Chapter 1
“Okay, but be honest,” Olivia Hister whispered, clutching her double espresso like it was holy water.“Do I look like a woman on the verge of greatness, or a woman on the verge of vomiting?”
Azlyn Williams, the exact opposite of Olivia’s polished look in leggings and oversized shirt, didn’t bother looking up from her tablet.“Both,” she said in her soft, professor-meets-moon-goddess voice.“Goddess-level panic looks good on you.”
Olivia let out a strangled sound that might’ve been a laugh or a small nervous breakdown.“Why am I like this?”she muttered, fluffing her hair with one hand and frantically checking her lipstick with the other.
“Because you’re about to interview the most annoyingly perfect man and youmighthave a tiny crush on him.”
“I do not,” Olivia snapped.Then, quieter: “I might.”
Azlyn gave her a slow, knowing smirk—the kind that suggested she’d already run the emotional calculus.“Just promise me you won’t start the interview by giggling or asking his star sign.”
The entire crew was equally on edge as the studio buzzed with restless energy.They all knew that this interview had been a major coup.Crew members rushed to adjust lights.A producer muttered into a headset with increasing urgency.Olivia’s stylist vanished behind a curtain and didn’t return.
Olivia paced in short, clipped steps, tapping her nails against her coffee cup.Her breath was shallow as she glanced impatiently at the time.She adjusted her skirt.Then her hair.Then her earrings.Then her skirt again.
Azlyn remained still, one shoulder against the fake wall, tablet balanced in her hand.She watched the chaos unfold without blinking.Her face was calm, unreadable, her thoughts tucked neatly behind her eyes.
She wasn’t nervous.She wasn’t watching the door.And she definitely wasn’t thinking about the man about to walk through it.
Not even a little.
“I just want to make him sweat,” Olivia muttered, applying a final dab of lip gloss.“And I want it on camera.You wrote those questions, Azlyn.If he doesn't squirm, I’m suing you for emotional damages.”
Azlyn arched a brow, her voice light.“They’re a mix of Socratic questions and questions designed to reveal the man behind the reputation, Liv.Not savage, gotcha-moments.”She shifted slightly, still amused by her friend’s nervousness.“If he sweats, it’ll be from the realization that he’s not the smartest person in the room.”
Olivia spun around to glare at Azlyn.“I know.And your research for this interview was stunning.But I just…I want this interview to be brilliant.”
Azlyn opened her mouth, prepared to offer a comforting, supportive reply.But before she could utter a word, the studio door screeched open like a horror movie prop.
Suddenly, blinding sunlight burst through the studio, bathing the black walls in gold.Everyone froze mid-breath, mid-movement—mid-existential crisis.
Azlyn blinked against the brightness, shielding her eyes.
And then she saw him.
He stepped through the doorway with the kind of unconscious certainty that made people stop mid-sentence.Azlyn didn’t move, but every sense snapped to attention.Her brain offered a dozen rational observations—none of them useful.
Because of the sunshine behind him, she couldn’t see his face.Just the silhouette—broad shoulders, long legs, slow swagger.The kind of man who’d order sparkling water and somehow make it sound dirty.
Azlyn’s brain short-circuited.
Nope.Not crushing.Not impressed.This was simply...observational.A data point.Temporary neurological static brought on by symmetry and sunlight.
He stepped forward, and the light behind him dimmed just enough to tease the edge of a jawline that looked carved by gods with an obsessive attention to bone structure.
Olivia made a small choking sound.“Oh no,” she whispered.“He’sprettierin person.”
Azlyn didn’t answer.She was too busy trying to remember how to blink.
This was fine.Everything was fine.
Except that absolutely nothing was going to go according to plan.
The studio door began to close with heavy, deliberate slowness.As the room returned to its darkened state, the man’s features gradually came into focus.Azlyn stifled a gasp as she took in his dark hair, sharp nose, and hard jawline.His eyes, a startling, fascinating dark brown hue, locked onto hers with an intensity that made her heart pound.
He moved closer, his gaze unwavering, and the air in the studio seemed to thicken with tension and awareness.Everyone else was still recovering from the blinding light, but Azlyn felt a magnetic pull, her breath catching in her throat as the man’s piercing eyes bore into hers.
