Mia adjusted the strap of her bag and took a deep breath. First day at the marketing firm. New city. New life. No more small apartments or cramped kitchens — at least not for eight hours a day.
She had prepared for this. Resumes polished, outfit tidy, confidence assembled like armor. Yet as the elevator doors slid open to the gleaming lobby, she froze for a heartbeat.
The office was modern — all glass walls and chrome, sharp edges and sharper expectations. Employees moved with precision, tapping on keyboards, clicking heels, exchanging polite nods. Everything screamed money, power, and sophistication.
And at the center of it, behind a glass wall that overlooked the entire floor, he sat.
Ryker Hale.
Her heart skipped violently. She would have laughed at herself if she weren't so terrified. Fate had a twisted sense of humor, clearly.
He didn't notice her at first — immersed in a tablet, fingers dancing over the screen with a rhythm that felt dangerous. But when he looked up, the world narrowed. Those same dark eyes from the hotel — intense, assessing, and impossibly magnetic — met hers through the glass.
Mia felt heat crawl up her neck. She wasn't supposed to feel anything. He wasn't supposed to exist in her world like this.
"First day jitters?" a voice whispered beside her.
Jordan. Of course. He leaned casually against the frame of the door, arms crossed, smirking. "You're staring like a deer in headlights."
Mia shook her head, forcing a smile. "I'm… I'm fine."
He didn't look convinced. "Uh-huh. Sure. Just don't trip on your way to meet him."
Her stomach knotted tighter. Meeting Ryker again wasn't a small thing. Not when that night in the rain replayed over and over in her mind.
The HR manager, cheerful and oblivious, led her to a desk in the center of the floor. "Mia, welcome aboard! Your boss will be seeing you shortly — Ryker Hale."
Mia froze again. Her pulse thundered in her ears. "Of course."
She followed the manager through a narrow path between cubicles. And there he was — standing now, tall, impeccably dressed, exuding that calm dominance that made everyone else in the room seem small.
"Ms. Thompson?" His voice was smooth, deep, controlled — and it made her knees weak despite herself.
"Yes… yes, Mr. Hale," she managed, holding out her hand.
He took it. Just a simple handshake, but her fingers tingled where his had brushed hers. That same spark from the hotel surged like lightning in her chest.
"Welcome to Hale Enterprises," he said, letting go of her hand but not her gaze. "I hope you're ready to work hard. We don't do second place here."
"I… I'm ready," she said, voice firmer than she felt.
He gave a small, almost imperceptible nod, then turned back to his office, leaving her standing there, pulse racing and mind a whirlwind.
Hours passed. She tackled spreadsheets, emails, and marketing campaigns with everything she had, but her eyes kept darting to the glass wall. He watched, always poised, almost untouchable. And with every glance, her pulse hammered a little faster, her thoughts slipping into memories she wasn't supposed to remember.
Finally, as the clock struck five, the office emptied. Mia gathered her things, trembling from exhaustion and tension alike. She didn't know whether to be terrified or thrilled — maybe both.
Then came the voice, low, behind her.
"Not bad for a first day."
She turned. Ryker had stepped out of his office, closer than she expected. His expression was unreadable, but his dark eyes held something more than appraisal — something personal.
"I… thank you," she managed, heart hammering.
He smirked faintly, that same dangerous curve of his lips. "I'll be watching."
And just like that, he was gone, retreating behind the glass walls that now felt like a barrier and a promise all at once.
Mia sank into her chair, breathless. The world hadn't changed, but everything had. The man she could never forget was now in her life, every day, every moment. And she didn't know if she was ready for what was coming.
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