Pretending To Be His

Two : Hard To Impress

Aria arrived at the office the next morning, feeling a heavy weight in her chest from a rough night sleep. Stepping through the glass doors of her firm, she forced a smile at the receptionist and made her way to her desk, trying to shake off the lingering cloud of disappointment. It’s just one client, she told herself, though the pit in her stomach disagreed. Grayson Stone wasn’t just any client—he had been the key to her end of year bonus, the golden goose that would have secured her a victory.

She slid into her chair, her eyes scanning over the endless emails waiting for her attention. Just as she was about to dive into work, her email pinged with a message from her boss, Marcus.

Meeting in 10 minutes. Conference room.

Her body slumped. A meeting? Now? She had hoped for a low-key day to lick her wounds, not face whatever critique or update Marcus had planned. With a sigh, she grabbed her tablet and headed toward the conference room, her steps slower than usual. As she entered, the low hum of conversation among her coworkers greeted her as they casually discussed their latest projects, oblivious to her presence as she slipped into a seat at the far end of the table.

Marcus, her boss, stood at the head of the table, flipping through his slides as he normally did before starting. Aria sat quietly, pretending to review her own notes, but her thoughts were miles away, stuck on her failed pitch to Grayson Stone. The sting of rejection hadn’t lessened overnight and she could still feel the cool dismissal in his voice, the way his gaze had sized her up before he ruthlessly cut down her work.

“Morning, everyone.” Marcus began, calling the room to attention. “I want to go over the latest project updates and check in on our progress. We’re coming up to the final quarter and we all know how important it is to finish the year strong.”

Aria knew exactly what that meant. The company offered a sizable end-of-year bonus for the architect who brought in the most high-value contracts and it was that competition that drove everyone in the room. She had been gunning for that bonus, too—hoping the Stone project would push her ahead, but now, with Grayson’s rejection, she felt that goal slipping further away.

“Well, I just finalized the Baxter Tower deal. That’s another big one for the firm.” Ryan, one of the senior architects, announced. “The contracts are signed and they’re thrilled with my designs. Said it’s the best ones they’ve ever seen.”

“That’s great, Ryan.” Marcus praised. “Baxter Tower is a major project.”

Aria bit the inside of her cheek, keeping her face neutral. She wasn’t surprised that Ryan had sealed another deal but the way he said it—loud enough to ensure everyone in the room knew—was like a jab.

Another colleague, Peter whistled. “Baxter Tower? Nice, Ryan. I myself have just wrapped up the Meridian Heights contract. They were blown away by the designs I made.”

“Meridian Heights is impressive.” Marcus agreed, nodding. “Well done.”

The pit in Aria’s stomach deepened, but she kept her expression impassive. She stayed silent as they continued to discuss their recent wins, subtly flaunting their accomplishments. It was clear she was falling behind because she had foolishly pinned her hopes on the Stone project, hoping it would be her ticket to levelling the playing field. But now that plan had crumbled and without a backup in place, she was unsure if she'd ever catch up.

Ryan turned slightly, glancing in her direction with a glint in his eyes that made her stomach tighten. “What about you, Aria? How’s everything going with your projects? I heard you had a big pitch recently.”

The words hung in the air, deceptively polite, but Aria knew better. She could feel the weight of their attention on her, the subtle edge beneath his question. They all knew about her failed meeting with Grayson Stone. It was no secret, especially in an office where whispers travelled fast and failures—even minor ones—were magnified under a microscope. Ryan, with his smirk and casual inquiry, was baiting her. She met his gaze, face expressionless, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing how much the question stung.

“It didn’t work out.” She said simply, tone cool and flat, keeping it as neutral as possible.

Ryan nodded and for a moment she saw it—the flicker of triumph in his eyes, the satisfaction of watching her admit it aloud. A ghost of a smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth as he leaned back in his chair, his expression deceptively sympathetic.

“That’s tough.” He said, his voice dripping with faux concern. “But, you know, Grayson only accepts the best. Don’t let it get to you.”

The words were like a slap with a thinly veiled undertone that insinuated exactly what he thought of her work. He only accepts the best. The implication was clear: she wasn’t good enough. Her failure was proof of that in his eyes and her fingers tightened around the edges of her tablet, wanting to slap that smug smile off his face. Peter, sitting across from her, leaned forward, his smile just as false as Ryan’s.

“I may have a few easy contracts I could pass your way, if you like.” He offered.

“Thanks, but I’m already working on my next pitch.” She declined, her voice betraying none of the anger simmering beneath her calm facade.

The lie slid easily from her tongue, but she could tell by their knowing glances they didn’t believe it one bit. If she said anything to call out their attitude, if she challenged them on their remarks, it would come off as oversensitive or defensive. It was just an offer, Peter would say. I was just trying to help. And Ryan? He’d shrug it off with that same smug smile, claiming he was just making conversation. But Aria could feel the undertones, the way they looked down on her, not just because she had lost the Grayson contract, but because she was her.

The only woman in a room full of men who still saw her as a novelty, an outsider in their boys’ club. They weren’t outright hostile, they were too clever for that, but the subtle ways they undermined her—the patronizing smiles, the comments about her projects, the way they tried to pass off the easier, less important work—made it clear they didn’t see her as their equal. They were too polite to say it aloud, but the message was there all the same: she wasn’t a real threat to them. Not in the way they were to each other. In their minds, she was playing at their level, but she didn’t truly belong there. Not yet.

Maybe not ever.

It made her skin prickle with frustration, but Aria wasn’t going to rise to their bait. She wasn’t going to let them drag her into a petty exchange, not when they were so clearly hoping for it. Instead, she sat there, poised and composed, refusing to give them the satisfaction of seeing her rattled.

“Stone’s a hard client to impress.” Jackson added, his voice carrying a note of finality as if he was delivering some sage advice she hadn’t already figured out. “He can be pretty intimidating, even to the best of us.”

Aria’s grip tightened around her tablet, her knuckles almost white with the effort to keep her calm. She felt the simmering heat of frustration bubbling under the surface but kept her polite smile firmly in place, fighting to maintain the façade of composure. Let them gloat, she thought, her internal voice brimming with determination. Let them have their moment, because she wasn’t done yet. Not even close.

“I’m aware. I was the one to meet him, after all.” She said, her eyes meeting Jackson’s without wavering.

The conversation shifted back to their own contracts, their own wins, as if her moment had come and gone, as if she were no longer relevant. She sat there, listening to them discuss their latest successes—their tones dripping with pride, their words filled with subtle jabs that served as reminders of their superiority. Each remark was a gentle, calculated push to remind her that she was falling behind, losing the race for the coveted end-of-year bonus. And they all knew it.

The weight of their smug glances and their thinly veiled mockery pressed down on her like an unbearable burden, but she remained silent, her face unreadable. She wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction of seeing her falter. She could feel their condescension, the way they pretended to be supportive while quietly relishing her failure. But she wasn’t going to let them break her. Let them think I’m out of the running, she thought fiercely. They could mock her, condescend to her, pretend like she wasn’t a real contender. But Aria knew better. She was biding her time, working silently, building toward something bigger. And when her chance finally came—and it would—she would throw it back in their faces just as hard.

With her back straight and her head high, she remained poised, even as their words continued to sting like barbs under her skin.

They’ll see. One day soon, they’d have no choice but to acknowledge her. She wouldn’t just prove them wrong; she’d make sure they regretted ever doubting her.