Tomatina was closed to the general public; lunch hours were closed long ago. Of course, being Aiden Steele opens a lot of doors for you, including doors to the kitchens of Tomatina, where Aiden stood talking to the head chef about his work and passions.

I stayed silent after being introduced, just watching how freely Aiden spoke and how easily he was able to make anyone comfortable.

"Well, money's tight, but it's just how the restaurant business is. You've gotta put in years before something turns right." Max, the chef told Aiden. Aiden flashed a smile, and it seemed as if that smile would have been enough to win a couple of battles in one go, "It'll get better soon, you know it."

Max nodded, taking Aiden's hand in a warm gesture, before taking us to what he called were the best seats. He took it upon himself to decide the menu for our meals, checking if we had any allergies. I shook my head, and Aiden listed cilantro as one of his allergies.

Cilantro, really? It was probably a matter of tastes and preferences. When I was younger, I absolutely hated the textures of mushrooms, so I spent all my time explaining to people that I was indeed allergic to mushrooms and I should never be in the vicinity of one.

Maybe Aiden Steele was just a little like me too.

Or maybe he was just fucking allergic to cilantro, you fool.

While the food was being prepared, Max had left us with a bowl of tortilla chips and guacamole, which I decided to dig into, fuck the manners. I was starving at this point, and everyone loved guacamole, right?

Aiden took a sip of his water before bringing up contracts again, and I almost sunk in my seat. Did he ever get tired of all this at all? Soon enough, if life went according to plan, this would be my life as well. Maybe even worse, since I was building something from the ground up. Businesses were a lot more about mental exhaustion over physical, and I had been losing my edge slowly. I needed to get back into this before I'm declared hopeless.

"I couldn't come up with any reason why I could bring you to work for me except hiring you as an intern," he said finally, "which doesn't make sense personally seeing as you're overqualified for this role. A year at B-school puts you ahead of most entry-level jobs here, much less an interning role."

"What do you have in mind?"

"What makes you think I have something in mind?"

"You have a contract written out in front of you. Clearly, you came up with some explanation. I still don't understand why you can't just tell people you're mentoring me, I mean, what's wrong with that?"

Aiden sighed, closing the folder, "Alright, here's the thing. The COO of Steele Insurance came to me a few weeks ago. His daughter had a business idea too, and he asked me if I would mentor her. I said no, partly because the proposal did not excite me but partly because it just felt like an elaborate scheme to reel me in, you know, for something else. I don't know how to explain this to him without making it awkward. He's good at his job, so I can't really lose him either, which is why we need a separate reason to have you here."

"So, you made me sign an NDA just so you wouldn't upset your COO?"

"No, that's a different reason." His tone was clipped and I realized he would never tell me the real reason we're keeping this under wraps. Strange fucker.

"That's shady," I pointed. He offered no explanation. Right, of course, you don't need to offer any explanations when you're holding all the power.

Our food came out just then, tacos and tamales and tortilla soup, making my eyes tear up at the luxury of it all. I hadn't had something this grand in years. The closest I had come to having a three-course meal was a McDonald's meal with a McFlurry on my birthday last year, and I fully intended to celebrate every birthday forevermore the same way. Best birthday ever.

While Aiden was delicate in his approach to food, I ate like an absolute monster as far as my memory went. It was like seeing all that food activated all the cells in my body that had been dying or dormant due to hunger, currently reactivated and brought back to life by the heavenly smell of delicious meat. Strangely, I even felt my stomach bloat, a sign that I should most definitely stop before all the food came rushing back.

Now that I think about it, the last taco had definitely not been a good idea.

If Aiden was appalled or had any inclination to run for the hills, he didn't show. He had an impassive expression on his face, which I was quickly realizing came on whenever he didn't want his true feelings to show. Great, now he was even embarrassed by me. As if I needed more reasons to disappoint him. He wiped his mouth using some tissues before bringing up the contract again.

I didn't contest him, ready to hear what I was getting into completely.

If the food felt like it was too much, the contract was worse. And by worse, I meant really worse. I waited for him to finish talking before launching into my list of issues, starting with the fact that he wanted me to change houses.

"You do realize how renting goes here, right?"

"I work from home on some days and sometimes when it gets late at night, I carry stuff home so I can finish it all before the next morning. Unless you want to travel from my place to yours at 4 in the morning and risk your life, I'd say moving in the house next door is a reasonable idea."

"Look, I'll be honest, I'm pretty sure I can't afford the rent you're living on..."

"I own the building; you don't have to pay rent for 4 months, after which I'm sure you'll be able to afford it." He paused, before adding, "If you decide to continue living there, that is."

