I close my eyes. I know I needed to end this now. “If you come any closer, I will hurt you.”

He raises his hands; the tacky, coconut tree covered, white Hawaiian shirt is wet under his arm.

As the door dings open, I immediately walk out of the elevator.

“Have a good night.”

His stride instantly matches mine. “I’m coming with you. I want to give your man a piece of my mind.”

Every day, normal Anise would have thrown a fit and cuss his ass out. Influencer Anise doesn’t make scenes. Especially with one paying like this. If he follows me into the bar, I am calling security on him. My heels click against the marble floor of the hotel. There is a low murmur of voices. I can see the excited faces of guests checking in and receiving their room keys.

As I’m passing near the front desk, my eyes search for security. However, a moment catches the corner of my eye. Four men stand outside the bar. Three of them are in dark suits. Their attention is captivated by a man in a simple, white linen button-down shirt and khaki long pants. His gestures are slow and deliberate, like he doesn’t waste energy in his movements. From this distance, he could be maybe six feet in height.

His dark hair is combed into a low bun. I can only see the back of him, judging by the way the men were gazing upon him, I know he is not one to be messed with.

“See, you don’t recognize that you are in the presence of a high value man. Why are you running?” My elevator stalker prowls behind me. I need to put an end to this now.

I increase my speed to the men.

“Stop the charade. You’re not meeting anyone here,” Mr. High-Value cries out.

As I approach the three men in the group, all reach into their jackets.

“Boss want us to?” the tallest of the men spoke.

My man of mystery shakes his head. He turns around and stares at me.

“Hi, baby, thanks for waiting on me.” I give him the biggest smile. I press my hand onto his forearm, tiptoeing to reach up at his cheek.

No, he is more than six feet. He is the kind of man my sister writes about. Broad shoulders, well-defined muscles. His dark eyebrows push together. His eyes are grey, fringed with long, beautiful eyelashes. His mouth flattens, his bottom lip is pink and juicy. I may not like long hair, but the man standing in front of me with this low bun, a five o'clock shadow and a goatee is my exception. He smells so good, too, like sandalwood blended with something rich and clean.

I’m praying to God that he reads the room and follows my lead. He bends, allowing me to kiss his cheek.

“Gatáki, what’s the problem?” he asks, softly.

My heartbeat is erratic. I turn to glance at Mr. High value and he immediately stops.

“That man followed me off the elevator,” I respond as I point my coffin tip nail to the man that is now my problem.

He drops my hand and stalks toward Mr. High-Value man. He walks around slowly, like a panther on a hunt. Mr. High-Value takes his handkerchief out of his pocket and wipes his forehead.

Stopping behind his ear, my pretend boyfriend leans down.

“Explain to me why you are following my woman out of the elevator?” His voice sounds like smooth, dark whiskey. It’s rich, menacing, and deep, like his voice box is soaked in danger.

“I, uh, I—” Mr. High-Value stumbles with words. His knees quiver like they want to buckle.

“Baby, he wanted to talk about you letting me come down here by myself. Go ahead, tell him.” I want to jump for joy.

My pretend boyfriend still hovers near High-Value’s ear. “Do you have something to tell me?”

Instantly, High-Value begins to shake his head, and his bottom lip trembles. “Oh, no, sir.”

“Apologize to my woman…now.” His dark grey stormy eyes meet mine.

The way he saysmy woman, my pussy clenches. I almost believe him.

My stomach tightens, like I’ve stepped into a lion’s den. I think I’m falling for my pretending boyfriend.