Rhea's POV:
The woman in the suit reappeared, her voice all business as she said, "Mr. Rowan, the CEO will see you now."
Rowan. Yeah, that's the name I'm going by today. Pretty cool, right? Time to put on my game face and pull out all the stops.
The lady led me down a polished corridor that opened up into a seriously high-end area. The receptionist was a guy, sharply dressed, the kind of guy I would usually take a moment to appreciate if I wasn't already shaking in my boots about meeting the CEO. He looked exactly my type—charming, clean-cut, sharp—but no, today was not the day for eye candy. Not with everything that was riding on this.
The lady led me past him, to two enormous double doors. I could tell this was it—the CEO's office. Now that was intimidating. It felt a little strange that the CEO himself was conducting the interview, but I supposed he wanted to get a real sense of who he was hiring. And, if I'm being honest, he probably wanted to be sure he wasn't stuck with some amateur who couldn't handle his... eccentricities.
She knocked once before opening the door, and I nearly squealed at the sheer opulence of what lay beyond. The office was something straight out of Forbes' "World's Richest" issue. This guy was loaded.
The CEO's chair was turned away from me, so I couldn't see his face yet, but just the energy of the space told me this man was a force. I took a deep breath. Okay, Rhea. You've got this.
The lady announced, "Sir, Mr. Rowan is here."
Mr. Rowan. It felt a little strange hearing it out loud, but I pushed the odd feeling aside. The door opened, and she left me standing there alone. I had no idea what was about to hit me.
"Mr. Rowan, have you ever worked as a personal assistant before?" The deep voice came, crisp and cold, as he flipped through my resume. My heart skipped a beat, but I pushed through it.
My heart raced as he flipped through my resume. I could already tell that the man on the other end of that voice was a perfectionist—someone who would demand excellence, which meant I had to sell myself like my life depended on it. And right now? It sort of did.
"Yes, I have worked for Mr. Redrigous in Kenya until his retirement," I said, my voice calm despite the sudden anxiety that twisted my stomach. Kenya. Why there? I knew it was far enough away for no one to bother checking.
He didn't even blink as he kept flipping through the papers. "Mr. Rowan, working for me won't be easy," he continued, his tone like ice. "You'll be on-call for as long as I decide. If I work late, you will, too. Do you understand?"
This guy doesn't mess around.
"Yes, sir," I said automatically, already bracing for the endless hours of torture that would surely follow. Goodbye, soft life. I would miss you.
He continued, his tone firm. "I also expect you to arrive before 8 a.m. and have my coffee ready. It's from the shop next door. Can you handle that, Mr. Rowan?"
Oh, so now I'm a barista, too?
"Yes, sir," I muttered, wondering how much of my dignity I'd lose in this job. I could already hear Lucy laughing at me for giving up my beauty sleep for this.
Okay, seriously, when was the last time I had to work this hard for a job? My mind drifted for a second. I'd be running on caffeine and anxiety at this rate.
"Since you're the last candidate, I'll place you on a three-month probation before I officially hire you. Is that acceptable, Mr. Rowan?" he asked, his tone still cold, calculating.
Another automatic response from me. "Yes, sir."
And then... it happened.
The chair swiveled slowly, and I finally saw his face.
No. No, no, no.
My breath hitched in my chest. The man sitting before me wasn't just any CEO. It was him—the man who had gotten me fired, and the one I had shared a very memorable, albeit brief, night with. My stomach dropped as I realized that none other than Mr. Cortez was the CEO of this entire company.
How was this even possible?
I froze for a second, my mind scrambling. Wait. He doesn't know it's me. I'm Mr. Rowan now. But I could feel my heartbeat in my throat, and I struggled to keep my composure.
He was staring at me now, waiting for something—maybe a reaction, maybe an answer.
"Is there any clarification you would like to ask?" His voice cut through the tension, making me jolt back to reality.
I shook my head quickly, praying my nerves wouldn't show. Nope. I'm good. No clarifications needed, thanks.
"No, sir," I managed to squeak, wishing I could just vanish.
"Good." His lips twitched into something that could almost be mistaken for a smile, but there was no warmth in it. "You can speak with my secretary to familiarize yourself with the office and my schedule. You start tomorrow. And I expect to find my coffee on my desk when I arrive."
I nodded, fighting the tremor in my hands. "Yes, sir."
And then, he dismissed me.
Just like that. No big speech, no grand gestures. He was done, and I was left standing there with my world spinning.
As I turned to leave, my mind reeled. This can't be happening. There was no way in hell I was about to work for the guy who had fired me—and had a one-night stand with me—to top it off.
What was I supposed to do now?
I could already hear Lucy laughing at me in my head. Rhea, you're really going to have to find a way to survive this, or else the coffee's going to be the least of your worries.
I tried to force myself to focus, to keep it together. The situation was messy, but it was my only shot at surviving in this cutthroat world. If I played my cards right, I could turn this around. After all, I'm not the only one who has a secret to hide.