Damn it, how do I argue my way out of this? And how do rich people have automatic and outrageous solutions to basically everything?

"And what about the extra things that you're adding on top of it? Wouldn't that be a misuse of the company's money?"

"It's my personal money, I wouldn't put in company money to get you a suitable wardrobe and prepare you for high profile clients."

"Why would you waste your money on this?"

"It's not wasting, Thea. It's investing. You know the difference clothes make; I don't have to tell you this." Truly, he didn't. Appearance did make a man.

"Now you're lucky your face looks fine as it is, but I'll still get you in touch with some people to polish it."

Of course, while my brain was continuing to get offended by his words, my heart just went, "Oh look, he called you nearly perfect!" Certainly, keeping this job was going to be a harder task than I imagined. If I could get my love-starved ass under check, that would be great. I wish I was the type of person to be okay with one-night stands. But my parents had made me such an old school romantic, I couldn't.

"Thea?"

Oh shit, I'd missed out on what he was saying.

"I was asking if Saturday would be a reasonable deadline for you to move your belongings? You can start work on Monday."

"I'd still like to cancel the car. I don't drive," I pointed out, compelled to explain further, "Like, I never learnt how to drive and I have no interest in learning either."

He pursed his lips, "How do you plan on going to work?"

"I'll figure out the routes by tomorrow." I'd have to make a few calls to check, but I should be good.

Aiden didn't argue. We moved on to the topic of clothes and I decided to put a stop to his controlling nature right there. I knew what to dress up like provided I had the means to. He would lend me $20,000 to get my initial wardrobe ready and to be groomed, which I could repay in two months' time.

"You do realize interns don't earn enough to pay back $20,000 in two months?"

Aiden flipped the pages of the document before landing on the one he was looking for, turning it around and sliding it across the table for me to see.

In consideration of the services to be rendered under this Agreement during the Period of Employment, the Company shall pay the CEO's Intern a salary, commencing on May 3, 2019, at the minimum rate of six hundred thousand dollars ($600,000) per year ('Base Salary'). CEO's Intern's Base Salary will be reviewed and increased by the Board on an annual basis from the 1st anniversary of the Commencement Date (or more frequently, should the board decide to do so), in accordance with the established procedure from time to time, for adjusting...

I knew the Steeles treated their employees nicely, but... fuck. I did the math in my head, almost exploding, "You're paying me 50 grand a month?!"

"Should I double it? I'm pretty sure I'll earn it back from you in no time anyway, so the money's yours for the taking, really." He underlined the amount with a black pen and I shook my head vehemently.

"This seems like too much already, don't change it unless you want to lower it."

"I'm not lowering it. This stays then." He took the contract back and went through the next clause in waiting, which was something about leaves. "It's there in your contract, to keep things legal but you won't be taking any leaves unless you're unconscious in the hospital with a tube shoved down your throat. I don't give myself excuses and neither should you."

I nodded. Most would find this excessive, but I actually admired this trait. It showed that of all things on this planet, what Aiden cared about most was Steele Enterprises, and I would be the same when my own company was launched.

"I'll correct the documents according to our terms and have a copy ready on Monday. You can sign it when you come in." He closed the file, moving the conversation to my business plan. If I had to explain it to a five-year-old, I'd say I had hatched a business plan to help make learning easier for students and educators. With the help of video conferencing and tools that were on the internet already, we could create a space in education that would change the distance learning industry.

It was exciting, and I was so ready to jump into this space headfirst. Aiden and I both believed the market was heavily undervalued, and we would be able to create waves in the industry even before we launched. The goal was to have only one seed fund from Aiden, and then break even in three months' time. It sounded terribly unachievable when I put it casually, but Aiden had run his calculations even after adding a variable of $500,000 as a loss. I was confident we'd never lose that much money in one go, so breakeven looked achievable.

From there on, it was only upwards. Aiden had confirmed with me what percentage of my business was I giving to him, and despite our banter, I put myself realistically on the ground and told him I'd take $450,000 for 15% of my business. This put me at a conservative $3 million valuation, not too bad by industry standards. Most seed funding valued businesses around $2-4 million. Somewhere in the middle seemed just fair of me to ask him.

He gave me a strange look but agreed anyway, letting me know he'd have those papers ready soon enough too. I was beaming like the cat who got the cream. Of course, I'd gotten the cream. To go from a broke sales associate to having lunch with a multimillionaire in a span of three days sounded very much like a dream.

I was convinced that my Cinderella days were here, and Sera, who had recommended me to take up the job at Negative had been my fairy godmother. I would love to thank her one day when my NDA was up. By then I would have earned enough to get her some nice clothes, and maybe take her to a nice place for a meal. That would be awesome for both of us. I'd never forget her help.

