Distant

"I need the files on Trés chic's order, can you forward them to my mail?" Damien's voice rang through the phone.

He was no longer sweet and tender like before.

Heck, he wasn't even seductive anymore. He sounded thoroughly professional. He sounded like Céline was exactly what she was, an ordinary assistant.

He only called when he needed something concerning the office and she barely even saw him. She kept getting a cup of coffee for him but that was it, nothing else remained the same.

Céline was truly in trouble now.

"Yes, I will do that right away..." she stuttered. The line went dead immediately and she was left with the torture of self blame in her head.

Her plans had gone ten steps backwards ever since that cursed dinner she had with him at the Maroon restaurant. That place made her feel like she was finally having her dreams materialize themselves.