I know I just got a new job that meant waking up early. Like, very, very early. CMI is one of the biggest companies in the world and I just got a job there, which means I have to make a good first impression (already some people don't like me). I wish I'd reminded Kate to wake me yesterday. That girl is such a morning person... although she's so lazy.
I literally woke up at six o'clock today when I had to be at work by seven. Chase Carson has this very big deal with punctuality and everyone knows that "punctual" basically means fifteen minutes before the actual time. Already, I knew I wouldn't make it because my hair was like a bird's nest glued to my head, and I had yet to brush my teeth, shower, look for the perfect outfit (perfect, not just decent), and eat breakfast. You know what—forget breakfast. Espresso on the way.
I managed to use less than thirty minutes to get ready. Light makeup. Too late to style my hair, so I left it in casual waves down my back. Good enough—I've always loved my long hair anyway. I quickly slipped on my shoes while still running toward the door. Kate could have at least had the decency to help me, but no.
At the door, I took a deep breath and smoothed my hair down. Just going to work. Not some freakish battleground. Although... maybe it is.
"Okay. Calm down, Ellie. It's just work. People don't even like going to work anyway."
I turned the door handle, opened it... and walked right into Mason.
Of all the people in the world—Mason. Why?!
I stared at him stupidly, my hands itching to slam the door and run back to my room. But that would, of course, be rude. Mason stared at me far too long and I began to feel uncomfortable. Guy, that's so rude.
"Hey, Ellen," he said. "Long time no see."
I nodded politely. "Yes." Not long enough.
Mason and I weren't close, though we were practically (literally) neighbors. Our only real conversations were polite hellos. The only reason I even knew his name was because Kate had once insisted he was handsome and I should get his number. Yeah, an embarrassing episode I had no intention of repeating.
"Where are you going this early?" he asked, his eyes lingering in a way that made me itch to step back.
I smiled tightly. It was none of his business. "Well, you know..." I shrugged, "...to work."
"I didn't know you worked."
You didn't have to.
"I just got the job. I start today." I glanced down at my watch as discreetly as possible. I really didn't have time—I had to catch a bus.
"Oh, okay. Where do you work?"
Somewhere far away, and if I don't hurry, I won't get there in time.
"Umm... CMI?"
He smirked. "What a coincidence. I work there too."
I know. And I'm regretting telling you.
"Well, look at the time. I have to move fast or I won't get the bus. Bye, Mason. See you around."
"Wait. You said you got the job yesterday. That means you were that woman," Mason muttered as I walked away.
I stopped in my tracks. What's he talking about? Slowly, I turned back. "What woman?"
He quickly brushed it off. "It's nothing," he said too fast, then switched topics. "You said you had to catch the bus—how about I give you a ride?"
"No!" I said too quickly. His brows rose in surprise. "I mean—it's okay. If I don't get the bus, I can take a cab." Translation: no way am I being trapped in a car with you.
"It's nothing," Mason repeated smoothly. "I know how important punctuality is for a first day. Helps with a good impression."
Kate would disagree. She literally showed up at noon on her first day and got fired, but she cooked up some cock-and-bull story. That girl's a liar.
"It's okay. On me. After all, that's what friends are for."
We were not friends. More like passing encounters.
"No, it's okay—"
"Michaels, you don't have time. Let's go."
I glanced down at my watch. Less than twenty minutes. I sighed inwardly and smiled weakly. "Okay, Mason. Thank you."
He led me down to the underground parking lot, where his BMW gleamed. I reached for the door, but he was faster, opening it for me. I smiled shyly and slipped into the passenger seat. Honestly, I would have preferred the back.
The car smelled faintly of leather and coffee. I turned to the window, soaking in the view just to avoid the awkwardness.
"So, you just started work, huh? What department? I'm in tech and security."
"Executive assistant," I said as if it wasn't a big deal.
His smile faltered. "Top league, huh? You must've made quite the impression. But I don't envy you. I barely see Chase anyway, but from what people say about him..." he trailed off. "You're his assistant?"
I shifted uncomfortably. "He hired me."
"I heard." He glanced at me briefly. "Actually, everyone heard."
"Oh... why? Is it such a big deal?"
He pulled into CMI's parking lot and smirked. "You don't get it, do you? Chase never sits in on interviews. Ever. Then suddenly, this woman shows up, gets rejected by his chosen panel, and he personally hires her? That's rare. Some people have worked here for five years and never even seen him once. You walk in and boom—job. If I had to guess, I'd say you're either really lucky... or you had another way of getting hired." His eyes narrowed.
"Of course not! How can you say that?" My words stumbled.
"I'm joking, Michaels. I don't think that—but a lot of people do."
"They're wrong."
"The point is, Chase is... mysterious. Hard to read. Don't go falling in love with him. I've seen a lot of women fall."
"I won't," I said firmly. A lie. Even I knew it.
Mason laughed at my face. "Glad to hear it. So... that means other people still have a chance with you?"
I stared at him blankly. "What?"
"It's nothing."
I opened the door, forgetting my bag. Mason grabbed it, walked around, and handed it to me.
"If you ever have a problem, just check in the tech department."
I forced a smile. "Thanks, Mason. For the ride... and the advice. I appreciate it." The ride, that is.
"No problem." His hand dropped reassuringly on my shoulder.
And that's when I felt it. That heavy, burning gaze.
I turned—and froze.
Chase Carson.
His hand rested casually on a black Bugatti, but his eyes were locked on Mason's hand on my shoulder. His stare was cold, sharp, almost unreadable. He walked toward us, hands in his pockets, his perfectly styled hair catching the light, one stray strand falling into his eyes. He didn't look like the kind of man who spent hours styling his hair—yet he looked devastating.
"You know each other?" His voice was calm. Too calm.
Mason nodded before I could even open my mouth. I didn't trust myself not to say something stupid. Better to stay quiet and just... drink him in like oxygen.
"We're close friends and neighbors," Mason said.
We are not friends.
Chase nodded once, eyes still on me though his words were directed at Mason. "Get to work. I'll take care of Miss Michaels."
Not cold. Not warm. Just a tone that made disobeying unthinkable.
Mason's hand slipped from my shoulder. "See you around, Ellie."
I stiffened. Since when did he call me Ellie?
Chase watched him leave. When his gaze returned to me, every trace of interest was gone. He looked bored. "Follow me."
Same words as yesterday.
I followed him through the revolving doors, into the private elevator. Chase Carson stood ahead, silent, hands in his pockets, wearing that aura of unspoken power—like silence was his most fluent language.
We entered the same office where he had interviewed me yesterday. Somehow, it looked even bigger.