Episode 4

Renato exited his office and made his way to his apartment. Upon entering his living room, a gigantic mass of slobbering fur approached, reared up on its hind legs, and licked his face.

"Easy, buddy. I missed you too," he said, removing his coat that was now thoroughly ruined by the affectionate onslaught and would need another trip to the dry cleaner's. "Where's Cora?"

The young man proceeded to the kitchen with his loyal companion by his side. On the table, he found a note from his housekeeper informing him that she couldn't tend to the house or Hercules over the weekend as she had to travel to a funeral and would return Monday morning.

"Well, it looks like it's just you and me, pal."

"Arf... arf."

"Quiet, my head is splitting."

Renato remembered the painkiller in his pocket, fetched a glass of water to swallow the pill, then headed to his bedroom and lay down on the bed. He fell asleep instantly, but at 7 p.m., his phone began to ring, waking him up.

"Hello," he answered sleepily and heard the voice of his secretary. "What is it now?"

"Boss, I figured you'd be asleep. Just calling to remind you about your 8 p.m. reservation. You can't be late."

"Helen, what's all that noise?" he asked irritably, overhearing laughter with someone.

"It's a band. My mom hired them for her birthday. They're really good." She sounded truly happy. "Stop it, Simon, that tickles."

"Who are you with?" he asked, a pang of something like jealousy hitting his chest as he sat up in bed. "They're too loud," he complained. "Tell them to knock it off."

"With a friend and sorry, but it's a party."

"Helen…" She didn't let him finish, anticipating something unpleasant from his tone.

"Sorry, boss, I have to hang up." She knew he disliked music, parties—essentially all fun—so she preferred to end the conversation.

An hour later, Renato looked sharp in a custom-tailored charcoal suit, grabbed his Rolls Royce keys, and headed to his meeting with the Germans. Upon arriving at the restaurant, he found the group of men awaiting him at a table, flanked by several ladies. In part, he was relieved his secretary wasn't present; this didn't seem like a business dinner, more of a social gathering.

"Good evening, gentlemen, ladies," he greeted as he sat down across from a brunette who smiled ceaselessly. "I see you've got company."

"Renato, yes, we've invited a couple of friends to help celebrate, and you're welcome to join us at the hotel afterwards for a more private party."

"No thanks, I think I'll just stay for dinner."

"Suit yourself."

The dinner progressed without issue until dessert when Renato excused himself to use the restroom. The brunette couldn't take her eyes off him and followed him out. She was ready to spend some alone time with the attractive man, so she waited behind the door. When Renato emerged, he was taken aback to see the woman leaning against a wall waiting for him with a cigarette in her hand.

"Hello," she said flirtatiously, edging closer to him.

"What do you want? Don't you realize this is the men's room?"

"I want to be with you. I like you," she said, touching his chest, but he grasped her wrist and pulled away.

"Don't touch me. You're not my type."

"How dare you?"

"I dare because you're throwing yourself at someone you barely know."

"Jerk!" she exclaimed, storming back to the table, grabbing her belongings, and dashing out of the restaurant.

Renato returned to his seat as if nothing had happened, and after a while, the Germans bid their farewells one by one, leaving him alone sipping wine. The pill he had taken earlier seemed to be forgotten, and now the room was spinning. He signaled a waiter.

"I don't feel well. Call Helen."

"Right away, sir."

The waiter went to the bar, looked up the secretary's number in the directory, and made the call. Helen was dancing with a friend when her incessantly ringing phone forced her to excuse herself. "Hello?"

"Helen, this is the restaurant. Your boss is unwell and you're the only contact we have."

"I'll be right there."

Helen said goodbye to her mother, who wasn't pleased.

"Honey, it was your night off. That man takes advantage of you and doesn't even pay overtime."

"Mom, he's not well."

"You're too good for him, and he doesn't deserve you."

"I know, Mom. I have to go. Sorry, but I promise I'll be here tomorrow."

"Alright. I love you, dear."

"Love you too, Mom."

She hailed a taxi and headed straight to the restaurant. Her boss was seated alone, staring blankly, and she approached him, annoyed.

"Here I am, boss," she whispered as she reached him. "Let's help you to your car. Give me the keys; you're not fit to drive." She put her arm over his exposed shoulder, sending a shock of electricity through them both.

"Let go of me; I'm waiting for my hideous secretary," he protested, mistaking the silhouette of a beautiful woman in a red, tight, and short dress. "Help! This woman is kidnapping me!"

"Keep quiet, everyone's watching," she whispered back, embarrassed and bending down to avoid the scene.

"Let them look; you're abducting me."

"It's me, you good-for-nothing drunkard who can't go without hurting others," she snapped, unable to believe he couldn't recognize her without her usual office attire and hair up. "Now, walk."

"You're not Helen; you have a nice figure and you look beautiful," he said, attempting a kiss. "I'll pay you a million euros to spend the night with me."

"Never."

"One day you'll be mine."

"Not in a million years. Walk."

"Look, I'm a catch," he said, playing sweetly with his lovestruck eyes.

"Of course. Now hide behind your gorgeous eyes just because you know I love you. But no, I won't fall prey to your charms anymore. I'm done being the fool who cries in the corners just because she looks hideous in the office," she admitted, knowing he'd forget anything said in his current state. "I despise you, now get your handsome self up and let's get out of here."

"Miss, do you need help?" a waiter approached, seeing her struggling.

"I'm fine, thank you, and sorry for the commotion."

"Don't worry, it's the first time Mr. Rinalde is in such a state. In fact, he's had nothing to drink all evening, except that glass of wine."

"It must have been the painkiller."

"I don’t follow."

"It's nothing, I'll take care of it."

Helen had downed a few glasses of cider but was glad to have voiced her true feelings about him. Reaching the car, she managed to get him inside, buckled his seat belt, and then sat behind the wheel, not yet starting the engine.

"Damn, start it before he wakes up and kills me."

"The car only responds to my voice; you're a terrible kidnapper."

"Well, tell it to start, then."

"I won't say 'start' and allow you to kidnap and take advantage of me," Renato declared proudly.

As if by magic, the car started when it picked up the operative word. She glanced at him triumphantly with a wry smile and drove him to his apartment.

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