The morning sun bounced off the sleek, obsidian windows of Archer Innovations. Nia stood for a moment at the entrance, catching her reflection in the glass. She adjusted the lapel of her cream-colored blazer and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear.
"Perfect," she whispered to herself with a satisfied smirk. "Good morning, Nia. You look like a dream."
She walked through the lobby with the confidence of someone who owned the building, even though she was technically just the executive secretary to the CEO. Heads turned as she passed—some out of professional respect, most out of sheer admiration. Nia didn't mind. In her mind, she was giving the public a free show.
When the elevator reached the top floor, Nia headed straight for the large mahogany doors of the corner office. She didn't knock.
"The sun has arrived, James. You can stop brooding now," she announced, stepping inside.
James Archer, a man who looked like a slightly more tired version of Nia, looked up from a mountain of spreadsheets. A genuine smile broke through his weary expression. "You're ten minutes late, Nia."
"I'm not late. The world just started ten minutes too early," she retorted, dropping her designer bag on the side table and moving to the coffee machine. "How are you? Did Mom call you last night?"
James's smile faltered, his shoulders dropping an inch. "She did. To remind me that Julian just closed a fifty-million-dollar deal in London. Apparently, I'm still 'settling' for local tech development."
Nia turned, her expression softening as she brought him a cup of coffee. "Julian is a shark who lives to please them. You're building something real here, James. You know they've never had good taste when it comes to who the 'gold' of this family is."
James sighed, taking the cup. "I don't know why I let it get to me. I have the best secretary in the city, even if she thinks the employee handbook is a suggestion."
"I'm your sister first, your secretary second, and a goddess third," Nia teased, leaning against his desk. "The handbook doesn't apply to goddesses."
James laughed, the tension leaving his face. "What would I do without you, Nia?"
"You'd probably be wearing a mismatched tie and eating protein bars for lunch," she said, checking her tablet. "Now, clear your head. You have the meeting with the lead consultant for the merger at 10:00 AM. They say he's the best in the business."
"Right. Mr. Thorne," James said, standing up. "Let's head to the conference room."
Nia followed him, smoothing her skirt. She was used to being the most interesting person in any room. She knew how to use a smile or a clever comment to soften even the hardest negotiators.
They entered the conference room where a man was already standing by the window, looking out at the city skyline. When he turned around, Nia felt a slight flick of curiosity. He was strikingly handsome, but his face was an unreadable mask of cold professionalism.
"Mr. Thorne, thank you for coming," James said, extending a hand.
"James," the man replied. His voice was deep, clipped, and entirely devoid of warmth. He shook James's hand briefly before his eyes shifted to Nia.
Nia gave him her most charming, thousand-watt smile—the one that usually made men stumble over their words. "And I'm Nia Archer, the Executive Assistant. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Thorne."
She waited for the usual reaction—the slight widening of the eyes, the lingering gaze, the reflexive smile.
Instead, Thorne's eyes swept over her as if she were a piece of office furniture. He didn't smile. He didn't even blink.
"The files I requested, Miss Archer," he said, his voice flat. "Do you have them, or are we wasting time?"
Nia's smile didn't falter, but her eyebrows twitched. "I have them right here. I've also highlighted the key discrepancies for your convenience." She handed him a leather-bound folder, grazing his hand slightly with her fingers—a deliberate move.
He pulled the folder away instantly, his expression remaining as frozen as a winter lake. He didn't look at her face; he opened the folder and immediately began reading.
"The data is disorganized," Thorne said, not looking up. "I'll need the raw analytics by five p.m."
Nia blinked. "Excuse me? I spent three hours organizing those."
Thorne finally looked at her. His eyes were a piercing, dull gray, and they held absolutely no interest in her whatsoever. "Then you wasted three hours. James, shall we begin?"
He sat down and began laying out his laptop, completely dismissing her presence.
Nia stood there for a second, her heart doing a strange, indignant dance. *He didn't even look at my hair,* she thought, genuinely baffled. *He didn't even say thank you.*
James glanced at Nia with a look of "I told you he was intense," but Nia just narrowed her eyes at the back of Thorne's head.
"I'll get those 'raw' files for you, Mr. Thorne," Nia said, her voice dripping with a sweetness that had a sharp edge. "Is there anything else? A coffee? A personality?"
James coughed into his hand to hide a laugh.
Thorne didn't even look up from his screen. "Just the files, Miss Archer. Close the door on your way out."
Nia walked out, clicking her heels louder than usual. Once the door shut, she took a deep breath and smoothed her hair.
"Okay," she whispered to the empty hallway, a small, competitive spark lighting up in her eyes. "So, he's a robot. This might actually be fun."