It sounds weak, but it gets his attention. Slowly, the man raises his head, and light blue eyes lock onto mine.
Everything freezes.
My heart drops like a stone. I stop breathing. No. No, no, no … Those eyes—those unmistakable, icy blue eyes that have haunted me for years, the ones that have lived rent-free in the back of my mind. Eyes that once held a smugness I could never shake off.
Time stops.
My dream of working here shatters like glass, falling in sharp fragments around me. I feel the ground sway beneath my feet, and my stomach flips, forgetting all about gravity.
It’s him. Silas Walker.
My greatest enemy.
Silas
“Good morning ...” Her voice sounds small, but I smile, knowing that Lauren is anything but small; she’s a force to be reckoned with—complex, impossible to ignore. She is Lauren Green. I spent two days planning this interview, wondering if she’d recognize me, if she’d remember our past, if she had me in her thoughts as much as I had her in mine. For two damn days, those answers remained a mystery. The only thing I knew for sure was that I was going to pretend to be busy. I know how much tardinessbothers her, but I also know she’s desperate for this job, according to Stella, and she’s willing to endure whatever I throw at her to get it. That’s a good skill.
I smile widely as I watch her standing across from my desk. Lauren has glowed up since the last time I saw her—and I don't only mean that her body has changed. She carries herself differently and wears clothes that fit her body and highlights all those curves that make my mouth fill with saliva. Back when we were both teens at Willow High School, she wore clothes at least three sizes too big to hide from judgmental gazes. She still seems bothered about what others think. Which is a good thing because I can't take my eyes off her.
Those glasses, damn it.
“Hi, Bunny,” I say with a mischievous smile, watching her jaw drop open.
“No ...” she breathes, stepping back.
Ah, so shedoesremember me. This is my cue to get up and stop her before she leaves my office. I reach her just as she’s about to open the door and close it behind her, locking her in with me.
“Don’t leave. We have some catching up to do,” I say in my calmest voice as I grab her arm and lead her to the sofa in my “modest”office. She pulls away abruptly, anchoring her feet to the carpet. “What are you doing here?”
There’s the Lauren I know.“Last time I checked, this was my company,” I say, sitting down and unbuttoning my suit. “Sit down, Bunny.”
“Don’t call me that,” she says, grinding her teeth. It still clearly bothers her that I use that nickname.
“Alright,Lauren. Come sit down.” I gesture to the white chair in front of me.
She clutches her bag tightly against her chest as if it might shield her from me. It’s amusing that she thinks she can hide now that we’re in the same room again. Slowly, she agrees and sits down.
“So ... you want to work for me?” I ask, my eyes drifting down her legs, those eternal legs I’ve imagined wrapped around my waist a million times.
“No, well, yes, but I didn’t know that ...”
“That this is the company my grandmother founded? That’sstrange; I thought everyone at school knew where my family’s money came from.”
“Not everyone cares about your family, Silas,” she says, finding a bit of courage amidst her panic attack. It’s almost adorable. Though she’s telling the truth; she was the only person at Willow High who didn’t care about my lineage, economic status, or any of the other nonsense that mattered to most people.
“Well, now you know. The company started here in New York.” I gesture around at the luxurious office of Property Group.
Lauren searches her memory for any information she might have collected before coming here, trying to connect my grandmother’s name with me. “I didn’t know you lived here now,” she says.
It irritates me becauseI do knowshe lives in Manhattan. I know everything about her—where she works, what neighborhood she lives in, and her favorite restaurant: a Korean place in Harlem. “I moved here a few years ago when my father relocated Property Group’s headquarters. Thankfully, I was assigned to New York.”
When my dad started to delegate branches to my brothers and me, I thanked my lucky stars that it was Luca who got Florida—humidity, gross. Oliver got Texas—face-melting heat; hard pass. And finally, Killian got California—snobs, vegans, and tree huggers. As for me, I got the city that never sleeps—the city where the rich and famous flaunt their status in the most elegant buildings in the country. This is where I belong. She still looks confused, not understanding how she missed this information.
“Do you plan to remain silent throughout the rest of the interview?” Pushing her like this comes naturally to me.
“I don’t want this interview. I thought I was meeting someone different. I don’t plan to work for you,” she says, the girl I knew from school resurfacing.
“Oh, come on, Lauren. You can’t stay stuck in the past. I thought working here was your ‘dream’,” I say, making air quotes and raising an eyebrow.
