By the time the elevator doors opened on the forty-second floor, my blazer had turned on me. The lining clung to my arms, my hair fuzzed at the edges, and every breath reminded me of the rent payment hovering like a threat over my week. Perfect timing for a job interview at one of the fanciest companies in the city.
Cole Global's headquarters gleamed with a kind of confidence only skyscrapers and billionaires had. The lobby looked like a museum with better lighting. I tried not to stare at anything too long in case it judged me.
"Hi," I told the receptionist. "Lena Hart. I have a nine o'clock interview with HR."
She checked her screen without shifting her expression. "They'll call you."
I sat on a polished bench that cost more than my car— my former car, technically, since it hadn't started in six months. My phone buzzed.
Nina: Did you faint
Nina: Are you sweating through your shirt
Nina: Do I need to fake a medical emergency so you can leave
I typed back:
Me: Lobby looks like a spaceship. If they reject me, I'll understand.
Three dots popped up.
Nina: Seduce the CEO. Steal his money. Pay my loans first.
I snorted, then tried to stifle it.
The door to the inner offices opened, and a woman in a crisp charcoal suit walked out. Her haircut was one of those sleek bobs that said she didn't have time for nonsense.
"Ms. Hart?"
I stood so fast I nearly tripped. "Yes. Hi. That's me."
She nodded once. "Follow me."
No small talk. No smile. This had to be Ms. Dunley, the HR director I'd Googled three times.
We walked past a glass row of offices, everyone inside typing with silent intensity. The whole floor hummed with expensive air.
Inside a small conference room, she pointed to a chair. "Sit."
I obeyed.
She opened a folder. "Tell me about a time you managed a difficult client."
I launched into my story about the candle-brand client who wanted their marketing to feel like both a hug and a thunderstorm. She blinked exactly once during the whole explanation.
"And why Cole Global?" she asked.
Because I'm drowning in bills and your job posting looked like a life raft.
"I'd like to grow in a larger company," I said instead. "And I admire the company's sustainability campaigns."
She watched me for a long moment. "Wait here."
Then she left.
I exhaled, slumping in the chair. My phone buzzed.
Nina: Well?
Me: I think she hates me.
Before I could overthink myself into a coma, the door opened again.
I straightened—then froze.
It wasn't Ms. Dunley.
A tall man in a dark suit walked in, talking quietly to someone behind him. When the door shut and he turned fully toward me, my brain did a hard reboot.
I knew him.
Everyone did.
Adrian Cole. CEO. The man whose name was literally on the building.
He stopped when he saw me, head tilting slightly. "You're not my team."
"Right," I said too quickly. "HR put me here. I can move. I'm great at moving. Watch me move."
His mouth twitched, almost a smile. "Who are you?"
"Lena Hart. Marketing assistant interview."
He took me in with one slow, thoughtful look—not like he was checking me out, more like he was analyzing a puzzle piece that had been put in the wrong box.
"And why are you waiting alone in my meeting room?"
"HR said to sit here. I didn't realize this was… your… everything."
He checked his watch. "How long have you been waiting?"
"Fifteen minutes."
He made a quiet sound—barely a hum, but annoyed. "Sit, Ms. Hart."
I was already sitting, but I sat harder.
He took the chair across from me and pulled out a tablet. "How do you handle chaos?"
"Sorry?"
"This building operates on five simultaneous emergencies. People who crumble don't last long. People who adapt do. Which are you?"
"I can adapt," I said. "Or at least I can pretend convincingly."
That earned the smallest flicker of amusement. "Good."
Silence stretched. It wasn't uncomfortable, but it was definitely… aware.
"You don't seem easily intimidated," he said.
Oh, if only he knew.
"I'm just trying very hard not to sweat visibly," I admitted.
This time, he almost smiled. Almost.
The door opened.
"Mr. Cole, we're ready," Ms. Dunley said. Then she spotted me. "Ms. Hart. Please come with me."
I stood, clutching my folder.
Adrian's gaze followed me. "Ms. Hart."
I froze.
"Don't vanish before the decision is made."
"I won't," I said.
"Good."
The door closed behind us.
Ms. Dunley's office was a shrine to organization. "We'd like to offer you the marketing assistant position."
My brain hiccuped. "Offer?"
"Yes. Full-time. Salary here." She slid a paper across the desk.
The number made my pulse spike.
"I accept," I said immediately, trying not to sound desperate.
"Sign here."
I signed. My hand only shook a little.
As I left the office, my phone buzzed again.
Nina: ARE YOU RICH NOW??
I took a photo of the folder.
Me: Apparently I'm employed? Somehow?
The elevator dinged. As the doors opened, I glanced back. Through the glass wall of the conference room, I saw Adrian speaking to a group of executives, unreadable as ever.
I stepped into the elevator.
It closed.
And that should've been the end of my weird morning.
But when I got home and opened my new-hire packet again, something slid out.
A second contract.
Thick paper. Gold letterhead.
CONFIDENTIAL — PERSONAL AGREEMENT
Adrian Cole
My name was printed under it.
And I had absolutely no idea why.