright side, I think I’m enjoying my super cool ad-hoc office and all the attention, emoluments, and even jealousy associated with it, very much. I mean, I have a personal assistant. What could be cooler than that?”

  “I don’t know, say, being a celebrity footballer, perhaps?” I reply teasingly, and she chuckles in response.

  “Okay. Okay. I’ll take that as my cue to shut up, ‘Mr. Celebrity footballer.’ I knew you wouldn’t see the big deal in all of this,” she says sulkily.

  “Oh, no. I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I am happy for you, though, really. It’s just–I don’t see why you are surprised. You’re good at your job. It’s only natural that you get rewarded for your hard work somehow. But then, congratulations,” I say calmly with a small laugh.

  “Thank you,” she drawls. “That’s what you should have said first, silly.”

  “Anyway, to the reason I called,” she begins, taking up a more serious tone now–the proper voice of Katie Campbell, the publicist, “by reason of the slight change in my work system. Clearly, I’ll not be as available as I used to be–as your handler, that is. Personally, I believe you can do quite well on your own now with just periodic supervision, but of course, I am not you, and you have the final say. So, do you want me to assign you another agent? Just for this short while?”

  I turn Katie’s suggestion over in my head only for a moment before concluding that I’m not too fond of the idea. For one, having to work with some new person I have probably never met before and started a new relationship afresh doesn’t sound like something I am psychologically up for right now. And above all, I doubt that anyone would fill correctly as Katie has. More than just my public
ist, she is the woman I love. Besides, there’s the issue of my current health condition, which I have kept hushed up too…

  “James? You there?” Katie calls out from her end of the call.

  “Yes, yes. I am. And no, I don’t want another handler. There’s nothing to handle anyway. Everything has pretty much been ironing itself out, so I guess I’ll just have to go with the periodic supervision option, thank you,” I reply.

  “Sure?” she asks in concern.

  “Yes. I’m sure. I’m not a baby,” I chide fondly.

  “Alright, alright. I’m sorry. Do call me if anything comes up that you need assistance with. Anything at all. Deal?” she says.

  “Yeah. Deal,” I reply as I imagine the look of horror that she will take on if I decide to let her in on my health condition.

  “That didn’t sound, sure enough, James. You know how disastrous hiding important information from your agent can get, right?” she says seriously.

  “Yes, ma’am. I do. I’ll make sure to report my every move,” I reply teasingly.

  “Get out,” she says with a chuckle, “Alright then, I’ve got to go. I’ll talk to you later.”

  “Bye, love,” I whisper before hanging up.

  The awareness of my situation eventually dawn on me afresh as I drop the call, and I return my head to the cradle of my palms.

  “It can be hard, I know,” I hear a female voice say beside me.

  I raise my head to see if the statement was directed at me, and I look up to find a young-looking, brown-haired nurse sitting just beside me on the bench, a bottle of water in hand.

  “Ruth. Ruth Blair,” she says with a smile.

  I acknowledge her introduction with a nod and move to return to my previous position, not in the mood to talk to a random nurse.

  “This is unprofessional, but I was in charge of your files, and I know about your medication dilemma too. And believe me, I know how confusing that can feel. At least I’ve been there. Except in my case, it was vice versa,” she pauses to take a sip from her bottle before continuing.

  “I was in college at the time, and for months, my parents and I kept battling with the doctors to try and see if there was any way out of my condition that wouldn’t require surgery and weeks of rehab as my finals were fast approaching. Eventually, I only got worse as I stopped taking my meds in faith–which was a very foolish decision–and I had to do the surgery, in the end, causing me to lose a year of school in the process. These decisions can be really hard to make, but in the end, it’s best to weigh the pros and cons properly before making any decision. In the end, it’s your life after all,” she ends, smiling brightly as she rises to leave.

  Overwhelmed by her story, I become speechless, and so, once again, I only nod in response.

  “See you around,” she says with a wink as she turns to leave.

  Chapter Three

  Katie:

  “So, what’s been going on with you? You just seemed to disappear these last few days,” I ask Charles enthusiastically.

  He had called earlier today, and our discussion had ended with the both of us agreeing to have a Sunday afternoon hang out as we have barely been speaking for a while, so we had ended up here, in a park.

  “I’m sorry. Really,” he begins with a small laugh. “I’ve just been caught up in quite a number of personal matters, mainly family stuff. George is away from the country, so I have had to ‘fill in’ in a few necessary commitments. I actually just returned from Berlin last night, and I expect that the next few days will be quiet and uneventful, so yes, it’s safe to say I am back now.”

  “Oh, wow. Berlin? I had no idea you were out of the country. How was your trip? I’m guessing you didn’t do any fun stuff, did you?”

  “Yeah. Your guess is so accurate. I find the family business very boring, in fact, but what has to be done has to be done,” he says flatly.

  “I know, right?” I reply in understanding.

  “So enough about my monotonous life. What about you? How have you been?” he asks, resting his beautiful eyes on my face with a cute expression that makes me blush.

  “I’ve been busy too, I guess. There’s been a lot of work to do at the office. Dan is on leave so–” I begin, but he interrupts me.

