Even with half of the management staff filed into his office, the only noise was coming from the numerous televisions, all playing the same story on different news channels.

"Who spoke with her?" Christian asked, still resting his chin on his two index fingers. 

"I did, sir." Edward replied. 

"And exactly what did you say to her and how?"

"I told her that our company was interested in purchasing her lot, and I was very much professionally on the topic, sir. I do acknowledge that she was clearly unwilling to let us have the space, but nothing that implied that she would take this course of ac..."

Edward was cut off by the hundredth phone call of the hour.

"S-sir, I have no idea who she is in the first place, I do not have a picture of her! N-no, this is a misunderstanding and most definitely not an issue concerning you. Please respect my privacy." He hung up the phone and asked his secretary to screen any further calls.

"You know what? Give me the girl's address. I will go see her and ask what her deal is." 

"Yes sir," all the staff began to move but again it was Edward who came up with the answer. 

Christian elected to drive himself, best to remove any middle man at this point. 

He took a big black suv and drove to the address given to him, but found it empty upon arrival. He climbed up to the patio and tried to discreetly look in but got caught.

"Looking for Miss Adams too, are you?" An elderly woman cheekily smiled at him as if he were a peeping tom.

"Y-yes mam. And where might I find her?"

"Right now, she could be at the studio. She's gotten so busy she has, future Mrs. Sanders!"

Christian Sanders choked on a cough.

"Y-yes, lucky her. Could you point me to the studio please?"

"Oh, but you won't make it there in your big truck! Walk a minute down to the shops and you'll catch a cart!"

Christian thanked the woman and followed her directions in the heat. Luckily, he found a man cycling a cart and asked him for a ride to the studio. He shrugged off his coat and hung it over his arm as he rode.

"Got an audition today, have you?" The cyclist asked.

"Excuse me?"

"Well, people only go to the studio to audition, or have themselves recommended to the big people."

"Oh, umm sure!"

They arrived at the studio a little outside of the city, and Christian finally saw what everyone was telling him. There were hoards of auditioners clumped together while busy prop men were rushing about upon the orders of screaming directors.

He asked whoever he was able to catch where he could find this Penelope Adams, and was eventually directed to a room upstairs.

"Ma'am, ma'am! Please remember me for next time. I'm David! Like David Beckham!" 

The office was clearly busy so he waited outside. 

"Yes, yes. I will for sure, thank you. Leave your name with my assistant."

An excited man exited the room and bumped into Christian. 

"Hello, my name's David Collins. Your boss told me to give you my name. Please do remember me for next time!" 

"Of course!" Christian lied to send the man away, and finally walked into the office of Penelope Adams. 

He walked in to see her back turned to him, trying to fit the hundredth bouquet of flowers amongst the others taking space on her back table. 

"Um, excuse me..."

With a flip of her long hair, she turned towards him, and Christian forgot his own name.

"Yes?" she prompted him and he stuttered to find words. 

"Umm, Miss Adams?" he inquired from the girl he'd seen the day before, swinging children on a gate. 

"Yes that's me? What can I do for you today?"

"Me... I... the news?"

"Oh yes! The news! Boy do I regret giving that interview!" Penelope slumped into her chair and ushered him to the one across from her. "Phone calls, autographs, auditions... The flowers!" she motioned to the table full of them. "I didn't tell my story for all this headache. Good thing I didn't let that reporter take my picture! Poor Christian must be so disturbed."

Christian! That was his name!

"Christian?"

"Christian Sanders! My fiance!"

Christian Sanders choked on a dry throat. Here was this girl telling him she was the future Mrs. Sanders, yet couldn't tell that the person sitting across from her was her fake fiance. 

"Do you wanna know how we met?"

Christian served as a very invested audience as he listened to his own life story being told to him. This girl was definitely going to make it in Hollywood, cause her impressions and comments of the imaginary Christian Sanders kept the real Christian Sanders very amused.

"...And that's the long and short of it. Some reporter I mistook for a director went on and published the story! And here we stand."

"Yes we do indeed," it was the first thing Christian had said and at last Penelope came to her senses. 

"Were you here for an ad?"

"Um, well..."

Penelope gave a short laugh and stood off. "They all come for something or the other. Impressive suit you got on huh? But don't expect a high fi role straight off the bat. You've got to earn it, work your way through it."

Christian certainly liked her business ethics, among the list of other things he liked about her.

"Catch this!" 

She caught him off guard, and he caught a bouquet of flowers a second before it would've spilled on his head. 

"You've just picked up your date, now make her eager to join you for dinner at the chinese buffet. Go!"

Christian didn't know what was going on, but jumped off his seat when Penelope shouted action! 

"You, uh, your perfume! Citrus-y! Takes me back to the first time I had orange chicken..."

His performance was cut off by Penelope's burst of laughter. Christian would have quieted an entire lecture hall just to hear her laugh.

"Never done it before?" 

The businessman was beginning to lose his composure. 

"Very bad... Got to put some work into it. Tell you what, if anything comes up, I'll give you a call. Mr... David, was it?"

Wanting to prolong her presence in his life, Christian said yes.

"David Collins. My number is 013-019-7443."

Penelope typed as he spoke, then looked up with a smile.

"NexTech? Same as mine!"

Christian returned her smile.

"Nice phones! Crap service!"

Christian Sanders was stunned, and was about to defend his company when he remembered he wasn't standing here as the CEO of NexTech.

"Really?" he said, trying to further the conversation, find out what she had in mind about his company. 

"Truly! I keep trying to tell Christian, 'try twisting the antenna a little or something'

Christian stifled a laugh. 

"If his fiance isn't going to tell him the hard truth, who else will?"

"Apparently no one," Christian muttered to himself, making a note to have a meeting with the engineering department.

"Anywho, thanks for stopping by! You have a memorable face, David!"

"Oh well, thank you. I guess. I'll wait for your call. Will see you around!" 

I had to forced myself out of the room, not willing to part from her bubbly company. Now I had to go back to my literal black and white office and deal with the hard truth about my company. But sorry to say, I was eagerly looking forward to living this lie. I'm finally free of being Christian Sanders. Yesterday I was CEO of NexTech. Tomorrow, I'm David Collins, bumbling actor to be. May the force be with me!

May 3rd, 2012.