The Worst Kind Of Surprise
1118 Words
Zara’s heels clicked against the pristine marble floors of Wolfe Enterprises as she stepped through the glass doors, her portfolio clutched tightly in her hands. The building oozed wealth—tall ceilings, clean lines, and a polished reception desk that looked more like art than furniture. A soft scent of cologne and something woody hung in the air, not overpowering, but expensive. She took a deep breath, trying to calm the rapid beat of her heart.
You’ve got this, she told herself, adjusting her blazer.
She approached the receptionist—a young woman with a headset and a high ponytail so sleek it looked sprayed into place. “Good morning. I’m Zara Morgan. I have an interview scheduled for 10 a.m.”
The woman nodded, tapped a few keys, and gave her a polite smile. “Yes, Ms. Morgan. Please take the elevator to the 20th floor. Mr. Wolfe will see you shortly.”
Zara blinked. “Mr. Wolfe?” Her brain took a second to connect the dots. Wolfe Enterprises… Mr. Wolfe… Oh right. CEO. Of course.
She nodded and thanked her before walking toward the gleaming elevator. As the doors slid open, she stepped inside, alone, and pressed the button. Her nerves were settling now. She could handle interviews. She’d done harder things in life. This was just a formality.
The elevator chimed softly, stopping at the 20th floor. The doors opened into a wide, minimalist hallway, lined with glass offices and art pieces that screamed “expensive taste.” A woman in a gray pencil skirt stood waiting.
“Ms. Morgan?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“I’m Linda. Mr. Wolfe’s assistant. Right this way.”
Zara followed her down the hallway, her eyes quickly scanning the space. The view through the windows was dizzying—endless city skyline and tiny cars far below. She was so focused on keeping her cool that she didn’t notice the heavy office door ahead until Linda opened it.
She stepped through, chin lifted, smile ready—and then her heart stopped.
Zara Morgan was frozen in place. Her breath caught in her throat as she stood at the threshold of the CEO’s office, staring into the eyes of the man who had spilled coffee all over her blouse just yesterday—and who she’d promptly told off in the middle of a crowded café.
It couldn’t be.
It shouldn’t be.
But there he was. The arrogant man with the smirk and the impossibly tailored suit. Except now, he wasn’t just some random jerk in an overpriced jacket. He was Aiden Wolfe—CEO of Wolfe Enterprises, billionaire tycoon, and the reason she had rehearsed her interview answers all night.
She blinked, half expecting the vision to vanish. It didn’t.
Aiden looked just as shocked—but only for a moment. Then, as if the universe hadn’t just tilted sideways, he leaned back in his leather chair and gave her a slow, calculated smile.
“Well,” he said smoothly, “I didn’t expect our next meeting to happen quite this soon.”
Zara felt her stomach drop.
Oh, God. He remembers.
And from that amused glint in his eyes, he definitely wasn’t going to let her forget it.
“I—um,” she cleared her throat, trying to salvage whatever dignity she had left. “I didn’t know you were…this.”
Aiden arched a brow. “This?”
“You know what I mean.” She tried not to shift on her feet. “The CEO.”
“Well, if I had known you were applying here,” he said, his smirk deepening, “I would’ve made sure you had fresh coffee this morning. Preferably not on your shirt this time.”
Zara forced a tight smile. “Appreciated.”
There was a pause—a thick, charged moment where neither of them spoke. The silence was deafening, stretching too long to be comfortable but too loaded to ignore.
“Ms. Morgan,” Aiden said at last, folding his hands atop his desk, “do sit down. You’re here for an interview, not a reunion.”
She did as told, even though her entire body was stiff with unease. She couldn’t believe she’d insulted her potential boss. And not just insulted—humiliated him in public. Loudly. Passionately. With hand gestures.
And now, she was sitting across from him, praying that he wouldn’t throw her out just to get even.
But Aiden didn’t look vengeful. He looked… amused. Curious, even.
Zara met his gaze head-on. If this was some test to rattle her, she wouldn’t let him win. She had worked too hard to get this far.
“I understand if this changes your decision about the interview,” she said, her voice steady despite the storm inside her. “But I’m here for the job. I’m qualified, and I think I’d be an asset to this company.”
His eyes flickered with something unreadable. “Confident. I like that.”
“Not confident. Just prepared.”
“Humble, too. Impressive.”
She didn’t know whether he was mocking her or genuinely impressed. Maybe both.
He studied her for a long moment. “Tell me something, Ms. Morgan. Do you always speak your mind like you did yesterday?”
“Only when I’m doused in scalding coffee and blamed for it,” she said without missing a beat.
His laugh was low and surprising. “Fair.”
He leaned back again, tapping a pen against his desk. “I’ve read your résumé. Impressive background. Marketing, communications, a stint in New York. You’re clearly capable.”
Zara relaxed slightly. “Thank you.”
“But,” he added, tilting his head, “you do know this department is demanding. It requires grace under pressure. Discipline. Thick skin.”
“I’ve handled worse,” she said simply.
“Oh, I don’t doubt that,” Aiden replied, his gaze flicking down briefly before returning to hers. “The question is—can you handle me?”
It wasn’t flirtation. Not quite. It was more like a challenge. A test. And Zara recognized it for what it was.
“I guess we’ll find out,” she said, lifting her chin.
He smiled, slow and deliberate. “Indeed.”
He stood and extended his hand. “Welcome to Wolfe Enterprises, Ms. Morgan.”
Zara hesitated before taking it. His grip was firm, warm, and just like their earlier encounter—undeniably electric.
She didn’t know whether she wanted to slap him again… or kiss him.
Whatever this was, it wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.
And something deep inside her—some reckless, irrational part—almost welcomed the chaos.
- Writer
