Mel Ryle
ZOEY
Around sixty people from our building were gathered on the sidewalk, waiting as firefighters inspected the premises.
Across the crowd, I spotted Daniels talking to one of the firefighters. I was sure he was spinning a tale to keep them from looking too closely.
I glanced around at the crowd. There were a lot of women in our company.
Was I the only one he targeted?
Did no one else see what he was doing?
Or was he just that good at hiding it?
I didn’t dress any differently from the other women. I didn’t encourage him. Maybe I just fit his preferences more than the others. That was the only explanation I could think of.
My family always said I was an easy target: I was short and kept to myself, especially at work.
I saw him looking at me through the crowd, like a predator eyeing its prey. He wasn’t done with me yet.
But I wasn’t done fighting back. He wouldn’t corner me again.
I just wanted to get away from him. I pulled out my phone and texted my best friend, April. I needed backup.
The Grand Hotel was one of the most glamorous places in Chicago.
Amy worked there as a receptionist, and it was a good halfway point between me and April. The walk would give me a chance to clear my head after the day I’d had.
***
I sank into a plush chair in the lobby of The Grand Hotel.
The chair, designed for guests to sit in for a few minutes at most, was probably worth five times more than the broken swivel chair I had at work.
I’d complained to Daniels about it before, but he’d just used it as an excuse to check me out.
I shook off the thought of him and pulled out my favorite local magazine, Chicagoan’s Journal. I flipped to an article I’d been wanting to read:
I didn’t get past the second tip:
I already do that…
I already do that…
“Excuse me?”
I looked up from my magazine. A man had taken the seat next to me. I almost gasped.
Not just because he was incredibly handsome—and he was—but because I recognized him.
It was Julian Hawksley, the CEO of Hawksley Enterprises!
My heart pounded. A wave of heat washed over me.
I wasn’t single, but a part of me acknowledged what my sensible, committed self didn’t want to admit.
Julian Hawksley was the most attractive man I’d ever seen.
But he was Julian Hawksley.
Also known as the Julian Hawksley.
What was he doing here?
I looked around, expecting to see who he was talking to. It couldn’t be me…
He waved, pulling me out of my daze. “Hello?”
I blinked, coming back to reality. “Yes?” I asked.
“I hate to interrupt, but could I borrow your magazine?”
His face was charming, the kind that could persuade anyone to do anything.
But I noticed a hint of tension in his expression, as if he really needed to read my magazine.
I was starstruck. If he’d asked for my wallet, my car keys, anything, I would have given it to him without a second thought.
I handed him the magazine...
And hoped he would ask for something else—anything else.
“Thanks!” he said, opening the magazine and holding it close to his face, as if he was either really interested or needed glasses.
What was he doing? It was funny to see a grown, handsome man acting like this. ~Was he playing a joke on me? Was this a prank?~
I heard the click of heels on the polished floor. A moment later, one of the most beautiful women I’d ever seen walked by.
I recognized her from ads and entertainment videos: her name was Grace. She was a supermodel and was famously dating the man sitting next to me.
Her eyes scanned the lobby before she turned and walked down a hallway.
Once the sound of her heels faded, Julian lowered the magazine and sighed.
“Thanks...” He turned the magazine around to read the printed name in the corner. “’Vlashion Front Desk? Interesting name... Do you have a Great Aunt Vlashion you were named after?”
He grinned, his brow furrowed.
I laughed in disbelief.
Was Julian Hawksley talking to me?
Was he flirting with me?
I opened my mouth, but I was tongue-tied. I always felt stupid when I was face-to-face with someone so attractive.
“No, I’m—not, that’s not, that’s where I work—I, my name is Zoey. Curtis. Zoey Curtis,” I managed to say.
I wanted to run away, but I forced myself to speak, despite feeling self-conscious.
I was a grown woman in a committed relationship.
And this was a man I’d never met before.
In that moment, not looking like a total idiot was my only goal.
He laughed.
“Well, thanks for the assist, Zoey Curtis. I needed a break.” He handed back the magazine. “Lots of good stuff in there. Any of the tips working for you?”
The sound of heels clicking echoed in our direction; Grace was coming back. Julian sighed.
“I better go deal with that. Nice to meet you, Zoey Curtis, of the aforementioned Vlashion Front Desk.”
He extended his hand for a shake. I took it, expecting a firm grip.
Instead, his hand was warm. I felt a spark, a connection, an electricity between us.
He held my hand a moment longer than necessary, and we both knew it.
He walked towards the elevators and waited for Grace to return.
“There you are!” he called out, acting as if he’d been searching for her.
They stepped into the elevator, disappearing from sight a moment later.
I stood rooted to the spot until April and Amy joined me a minute later.
“You saw that, right?” I asked, needing confirmation.
But they didn’t need to answer—their giggles and excited tiptoe dancing said it all. They were just as stunned by my encounter with the billionaire playboy.
***
The highs and lows of the day melted away at the club that night.
We downed a few drinks and danced for an hour or so, but Amy’s night was cut short by a work call.
The club was noisy, so she had to step outside to take the call. When she returned, something was clearly off, but she wouldn’t spill.
“I gotta go, sorry! Don’t be mad!”
Mad at her?
Work was work. In a tough city like Chicago, you had to hold onto any decent job you could find. We hugged her goodbye and she left.
April and I didn’t stay out much longer. But I managed to shake off my bad day and my worse boss, so I’d call the night a win!
***
When I arrived back at our studio apartment, I noticed the lights were on and quickly unlocked the door.
Ben must be back from Asia.
Of course, he hadn’t bothered to tell me, hadn’t given me a heads up.
It was a frustrating communication problem that he just wouldn’t work on, but there were worse things. At least he was trying to make something of himself.
Though he could try a little harder...
He was an early-career artist, but he was finding enough success to travel the world and collaborate with exciting painters and sculptors.
We hugged and cuddled...and did a few other things...before catching up on each other’s lives since he’d left.
I filled him in on the latest with Mr. Daniels, expecting support, or an “I’ll kill the bastard!”, or a “You should sue!” But that wasn’t his reaction.
“What were you wearing? I mean, I’ve seen your closet, babe…”
Was he serious?
I guess my expression in the dark said it all. “What? I’m just saying…”
“There is nothing inappropriate about what I wear. Daniels is an ass, end of story.”
I was too exhausted, and my day had been too long, to argue with him. “Good night,” I said, and rolled over.
This was not how I’d imagined his first night back.
I set the alarm on my phone and was about to turn off the light when my phone pinged with a new email. The subject line piqued my interest:
“Invitation to interview for a position at Hawksley Enterprises @ our Chicago headquarters.”
Hawksley Enterprises?
I opened the email.
The Chicago office of Hawksley Enterprises is looking for unique, standout candidates.
Your information has come to our hiring department. If you’re interested in learning more, we’d love to discuss it in person. Noon, tomorrow.
My information?
How did they get my information?
Why me?
This had to be connected to my run-in with Mr. Hawksley earlier today.
I had no clue what I was getting into.
But there was no way I’d pass up the opportunity to find out.