Why deceive me??
65. I Love Him

We cuddled for a few moments and I could feel her breath steady and calm. I realized she was sleeping and I stood up from the bed and went into my study. I took my phone along. Once I got into the study, I dialed Alan's number. He picked

after the second ring.

"Boss," He said, his voice a little sleepy.

"I want you to go to Maxwell sanitarium, go to ward 2. The patient there is an elderly woman. I need you to find out everything about the woman's daughter." I said. "Yes sir," Alan replied.

"I need the report in two days' time. No mistakes," I said.

"Roger that. But sir, do you know the daughter's name? Maybe she might have multiple daughters. So I can know who in specific I'm looking for," He said. "Ronnie," I simply replied and hung up.

It was on a Monday in Damon's office and he was seated attentively, listening to what Alan had to say. He was holding a file in his hands and studying them. "Sir, I don't quite get the picture," Alan said.

Damon frowned. "What do you want to know?" He asked, nonchalantly.

"Well, her name is Ronnie Corners, she stays with her mum and her dad is late. She worked in a thrift store and helps her mum in running her laundry shop. She rarely has enough friends and her mum is in a coma as of the present. Now she looks like Katie and it's impossible to differentiate them except for their hair. But recently, people around said she got a job and barely comes to the house. She bought a new house for her mother before she was comatose." Alan said. "So this is her complete file?" Damon asked.

"I don't get the puzzle sir," Alan said

"Alan, I need you to get all the information you need to know about Katie's whereabouts, where she went, and when she's coming back," Damon said.

Alan's mouth dropped. "You don't mean...." He began.

"Yes. The person in my house is not Katie. That's Ronnie Corners and if you want to get more details, find out yourself," He said with a note of finality.

Damon saw her school certificates and saw how brilliant she was. He nodded in satisfaction. She was capable of any job.

Alan began to say something when they both heard the clicking of heels. He turned and saw Ronnie walking toward them, wearing a grey pantsuit and white handbags. She looked professional in a kind of way. Alan was struck by the beauty that he stared at her. Damon frowned at him.

"If you're done staring, please get out of my office," He demanded.

Alan cleared his throat and smiled at the already laughing Ronnie. He hurriedly walked out of the office.

Damon stood up from his seat and walked toward Ronnie. He held her to himself and bent to kiss her but Ronnie stepped back.

"What is it?" He asked.

"We're at the office," She said.

"My office," He replied.

"I know," She said and sighed.

Damon, sensing something was off, held her face.

"What's wrong?" He asked.

She hesitated. "Well, about my application for this job. I don't think I want to apply anymore," She said.

"Why? You finally agreed to my terms and conditions of being paid at home?" He asked, playfully.

"Not really. It's about my credentials," She replied.

"And what about them?" He asked, hoping she'll spill the beans.

"Well, they are at home and I can go to the house to get them. My mum is gonna freak out of she thinks I'm gonna work," She lied

Damon frowned. She didn't want to say anything just yet. Just how long was she going to keep secrets from him?

He sighed. "No problem. You can have the job. But you'll have to bring your credentials later on," He said.

Ronnie gasped in surprise. "Really?" She asked.

"Yeah," Damon nodded.

She hugged him and smiled.

"Can I kiss you now?" He asked, impatient.

Ronnie kissed him and clung to him.

"So when do I start?" She asked.

"Anytime. But I'll prefer you start at this point because I can't stand not seeing you every day," he said, teasing her.

Ronnie blushed. "Does that mean I have to call you sir, like everyone else?" She asked.

"Are you planning to call me by my name so everyone knows you don't regard me as your boss?" Damon asked, narrowing his eyes.

Ronnie laughed. "No sir. If never do that," She said

"Don't call me that when we're alone. It hurts my feelings," Damon said playfully.

"Stop that," Ronnie whined.

"What did I do?" He asked

"You're making me feel like I'm not an employee right now," She said.

"Sorry, Miss Katie," he said and a hint of sadness flashed across her eyes.

RONNIE'S POV

"Sorry Miss Katie," He said and I felt a tinge of sadness in my heart.

I wanted to tell him about my real identity but I was scared he was going to chase me out of the house or something. What will I do then? I love this scene of my life and would do anything to keep it. But I wanted Damon to call me by my name, Ronnie, and not Katie. I wanted him to love me not just because he thought I was Katie. I was already in love with this man. If Katie comes back, will I have to leave him? I don't want to leave this man by my side. I want to be with him when he's happy, sad, depressed, angry, and in all emotions. I looked clearly at the man standing in front of me.

He was, well, different from all others. He was handsome, in the conventional sense, and he had that appearance that could make him stand out in the crowd. He was fair, almost pale white. His unfathomable, golden brown eyes contrasted exceptionally with his light-toned face. His eyes were as deep and expressive, as you could get lost if you stared long enough. His face had that faraway look in it, which cannot be described in words. His smile, which reached up to his eyes and wrinkled them, flaunted his modesty and humility. Often, you could see a hint of pain in his sparkling eyes, which would disappear as suddenly as it emerged. He sometimes spoke too fast, which perhaps revealed how much agony he concealed within himself. Above all were his frame and his stature. He was extremely muscular, with 8-pack abs or 16 cm biceps. However, he could stand out in a crowd, which was mostly due to his way of carrying himself. He was the kind who had girls swooning over him. But he was simple and innocent. He was perhaps, just one in a million, who was "nothing special, but all the same unique".