  “That’s true. I totally forgot. How is he now?” Charles asks, visibly concerned.

  “Who? Dan? You know about his health?” I ask, a little taken aback.

  “Yes, we speak often. He’s a good man. I’m sorry I interrupted you, by the way,” he says.

  “Oh. You talk. The both of you,” I drawl, realization dawning on me.

  “Yes. Although I haven’t heard from him much recently.”

  “Oh,” I say again.

  “Okay. Is there a problem?” Charles asks, chuckling.

  “No. I mean, yes,” I stutter.

  Perhaps the main reason why Dan has chosen me as his temporary fill-in is because of my relationship with Charles Clifford. Perhaps it had nothing to do with my competence whatsoever, after all.

  “Okay? Want to share?” he says when I do not reply on time.

  My mind zooms back–just that moment–to the schedule Collins had handed over to me, and I remember that somewhere in it, I had caught a glimpse of a company fundraiser coming up soon.

  “Ohh,” I say again.

  “Katie?” Charles calls out with a confused expression as he shakes my hand.

  “Yeah, yeah. Sorry,” I apologize, “it’s just that when Dan took his sick leave, he left me in charge of Flash Spot. I thought it was funny at first, but then I managed to convince myself that it was because of my potential, but now, I know why. The special treatment was all because of you, or should I say, my relationship with you.”

  “Ohh, that’s what you were so worried about? You should know it cannot possibly be true,” Dan says with a small laugh.

  “It is! I know it is. It obviously is,” I exclaim sullenly.

  So all of my excitement had been for nothing?

  “Relax, Katie. I run a company too, remember?–a bigger company, yes, but it’s much the same–, and I have met your boss. I know him well enough to know that he wouldn’t make an irrational decision like putting his company in the hands of an amateur just for monetary reasons. Maybe your relationship with me was a contributing factor, but I’m certain it’s not the only reason. You’re smart, Katie. Take credit for it,” Charles says frankly.

  “Hmm,” I reply, still in doubt, and he laughs again.

  “I’ve never seen you make such a cute expression before. You look like a teddy bear,” he says, trying to get me to smile.

  “Oh, shut up,” I reply, trying unsuccessfully to hold back a laugh.

  “So get rid of the self-doubt. No one is undermining your abilities. You do have potential, and you’ve proved it many times. Acknowledge that and know peace,” he says with a bright smile.

  “Thank you,” I say sincerely.

  “Anytime,” he replies sweetly.

  “By the way, there’s this dinner I’ll be attending sometime soon. It’s a family friends’ birthday actually. But the way these events run, it’s usually an avenue for matchmaking and getting updates about other people’s lives, which is why I try my best to avoid them. But this time, my mum has personally requested that I show up, and I couldn’t bring myself to say no to her. I’m guessing her main aim is to flaunt me as an eligible bachelor and hook me up with a daughter of one of her numerous friends. And that’s where you come in,” he says, his expression pretty serious.

  “I need you to come as my date. Don’t worry, I won’t introduce you as anything. Just having you by my side should shoo her away. What do you think? Can you do this for me? I thought of hiring a model for the show, but then I figured it’d be more realistic if I go with someone I’m familiar with,” he explains further.

  I let out a small laugh at how seriously he had analyzed the situation before speaking.

  “Of course, I’m down for it, as long as it’s in m
y free time. It sounds like fun. But you know, maybe your mum is right to want to match you. You are an eligible bachelor,” I say.

  “Of course. And I understand her worry. But I want to find love myself, not through blind dates or matches. That’s a very boring process,” he says matter-of-factly.

  “I understand,” I reply honestly.

  Being of noble blood sure does have its own extras too.

  “So, I’ll have my secretary mail you the invite so you can prepare in advance for the theme and the color code. Thanks a whole lot, Katie,” he says gratefully.

  “You have not had lunch, have you?” he asks suddenly.

  “No, not yet. This is not an attempt at bribery, is it?” I reply.

  “No, of course not. But there is this place we should go to. I found their menu online some time ago, and I think it’s worth trying out, but going alone to taste new recipes doesn’t sound like a good idea. It’s about 45 minutes from here, though, but I think it should be worth it. You up?” he asks, a glint of eagerness in his eyes.

  “Huh. It’s not like you expect me to say no anyway,” I reply.

  “Exactly. So I’ll take that as a yes. So milady, shall we?” he says, holding out his elbow with a smile.

  James:

  I lay on the bed in the large VIP hospital ward for a long time, staring at the white ceiling and feeling very funny in my surgical “costume” while the theatre was being prepared to host the process of my “head opening.” After my last meeting with the doctor, my symptoms had seemed to agree with my surgery decision as they have become worse. Eventually, I had signed the necessary papers, and in a few hours, the whole experience would be over and, within the next few weeks, forgotten.

  “How are you feeling?” I hear Ruth’s voice say before I see her face.

  “Anxious, nervous. I’m not sure,” I confess.

  Despite my insistence to go under the knife, the reality of it all had just begun to dawn on me after I signed the papers.

  “There’s no need to be,” she says as she spreads her shiny-glossed lips into a wide smile. “It’s a pretty simple surgery. It’ll be over in no time.”