Chapter Two - The Wrong Partner
891 Words
The elevator up to the top floor was like entering another dimension.The steel walls were polished and seemed to reflect her face back at her, nervous, determined, not showing an ounce of the storm within. Soft jazz filled the air from unseen speakers, the sort of music meant to calm but actually exaggerating the rapid thud of her heart. Even the silence was heavy as though expectation itself pressed down with every floor she passed.
Natalie smoothed out the front of her black silk blouse and pursed her lips.
This was it. The dream job.
Months of interviews. Endless portfolio reviews. Nights painting until dawn on samples that she believed were the only way for her to get her foot in the door. She still recalled the day the call came through, how her knees had given way and she’d slumped against the wall of her breadbox of an apartment, phone jammed up against her ear, tears sliding down her cheeks as the voice on the other end told her she was in.
Her victory.
But victories, she understood, could turn to ash
The elevator chimed. The doors opened onto a reception area that could double as a minimalist temple, white marble floors so polished they practically glowed, walls hung with bold, modern art perched so precariously she wanted to run them over with her fingers. Even the air, it seemed, smelled expensive, some faint mixture of leather and sandalwood.
The receptionist, a woman so sleek she could have been plucked from a magazine spread, gave her the smile she must have rehearsed a million times already. “Ms. King. Welcome, you’ll meet your project partner in conference Room B, he’s waiting.”
Natalie shifted the strap of her portfolio case and gave a stiff nod before turning to walk down the hallway. Each step was loud on the marble, sending her anticipation soaring. She took a breath and hung on the handle to balance herself and swung the door open.
She froze.
Liam Cole,
He sat slouched with the casual comfort of a man who commanded every room he walked into - sleeves rolled up, showing lean, tanned forearms, an espresso cup perched nonchalantly in his hand. He turned his head slowly, deliberately, looking up at her, and the corner of his mouth twisted into a smile that wasn’t exactly friendly.
As if he’d been waiting for her all this time.
“Good morning, partner,” he drawled.
Natalie’s spine went stiff. Her pulse stuttered. She forced the words out. “No. Absolutely not.”
“Afraid so.” His tone was enragingly calm. “Guess we’re stuck with each other.”
.A hundred thoughts crashed through her mind at once. The label Steele & Co. had been one of the most powerful luxury empires on the globe, a byword for prestige and influence. It was more than a job, serving as the lead art consultant on their new flagship campaign. It was a golden ticket, the sort of break most artists could only fantasize about.
Walking away was not an option for her.
But facing Liam Cole - cousin of the man who took everything from her three years ago - was like stepping onto a chessboard whose king was her sworn enemy. And Liam? He was the knight, the unpredictable and dangerous one.
Her voice cooled to steel. “What exactly is this project?”
Liam leaned back,swirling what was left of his espresso in a manner that suggested he had all the time in the world. “A global rebranding initiative. High-profile. High stakes. The board wants us to balance art and commerce, tradition and disruption.”
She raised a brow. “And you’re what? The disruption?”
His smile widened, slow and maddening. “Something like that.”
The meeting began. Charts. Strategy outlines. Budget projections that made her head hurt. Yet beneath the dry corporate talk, a current pulsed between them sharp, unspoken, electric. She felt his gaze brushing over her when she was bent over the documents, measuring, assessing. More than once, She caught him watching her when he thought she wasn’t looking Worse still, once or twice she caught herself looking back.
It was a calculation, she told herself. Nothing more.
By the time they wrapped, her temples throbbed. She gathered her notes with deliberate calm, telling herself that she would just remember to keep it professional, keep it distant, and never let him see past the armor.
But the universe wasn’t done taunting her. In the elevator ride down, the polished steel walls trapped them in too-small silence. Liam shifted just enough for his shoulder to brush against hers whether accidental or deliberate, she couldn’t tell. She inhaled sharply, turning her face toward the glowing numbers.
Then his voice caressed her ear, low and sure.
“You and I,” he whispered, “are going to change history.”
Natalie’s throat tightened. She wanted to snap back, to cut him down with the kind of retort that would remind him exactly who he was dealing with. But the words caught on. Because history, she knew, wasn’t just about victoriesIt was also about casualties.
Natalie didn’t answer. She was too busy wondering if history would remember them as partners… or as the first casualties in a war neither of them had yet named.
- Writer
