Author's note: This is my first story in I don't even know how long. I started in a completely different fandom on and have ended up on here, nearly ten years later. If there's anything that I'm missing, kindly let me know! I want to get back to the author that I used to be.

/

She sighed heavily as she glanced down at her phone, unhappy with what she was seeing. Her bank account was slowly approaching zero and she couldn't seem to stop it. Even working the two and a half jobs she had, she could barely afford to keep a roof over her head. The bills seemed to keep piling up and she was only ever able to make the minimums. She had one maxed out credit card and no one to run to for help.

She continued walking down the street, avoiding the screen now and shifting her bag on her shoulder. She hadn't accounted on the light drizzle that was now coating her face and she couldn't help but stare longingly at each passing car. Although she'd come a long way from the low income neighborhoods of England, she could never picture herself owning a car. Thinking back to her bank account balance, she knew she'd never be able to. She would be lucky to afford her rent for the rest of the year.

The chilled December air blew against her ears and she regretted forgetting her warm cap at home. Making her way to job number two, dreading whatever the next eight hours would bring. Walking through the door, she was met with her work husband, eagerly awaiting her company.

The hotel lobby where she worked was nearly dead during the afternoon hours. There was little to keep either of them busy throughout the first five hours, only followed by a barrage of what she considered yuppy folk. While she was jealous of the money that she figured she'd never have, she couldn't help but be glad for the manners she had been taught by her multiple foster families.

As far as families went, she was blessed in the fact that she had only been to three before being legally adopted. While her adoptive family hadn't had much, they made up for in affection. She felt guilty daily about her decision to leave them behind to pursue a new beginning. She was nearly ashamed that she hadn't made any progress towards it. In fact, she would probably be doing better had she stayed home.

"So I went on that date last night," Finn said excitedly. He'd never had much luck with women and had resorted to trying tinder.

"Oh?" She smirked, turning in her chair to face him. "I'm going to need all the details."

/

During the sixth hour of her shift, she caught a glimpse of him. She'd considered him gorgeous at first glance; tousled dark hair hiding large ears with cute moles flecking his face. He didn't look at her; maybe like many other clients he considered himself too much to bother with a simple receptionist. While he was beautiful, she had hoped that he'd approach Finn rather than her. She glanced next to herself and realized that he had just gone on his last break before leaving.

"Hello, sir," she had to greet first, internally rolling her eyes as he still wouldn't glance up from the tablet he held in his hands. She waited for him to say something, anything, but nothing came. "How can I help you?"

He still didn't look at her, instead approaching the counter closer and moving to comfortably rest his tablet against the tile. He seemed huge next to her. She wasn't a small woman, sure, petite in weight, but slightly above average in height, but he still seemed like he would tower over her if she'd been standing closer.

He finally glanced up and seemed to pause; frozen for a second while he took in her features.

"Ben Solo," He replied, not even giving a greeting. Too good for a greeting, she figured.

"Certainly, sir." She hated clients who ignored her but knew better than to think of calling them out. Instead, she typed the name into her computer and easily found his reservation. Paid for through a company credit card, he had a reservation to a suite. Of course, she rolled her eyes again.

As she hit the enter button to complete his check-in and hand him his room key, he finally looked up. She felt the thunder of the glance. The room seemed to freeze along with him as their met eyes, low lobby music playing in the background. She felt awkward, not knowing how to react to such a response from a customer.

"If you would, sir," she tried smiling as she finished printing the legal notice for him to sign. She reached for a pen to hand him and he continued to stare, almost confused. "Sir," she again prodded and finally snapped him from his gaze.

"Right," he replied quickly, grabbing the pen from her hand with trembling fingers. "How old are you?"

Her nose wrinkled at the question, not quite sure what to think of it. She knew it wasn't any of his business but her manners told her otherwise.

"Twenty-eight," she replied with a smile, slowly reaching to slide his key card across the counter. "Is there anything else I can help you with?"

He opened his mouth to say something and seemed to think better of it. He closed his mouth and lightly shook his head before picking up the card.

"No, thanks." And he turned to leave, a single suitcase following suit as he made his way towards the elevator. She knew the room he was headed towards; it had a huge living room overlooking the city with a bathroom that was almost as big as her apartment. She could almost picture him soaking in the giant tub.