"Have you thought about an IPO?"

Geez, Aiden needed to calm down. Most startups went through rounds of funding before launching an IPO. Getting listed on Wall Street was a faraway dream, one that would take years of building.

"Five years," I estimated, not wanting him to think I was short-sighted in any way.

"I'd say three." He shrugged, getting into the car. I climbed in too, trying my best to sound confident without saying that I'm too much of a coward to think that far ahead, "We can revisit this conversation a year after launch, maybe? We'll know where we stand in the market and we'll be able to better analyze the situation."

That seemed to pacify him, or at least that's what I thought. As Aiden drove, I mindlessly played with the touchpad music, switching from country to rap to some weird pop song that was giving me a headache. Aiden swatted my hand away at a red light, switching to some classical music that sounded awfully pretentious. I looked out of the window, trying to find other things to interest me. He dropped me home, letting me know that the movers would be arriving on Friday so I should be prepared for anything.

I had a word with my landlord who released me from the lease on the condition that I wouldn't ask for a refund on the rent I'd paid last week. Then I entered the house and started to build a plan. I had a lot of things to do, and clearly not enough time. First things first, I needed to take care of my clothes.

I listed down the places I could visit to buy some formal clothes, and a few shops where I could buy some dresses in case I had to go to some sort of public place. I factored in some shoes and a sturdy investment in heels. I figured new lingerie was due too, seeing as my little friends were not happy with the current state of affairs.

I then moved on to a trip to the salon, needing every service they could probably list on their website. I carefully took note of all the things I wanted and then double-checked it. The salon would take me a whole day in itself, and then I'd have to go back in on Saturday to get a final wash done.

Adding some clothes to my online cart, I planned to go to the salon first, and deal with the years-old self-inflicted terrible razor damage I had caused to my hands and legs. With pokey hair here and there and everywhere, waxing was becoming a necessity at this point and I was sure it was going to be a nightmare experience. Regardless, there was no better time to rip the band-aid (or waxing strip) off than the present, so I swallowed my pride and made the call.

Basile, the woman on the other side was kind enough to help me schedule my appointments with minimal trips, so I would have my waxing scheduled first. She advised me to go for a face clean up, to get rid of excessive tanning and blackheads. I blindly agreed. We'd scheduled my hair right after lunch since I wanted quite a lot done to them. They needed a cut, some nourishment, styling and colour in them desperately. On day 2, which would be on Thursday, she would remove all residual chemicals from my hair and take care of the mani-pedi I'd been asking for. I didn't think their salon provided more services than that, honestly.

"Your total would come up to $890 approximately and we'll see the hair length and quality before agreeing on a price, is that okay?" Any sane person would have turned down the offer. But I agreed, minding that I should tip her really well now that I had the means too. Happily, she noted my details, confirming my presence at the salon at 10 am. I didn't have much else to do than to pack, so I gathered all the things I wanted to take with me in a makeshift pile on the coffee table, unsure of what to do next.

The evening was young, and I was too, so I grabbed my wallet and made my way down the stairs, hoping to find any kind of entertainment for the night on the streets. The city was crowded, as it had always been, and I was soon a face in the crowd, someone you wouldn't remember as you pass by on your way home. I waved at the lady outside the flower shop, who had been here for longer than I had. On rare occasions, she would let me have a rose from her shop. I'd used that rose once to fend off my landlord's advances, and luckily, he'd kept his distance after that. How nice of men to respect other unknown men more than they respected when a woman said no.

I didn't have the time to be mad about it or to mull over it a lot, because my nose caught the smell of tangy tomato sauce and melting cheese, leading me across the street towards Pizza Hut. I could celebrate, couldn't I? I took out my phone to see if Aiden's transfer had gone through yet or not. That would decide whether I was positively stuffing myself or not.

I stood outside Pizza Hut, eyes nearly popping out of my sockets seeing the pizza being served inside, instantly turning my back to avoid being creepy. The account balance took ages to load, finally showing me the numbers.

$448.09

Nope. Pizza would have to wait.

Before I got teary-eyed over fucking pizza, I decided to make a run for home, convincing myself that I had eaten enough at lunch and didn't really need a heavy dinner to add to it. And really, I had. The tacos and the tamales would linger on my tastebuds for months, if not more. One day, I will go there without Aiden and be able to pay the fucking bill on my own.

I'll be fucking successful one day, no matter what.

For the life of me, I do not understand how contracts work. So if there's a smarter person in the room please let me know what I've done.