WORTH
Istep off the elevator and my phone vibrates in my hand.
A name flashes across the screen—one I recognize immediately and wish I didn’t.
Morgan:
Last night was fun. When can I see you again?
I close my eyes for a brief, long-suffering second.
I have a rule. A very clear one. No woman more than twice. This one clearly didn’t get the message—or chose to ignore it.
I don’t respond. Instead, I slide the phone into my pocket. I don’t owe anyone an explanation, and I refuse to clean up confusion I never invited.
I barely have time to breathe before I’m immediately ambushed.
“Mr. Miller!”
Francine, one of our interns, comes jogging towards me with a stack of documents. I can already feel the migraine forming. Andrée—my assistant and the office manager—must be triaging fires again.
“Andrée said to give you these right away. It’s the Lau Construction agreement,” she blurts. “Apparently, it needed your signature yesterday.”
“Everything needs my signature yesterday,” I mutter with a sigh.
I grab the papers from her hands as I swipe my badge at my office door. “Next time, don’t rush me before I’ve had coffee.”
She stammers something apologetic, but I’m already inside, gesturing at her to follow me.
I sit at my desk, rub my temple, and scan the agreement.
“Legal’s looked this over?” I ask without glancing up.
“Yes, sir,” Francine says from the doorway.
“And the board?”
“Reviewed late last night.”
I sign the pages and push them towards her. “Take them.”
She grabs the documents and scurries off like her shoes are on fire.
I glance at the stack of interview folders in front of me. Meetings start in ten minutes, but I haven’t bothered to check the order. Doesn’t matter. I’ll figure it out on the fly like I always do.
Seconds later, Andrée steps in with her clipboard in hand, and gives me her classic no-bullshit look, bringing me back to the present. “It’s time, boss. The first candidate is waiting.”
I follow Dre into the boardroom, head down, distracted by a message from Henson finally confirming we received the building permits we’d been waiting for. The other board members greet me but I barely acknowledge them as I sit at the head of the table.
Then I look up.
And everything fucking shifts.
Familiar, piercing brown eyes are watching me, posture perfect, nerves radiating from every angle.
It’s the barista from Willow’s. The one I didn’t even thank for my drink. Here. Interviewing for a job at my company.
My lips quirk at the memory of her shouting at me only a few days ago.