She could hear the elevator ding as it approached, taking the beautiful man inside of itself. Sure, there were plenty of attractive men around her age that frequented her hotel but this man had been different. Never had she felt thunder like she had when their eyes had met. Less thunder on her side, but all intensity from his. She shuddered slightly at the thought, watching at the hotel door shut behind him. She wished she could share something like this with her coworker, but didn't think it was worth the embarrassment.

/

He rubbed his temples as his plane landed, mind overwhelmed with the amount of work he'd be doing on this trip. Converting a client who had been against him for nearly a decade wouldn't be easy which was why they had sent him. Sweet talking with a side of dominance was his forte and he was confident in himself but frowned at the amount of effort that he didn't have the energy to exert.

He stood from his seat in first class as the flight attendant motioned towards the door to begin letting passengers off. The flight hadn't been anything special; a few hours preceded and followed by a certain amount of waiting. It was something that he had grown used to. He barely gave the attendant a nod as he walked down the exit hallway, suitcase in tow. He had learned to only pack a carry-on by now.

Exiting the airport, he approached the first cab that he spotted, immediately naming the hotel that he had reservations in. As the cab began to move, he pulled out his company tablet to begin scanning the emails he already knew he would have.

As second in command, much of the responsibility of the company rested on his shoulders. From a young age, he had been groomed to be able to take it over one day. He had graduated high school and college with honors; followed by a double major in business and pharmaceuticals in order to be prepared. It wasn't necessary, as the company was family owned, but he wanted to feel some sort of accomplishment once he inherited it. His mother had inherited it before him and his father had married into it. Money had never been an issue to him.

As his taxi pulled into the entrance to his hotel, he closed the screen to his tablet and exited the car. The cabbie was quick to retrieve his luggage from the trunk and he thanked him with a generous tip.

Walking in through the automatic doors, he had once again responded to the familiar blip of his tablet receiving an email. He pulled it out and realized it was urgent as he approached the counter. He continued reading as the young woman behind the counter asked for his name.

He replied without much thought, lost in the content of the latest company email. Someone had quit and they were already looking at names to be promoted and other names to be hired. He was skimming the list for anyone familiar as she spoke up, asking him to sign a slip that she slid across the counter.

It was then that he looked up; overtaken by her hazel eyes and thin smile. The British accent shook him to his core. He knew how forced it must have been and realized how rude he must have appeared. He was shaken by her beauty.

His hands shook as she spoke, as if he had never seen a beautiful woman before. Before he could stop himself, he found himself asking her age.

"Twenty-four," she replied matter-of-factly, asserting herself enough to show that she wasn't interested in conversation. "Is there anything else I can help you with?"

He almost felt embarrassed at the realization of what he'd said. Asking a random woman her age, he knew deep down why, but asking nonetheless. His mother had been in charge of this task; in charge of finding an appropriate woman. But his heart had seemed to skip a beat the moment he laid eyes on her.

He cleared his throat and shook his head lightly before leaving the counter. He walked towards the elevator as quickly as he could; thrown off by how thrown off he had become. This was the situation his mother had hoped to put him in but he'd never thought that it would actually happen.

This woman, this woman who worked at the check-in desk at his hotel, had seemed to meet every requirement that he'd hoped to fulfill. Only, she was even more perfect. Every angle to her face left him choking on his own tongue. He had never thought that he would find any woman to show interest in; he had never been interested in a woman who had showed interest in him. But here he was, shocked and confused and completely unsure how to handle himself or even mention this to his mother.

Would he rather select his own woman— and he felt like a monster thinking it, selecting a woman like cattle— or would he rather his mother pick the mother of his future child? The company depended on it, with his father being deceased. His parents had agreed that the company be inherited by the child of their only son but a child seemed less and less likely by the day.

At the age of thirty-eight, Ben had little interest in settling down with any single woman. He had enjoyed his privileged life until this point and continued to do so. His money allowed him the freedom to entertain any kind of woman, whether she was seeking something for the night or even a few months. He had yet to find anyone he could get along with much longer. His mother, on the other hand, had felt the need to solidify an heir before she retired. She hadn't even been what Ben would consider old but she insisted that she be able to leave the inheritance to a child.

From the young age of ten, when his father had passed, his mother had made it quite clear as to how things would be once she passed. Ben had pointed out how far off that may be but she had insisted, as to how so the search had begun. He refused to marry this young, because he didn't even know if he agreed in the concept of marriage. So his mother had resorted to surrogacy agencies, because, to her, adoption was out of the question.

