Emily Carter stepped out of the taxi, her heart hammering against her chest. She smoothed her palms down the front of her navy blazer and drew a shaky breath, staring up at the gleaming glass building that reached arrogantly into the clouds. Saintwood Enterprises. She'd read the name a dozen times in the emails, but standing here, at the foot of the skyscraper, it felt more real — and more intimidating — than she had imagined.
Emily's POV
This is it, Emily, she told herself firmly. You've handled tougher projects than this. You're not that scared little girl from Maplewood anymore.
Still, her fingers trembled as she gripped her briefcase. Coming to the big city had always been part of her plan. Getting assigned a high-stakes redevelopment project for Saintwood Enterprises was the break she'd worked so hard for. But underneath her determination lurked an unease she couldn't quite shake. Why did the company name feel oddly familiar?
She shook her head. It didn't matter. This was her chance to prove herself, to climb higher in the industry, maybe even secure a permanent contract. She squared her shoulders, forced a smile, and walked through the massive glass doors.
The lobby was a world away from the small-town offices she was used to: sleek marble floors, towering sculptures, an enormous chandelier dripping crystals. A woman at the reception desk greeted her politely and directed her to the top floor. Emily's pulse jumped as she stepped into the private elevator.
Ethan's POV
From his corner office, Ethan Saintwood stared out over the city skyline. His jaw tightened as his assistant read out the day's schedule.
"Your 10 a.m. meeting is with the new project consultant for the east-side development, sir. Emily Carter."
Something in the name made Ethan freeze. Emily Carter. He closed his eyes briefly, and the name echoed in his mind, stirring memories he had long buried: a soft laugh, a summer breeze, a girl with sunlit hair and trusting eyes.
He turned sharply. "Did you say Emily Carter?"
His assistant blinked, startled. "Yes, sir. From Hargrove Projects."
Ethan waved her off, sinking into his chair. It can't be her. It's just a coincidence. Still, his fingers curled into fists on the armrest. Ten years. He hadn't heard her name in ten long years.
Back to Emily
The elevator opened with a soft chime, and Emily stepped into the executive floor. She followed the assistant down a long corridor lined with abstract paintings until they stopped in front of a heavy oak door.
"Mr. Saintwood will see you now," the assistant said with a polite smile.
Emily drew in a steadying breath, pushed the door open, and stepped inside.
The man who rose from behind the massive desk stole the air from her lungs.
Tall. Broad-shouldered. Raven-dark hair. His eyes, a piercing stormy gray, locked onto hers with a flicker of recognition that made her knees weaken. For one dizzying moment, the years fell away, and she saw the boy she'd once loved standing before her.
No. It can't be.
"Emily," Ethan said softly, his voice a low rasp that twisted her heart.
Her breath caught. Her carefully built walls cracked just a little as she whispered, "Ethan?"
Emily's POV
Shock rippled through her. Of all the companies, all the contracts, why this one? She'd spent years convincing herself she'd moved on, that Ethan Saintwood was just a chapter in her past. Now here he was, standing a few feet away, no longer the teenage boy she remembered but a man shaped by years she hadn't shared.
She swallowed hard, forcing herself to stay professional. "Mr. Saintwood, I'm here to present the redevelopment proposal."
His lips curved in a faint, almost sad smile. "It's good to see you again, Emily."
Her heart pounded so loudly she was sure he could hear it.
Ethan's POV
He watched her struggle to compose herself, the same determined spark in her eyes that he remembered. God, he hadn't expected this. He'd thought she was gone forever, a bittersweet memory locked in the past. Now here she was, in his office, in his world, looking even more beautiful than he remembered.
But he couldn't let himself go there. Not now. Not when his life was so carefully balanced on the edge of duty and expectation.
He cleared his throat, slipping back into the cool, measured voice he'd perfected over the years. "Please, have a seat, Miss Carter."
Emily sank into the chair, clutching her notes like a lifeline. She could do this. She had to do this.
But deep down, she knew: this project was going to test more than just her professional skills. It was going to test her heart.