You were screwed. All your parents asked of you was to train the new intern. Seeming that both of you were around the same age, however you were the nepo baby. You had it all: a degree from Columbia, a doting sweetheart boyfriend, and loving parents who would never ever doubt your abilities. You were a good girl, the walking definition of it. Everything you did was because your parents let you do it; Samuel was the new intern. You didn’t justify yourself for anything.

You don’t justify your actions in that hotel room, and now you’re ignoring logic again in choosing to come see him instead of being with your picture-perfect boyfriend. Ringing his doorbell, you fidget with your fingers and internally debate, leaving before he opens the door. You hear footsteps and the unlocking of his door; he knew you’d come.

”Well, if it isn’t Miss Perfect, to what do I owe such pleasure?” you didn’t know if you wanted to slap or kiss that smug smirk on his face. He knew why you were here, and you hated it.