And for the first time since he'd started what seemed like a wild goose chase, he'd seen woman who he had actually felt interested in; someone who seemed confident in herself in just the right way to be up for the task. He might not be able to love her like his mother wanted, but he may be able to sway her into a better lifestyle.

As he slid the keycard into its lock, he began to think of a reason to go and talk to the young woman. The last thing he wanted was to appear creepy or make her uncomfortable in any type of way. On a regular business trip, he would usually order in for dinner. It was a rare occasion that he would leave the hotel for anything besides business meetings.

Placing his luggage on the table as he usually did, he walked into the large bathroom to look at himself in the mirror. He knew that he was an acquired taste; not every woman he met was into the looks that he had. Some would say he was unattractive, with his sharp angles and large ears. His long hair had attempted to hide some of it; wavy locks covering the outer corners of his forehead and cheeks. He stared for another second, unsure if this woman would approve or not, as it always seemed to be a tossup.

He washed his hand before splashing his face with a small amount of water before patting it dry with a soft towel. He would find out, soon enough.

/

Stepping out of the elevator onto the lobby floor, the young woman was nowhere in sight. Behind the desk, he could see that her friend seemed to be packing his bag up in preparation of leaving. She's probably on break, he figured, thanking whatever God seemed to be blessing him.

Confidently, he approached the desk, making sure to puff his chest slightly and hold his shoulders high. The other man seemed to stiffen at the sight, dropping what he'd been doing to focus his attention on his customer.

"Hello," he greeted, standing up straight as the other approached. "Is there something that I can help you with?"

Ben wasn't sure how to answer at first. He froze for a moment, focusing on not embarrassing himself before he would speak. What if he'd been wrong and this man knew nothing about the other girl? Or what if he'd go and laugh with her the second he left the desk.

"Yes, actually," he replied in a voice deeper than he'd planned on being. "I was hoping that I could ask you something in confidence."

The younger man looked perplexed for a moment, glancing around the lobby once before leaning onto the counter and into his eyes.

"Sure," he replied quickly and enthusiastically, surely inwardly loving the idea of gossip. Thinking to himself, Ben paused, realizing that this could mean something bad.

"I'd like to ask about the woman you work with," he paused at that, waiting to gauge his expression before he continued. The other seemed to raise an eyebrow with his question, thrown off slightly yet still seemingly interested. He nodded once he regained his composure, asking Ben to continue with his question. "What's her name?"

It seemed innocent enough and he didn't know another way to start this conversation. He had many more pressing questions to ask, and he wished he could, but neither of them knew each other and he didn't want to give himself away completely.

"Her? Um, Rey," he spoke, confusion showing on his face before he straightened up, placing both of his hands in front of him. "Can I ask why you'd like to know?"

He tried to comfort himself, thinking that maybe this guy thought that he was asking to complain… or something. Or maybe he was used to this question, her beauty being evident and more men than just himself paying her attention.

He cleared his throat before speaking up, glancing around before continuing. "Between the two of us," he began, hoping that he would actually keep this to himself; at least for another hour or so. "I'd like to give her my business card."

Speaking up had been easier than he'd expected. His intentions were obvious but he'd hoped that they were at least shrouded a bit in possibly making it work-related.

"Uh, sure," the other replied, just as uneasy as Ben. He leaned further over the desk, expecting to take the card from him with an open hand.

"I'd like to give it to her myself, if possible."

"Sure," the other man replied, finally backing from the desk and continuing to pack his bag. "She's on her lunch and will be back in the next few minutes."

Ben sighed inwardly at that; glad that she was still there but dreading the fact that he'd have to make another excuse to come back to her.

"Do you mind me asking," he paused again, now crossing the line of professionalism and something personal. "Is she seeing anyone?"

Finn, the employee's nametag read, almost seemed to choke on air as the words left his mouth. Surely other customers had asked him that before, with how gorgeous she was and how she smiled. Yes, it was her job and he didn't want to overstep the line of client and employee, but he was so taken aback by her.

"No, she's not," Finn replied after an awkward moment of silence. It was then that Ben decided to stop with the nervous games; he remembered who he was and how confidence was his job. He could sell this like any other sale he made. "I'm not positive she's looking for anyone at the moment."

He could work with that. He wasn't looking for her to commit herself to him, just another job. An insanely high paying job.

He nodded at that, not sure if he should sit in the lobby or go back to his room. Which would be more appropriate? He tried to silence his insecure thoughts, channeling his confidence. He could do this, he told himself over and over. Surely she'd be back any moment now. Hopefully before Finn had the chance to spill what had just happened.

