Hating You Was My Full Time Job

The elevator in Blackwood Tower smelled like money. Leather, expensive cologne, and the kind of quiet that only comes when you know no one in the building is allowed to be late. I hated it. I hated the marble floors. I hated the gold lettering on the wall that said BLACKWOOD CORP. I hated the receptionist who looked at my thrifted blazer like she could smell the desperation on it. Most of all, I hated the man I was about to see. “Name?” the receptionist asked without looking up. “Ava Bennett. I have an interview for the executive assistant position. 2 PM.” She finally glanced at me. Her eyes did a quick scan. My worn-out heels. My bag from last year. The faint dark circles I couldn’t cover with drugstore concealer. “43rd floor,” she said. “Don’t be late.” As if I could be. I’d taken two buses and walked six blocks to make sure I was 15 minutes early. My rent was three weeks overdue. My electricity was scheduled to be cut off tomorrow. And this job paid more in a month than I’d made in the last three months combined. The elevator dinged. I stepped in alone. 43rd floor. My hands were shaking. I clasped them together and stared at the numbers climbing. 10. 20. 30. Three years. It had been three years since I last saw Adrian Blackwood. Three years since I stood in his boardroom, 22 years old and stupid, and tanked his biggest merger with a single email I forwarded to the wrong person. An email that cost him 40 million dollars. An email I laughed about over drinks that night because I was young and angry and didn’t care who I burned. I hadn’t known he was the CEO of the company that owned my internship. I hadn’t known he’d see me. I hadn’t known that the man I called “arrogant jerk” to his face was the son of the man who owned everything. He’d fired me on the spot. Security walked me out. And I’d flipped him off on the way out. The elevator dinged. 43. The doors opened to a floor that looked more like a five-star hotel than an office. Floor to ceiling windows. White furniture. A wall of orchids. And at the end of the hall, double doors made of dark wood with his name on it. ADRIAN BLACKWOOD, CEO My stomach dropped. “Miss Bennett?” A woman in a sharp pantsuit appeared from nowhere. His secretary. She looked like she filed taxes for fun. “Follow me.” I followed. My heels clicked too loud on the marble. I could feel sweat on the back of my neck. She knocked once and opened the door. “Your 2 PM interview, Mr. Blackwood.” “Send her in.” That voice. Low. Smooth. The kind of voice that could sell you a lie and make you thank him for it. I stepped inside. The office was huge. Bigger than my entire apartment. One whole wall was glass, looking out over the city. A massive desk sat in the middle. And behind it, in a chair that probably cost more than my car, sat Adrian Blackwood. He hadn’t changed. Same black suit, tailored to perfection. Same dark hair, slightly messy like he’d run his hands through it. Same sharp jaw and cold gray eyes that missed nothing. He was on a call. He held up one finger. _One minute._ I stood there. He looked up at me. And his pen stopped moving. For one second, nothing. Then recognition flickered in those gray eyes. Just for a second. Then it was gone, replaced by something worse. Amusement. He finished his call. “Yes. Tell them no. I don’t care what they offered. We’re not selling.” He hung up. Leaned back in his chair. Stared at me. “Ava Bennett,” he said. My name in his mouth sounded like a curse. “Well. This is unexpected.” I lifted my chin. “Mr. Blackwood.” “Adrian,” he corrected. “We’re going to be working closely together, after all.” The words hit me like ice water. “Excuse me?” “The executive assistant position.” He gestured to the chair in front of his desk. “Sit.” I didn’t move. “I didn’t know it was for you.” “Didn’t you read the posting? Blackwood Corp. CEO’s office.” He smiled. It didn’t reach his eyes. “Or did you just apply because you were desperate?” I sat. Because I was desperate. Because I needed this job. “I’m here to interview,” I said, voice steady. “That’s all.” “Mm.” He opened a folder. My resume. He’d printed it. Of course he had. “Ava Bennett. Graduated top of your class. Three internships. Then… nothing for three years. Working at a coffee shop. A bookstore. A call center.” He looked up. “What happened?” I hated that he knew. I hated that he could see it. “Life happened,” I said. “Life.” He repeated the word like it was funny. He closed the folder. “Let me be honest with you, Ava.” Here it comes. “I remember you. Very clearly. You cost me 40 million dollars because you couldn’t read an email address.” The room went quiet. “I remember you laughed when security dragged you out,” he continued. “I remember you told me to ‘go to hell’ in front of 20 people.” My face was burning. “I was 22.” “You’re 25 now.” He stood up. He was tall. Taller than I remembered. He walked around the desk and stopped right in front of me. Close enough that I could smell his cologne. Cedar and something expensive. “I could have you blacklisted from every job in this city,” he said softly. “I could make sure you never work in corporate again.” I met his eyes. I wouldn’t cry. I wouldn’t. “Then why did you call me in for an interview?” His lips curved. “Because I’m curious.” “About what?” “About whether the girl who destroyed my deal is the same girl who’s now applying to be my assistant.” He crouched down, so we were eye level. “About whether three years and a few bad jobs taught you how to follow instructions.” I swallowed. “I can do the job.” “I’m sure you can.” His gaze dropped to my hands, clasped tightly in my lap. “But can you handle working for the man you humiliated?” The question hung in the air. I thought about my overdue rent. I thought about the shut-off notice. I thought about my mom’s medical bills that I still hadn’t paid. “Yes,” I said. “I can.” He studied me for a long time. Then he stood and walked back to his desk. “You start Monday. 7 AM. Don’t be late.” I blinked. “That’s it? No questions? No—” “You’ll be managing my calendar, my emails, and my schedule,” he interrupted. “You’ll be the first person in the office and the last to leave. You’ll travel with me. You’ll work weekends. You’ll do whatever I ask.” He paused. “And you’ll hate every second of it.” My heart was pounding. “Why are you doing this?” “Because,” he said, picking up his pen again like I’d already been dismissed, “hating you was my full-time job for three years. Now it’s going to be yours.” The door opened behind me. The secretary. “Miss Bennett? I’ll show you out.” I stood. My legs felt weak. As I reached the door, his voice stopped me. “Oh, and Ava?” I turned. “Welcome aboard.” I didn’t breathe until I was back in the elevator. Until the doors closed and I was alone and I could let my hands shake. I got the job. I got the job working for Adrian Blackwood. The man I ruined. The man who was going to ruin me right back. The elevator descended. Monday. 7 AM. God help me. End of Chapter 1