Sianna
AS THE CAB PULLED UPto the curb, I stared out the window at Princeton Incorporated. The large silver and glass building, with its unique lighting, stood out among the other corporate offices flanking the monstrosity. I’d spent the last two weeks avoiding my aunt's nagging and hounding recruitment agencies with persistent emails of my cv and follow up calls to no avail. The only positions available now were temporary. But they wanted a reason why I’d left a permanent job position. ‘Fired’ wasn’t an option most agencies considered viable for their clients.
Thanks to Ruvash’s promise of Knicks box seat tickets, his friend, Jenna, promised to find me something. Surprisingly, she’d called an hour ago, having secured me an interview slot at Princeton Incorporated with no guarantee of a job. The last-minute call gave me ten minutes to dress and another forty-five minutes to get my ass to Manhattan. There wasn’t time to do a quick google search of the company either, since my aunt monitored my computer use. According to her, I watched porn in her absence. As luck would have it and having not anticipated Jenna’s call, I hadn’t charged my phone. It left me with one bar, which killed that option of searching the company history in the cab. I had to save it in case of an emergency, given my recent unlucky streak. On the plus side, Jenna said the woman I was meeting would understand. Due to the last-minute request, and especially with the holidays looming, they were desperate.
I paid the driver and slammed the door. Awed by the modern building's impressive architecture, the sudden tug on my ruffle skirt and what followed took a moment to register. I turned, catching sight of the garment, snagged in the door of the cab.Oh shit.“Hey, wait,” I yelled, but the car was already moving, and the driver couldn’t hear me. Desperate, I tugged at the skirt while jerking the handle of the locked door. Another second and he floored the accelerator. My eyes widened, and horrified, I watched him drive off, taking half the ruffle of my skirt with him. Frozen, I couldn’t take my eyes off the cab until the taillights disappeared. Mechanically my gaze dropped to my now exposed legs draped by frayed pieces of material like streamers on a Christmas tree.
I bit my tongue, holding back the scream that threatened to burst out of my chest. “This shit is not happening right now,” I muttered instead. My vision blurred, and for one stupid moment, I stared at my watch, resisting the urge to stomp my feet. Twenty minutes before my interview, and there I stood, nerves frazzled, wearing my best interview outfit in shreds. If that wasn’t enough, the abrupt chill of the evening gave me a conscious kick up the ass, reminding me that I’d forgotten my coat in the cab. “Jesus, Sia, you’re such a dumb shit.” Covering my face with my hands, I shook my head in frustration. “God, what do I do now?” I couldn’t walk into an interview looking like I was ready for a position at some strip club.
The unexpected weight on my shoulders had me whipping around. I gasped. Stunned speechless, I stared. Although I’d only seen him once, his was a face I’d never forget. There was no mistaking the desire lurking within those silver depths shrouded in mystery I wanted to explore.Tell me your secrets. I wanted to say. Instead, I offered a hesitant smile.
A lazy smirk slid across his full lips. “Hello, Ella?” the deep voice rolled over me as smooth as finely tempered chocolate.
Ella? I frowned, feeling the heavy coat he’d placed on my shoulders. “H-hello.”
“We meet again.” His gaze dropped to my torn skirt.
“More like you rescuing me again,” I uttered a nervous laugh pulling the coat to cover my bare thighs. What were the chances of being rescued by the same person in two hugely different situations?
“Can’t say I’m not pleased.”
He laughed—the low, husky sound resonated through my body, rousing goosebumps. Something about him made it impossible to look away. The way he held himself, the power of his build, almost regal in appearance and starkly contrasted by how the silken strands of dark brown hair matched the silver flecks in his beard. But it was the look in those translucent eyes that somehow reminded me of a caged wolf. Wary within the confines of its walls yet eager to devour when released.
I shivered. Not from fear but the idea of what desires a man like him would unleash. Startled by my runaway thoughts, I smiled. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure, Ella. Although I must say, I preferred the thank you I received at the airport.”
Hot color stained my cheeks. I shifted my weight from one foot to the other. “Why are you calling me Ella?”
“Do you believe in fate? Princesses do.”
Ella? Princesses?Was he likening me to Cinderella? Considering my recent spate of unfortunate events, I wouldn’t put it past him if he did.
Glancing at his watch, he offered me a twitch of a smile. “I have an urgent appointment now, but I have a feeling we’ll meet again.” He walked toward his beautiful car parked at the curb.
I stared at him for a minute before realization dawned. “Wait,” I called out, nearing him. “Your coat?”
About to slide behind the wheel, he turned. “I think you need it more than I do.” His gaze rested briefly on my skirt, peeking through the coat opening.
“B-but how will I return it. I don’t even know your name,” I whispered.
“Give me your mobile.”
“My mobile?” I asked. He nodded. Confused, I opened my bag. Retrieving the phone, I unlocked the screen and handed it over. Distracted by his attractiveness, I wondered what I’d done to deserve his kindness. So far, everything was going against me. We hardly shared any words, but his appearance was like a breath of fresh air in my dull life, almost like the prince charming I’d wished for occasionally to rescue me from my depressing life.
“Here.” He handed the phone back. “Until we meet again.”
I smiled, watching him climb into his car. When he drove off, I glanced at my phone. A small laugh seeped past my lips. He’d saved his number as ‘Prince.’ Noticing the time on the phone, I shrieked, “shit.” I was late by three minutes, to be precise. Tugging the lapels of the large coat, I buttoned it, rolled the long sleeves above my wrists while running down the marble-tiled path to the office entrance.
The only available time slots for the interview was seven in the evening. Unperturbed, I’d accepted, expecting to arrive early. A night guard approached, tagged an access card to a console I couldn’t see, and pulled open the glass doors. “Can I help you?”
“Yes, please. I have an appointment with Miss Tamara Princeton.”
“Wait there, please.” He gestured to the foyer then returned to the reception desk. A couple of seconds later, he looked up. “She’ll be down shortly.”
“Thank you.” I sank into one of the plush sofas. My gaze swept the reception area. Soft cream and white walls, broken intermittently by pastel shades of peach and green paintings, gave the room a luxurious atmosphere—everything bespoke style and sophistication. A company dealing with high-end jewelry would ensure their standards were extraordinary.