As if on cue, the door behind the counter swung open, revealing the girl—Rey— to his nosy eyes. And the worst thing that could have happened, happened. He watched as Finn bent down, bag securely placed on his shoulder and ready to leave, and whispered something into her ear. She blushed slightly before reining it in and clearing her throat. She was trying her best to be professional, which he appreciated.

Before he could say another word, Ben took a deep breath and stood, striding across the lobby entrance and towards the desk.

"Hi," he tried his best to lay on his flirty voice, watching as she instantly turned bright red. "I was hoping that I could take you to dinner."

He was right to the point, not leaving her room to overthink what he said and not caring that her friend was there, listening. He watched as her mouth opened slightly, not sure what to say before she shook her head ever so slightly and blinked the wonder away.

"I, uh," She stammered, glancing between Finn and himself before settling on him. The silence in the room was deafening, even with the music playing on low in the background. Right as she cleared her throat to reply, the automatic sliding doors opened to their next client. As the other walked towards the counter, she again cleared her throat before nodding lightly at him, eyes boring into his own as she motioned for him to leave the desk. "I'm off at eight."

He gave her a light smirk as he nodded and slid his business card over the counter before walking back to the elevator to prepare for his date. It had gone smoother than he feared, for which he was thankful. For a man who did well with women, he found himself floundering for this one. He felt like he'd never talked to a woman before, even if this had been a much bigger task.

/

Rey sighed as she punched her number to return from her lunch break. Thursday nights weren't exactly busy but once Finn went home, she would be left to herself, bored and reading the same hotel magazine for the umpteenth time. She had only checked in so many clients that afternoon, one of which being the only man to catch her eye of the night.

His dark eyes had seemed like they stared directly into her soul. Never had she felt so helpless to only someone's eye. It was such an intense look that she wasn't at all used to and she wasn't sure if he'd wanted to fuck or kill her.

Opening the door to their small office, she was taken aback by the look that Finn shot her. He had his bag packed and was ready to leave, which left her jealous, but also confused at the light smirk he shot her way. He pulled her much closer before asking.

"That guy," he motioned to the lobby waiting area, the man from before sitting with his legs crossed and staring silently at the pair. "Asked about you and wants to give you his card." His eyebrows lightly wiggled as the tall gentleman strode across the lobby floor in what seemed like three strides. His dark eyes were focused on her already; almost intimidating her with the intensity.

"Hi," he said, and she could instantly feel her entire face turn bright red. She scanned his face, looking for something, anything, to focus on. "I was hoping to take you to dinner."

"I, uh," she paused, trying to get herself together enough to not embarrass herself. Her cheeks probably turned an even brighter red as she tried to look away from his intense eyes. Male attention wasn't something that she was used to. Sure, men shooting her flirty looks now and then, but the way he was staring shook her. Her usual demeanor had completely left her and she wasn't sure how to respond.

"I'm off at eight." She caught herself by surprise in the confidence in her voice, acting as if she was asked out all the time. Deep down, she was still panicking. This wasn't something that you went to work imagining. Sure, it was a scenario that many other women would fantasize about but she never saw it actually happening.

She could see the smirk on his face as he threw her a light smile before walking away. She couldn't help but notice the quality of his suit. Sure, she was used to seeing men wearing different price ranged suits but his fit so snugly in all the right places. Custom tailored, she thought as she stared at his butt walking away.

It took Finn to snap her out of her trance, turning to meet his ecstatic face before she could properly process what had happened.

"He wants to take you out!" He hissed, grabbing her wrist and pulling her towards himself.

She froze for a moment, thinking about the gorgeous man and the high paying job he must have had to pay for the custom suit that he wore. A man like that, asking to have a date with a woman like her.

"I didn't know what to say," she started as the next client stepped up to the desk, uttering his name as neither of them seemed to register it. They checked him in and shot each other desperate glances the moment he stepped into the elevator.

Finn was far more excited than she was. She hadn't been on a date in months, sure, but she also didn't have any interest in men. Especially older men, she thought to herself, realizing how much older he must have been. She didn't have a thing for older men but, at the same time, she didn't.

Finn gave her a knowing smirk before he left to clock out, leaving her with a "text me later!" as he left the building. As much as she hated it, she knew that he would be the most understanding of her friends. Dating a man through work was mostly frowned upon in her line of work.

Glancing at the clock, it was barely six. She had nearly two hours to waste before something great or horrible would happen.