The Boss I'd Rather Forget

Welcome To Sterling Group

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*Chapter 2*

Wren took a deep breath and straightened her blazer one last time. The fabric still smelled faintly of the fabric softener Lyra always used. She pressed her palm flat against the cool glass of the revolving door and whispered to herself,

“You’ve got this.”

Then she pushed through.

The moment she stepped inside, cool air wrapped around her like a soft welcome. It carried the faint scent of fresh lilies and something expensive — probably the kind of perfume that came in a heavy glass bottle.

The lobby stretched out in front of her, wide and bright and impossibly clean.

Employees in crisp shirts and tailored skirts moved across the marble floor with the quiet confidence of people who belonged here. Their footsteps echoed lightly. Conversations floated past in low, professional tones.

Wren’s heart beat a little faster.

This was real. She was actually standing inside Sterling Group.

She made her way toward the reception desk, trying not to stare too openly at everything.

A young woman in a navy-blue blazer looked up from her computer and offered a warm smile.

“Good morning. How may I help you?”

“Good morning.” Wren returned the smile and handed over the folded appointment letter she had checked three times that morning. “I’m one of the newly hired employees.”

The receptionist scanned the paper quickly, then looked up again.

“You’re Miss Wren Carter, correct?”

“Yes.”

“You’ve been assigned to the Design Department. Welcome to Sterling Group.” She picked up the phone. “Mr. Magnus, could you please come to the lobby? Your new colleague has arrived.”

A few moments later, a tall man approached them. He looked to be in his early thirties, with neatly combed black hair and an easy smile that reached his eyes. An employee ID badge hung from a black lanyard around his neck.

“I’m Magnus,” he said, extending his hand. “I’ll be showing you around today.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” Wren shook his hand. His grip was firm but friendly. “Thank you.”

They started walking. Wren found herself glancing in every direction, trying to take it all in without looking like a tourist.

“This place is incredible…” she murmured.

Magnus chuckled. “What was that?”

“Oh — nothing.” She smiled, a little embarrassed. “I was just saying it’s beautiful. Actually… beautiful doesn’t even feel like the right word.”

The marble floor was so polished she could see the soft reflection of her own shoes moving beneath her. _The cleaner must be doing a great job,_ she thought.

Cream-colored sofas were arranged in quiet conversation areas, each one paired with a low table holding a vase of fresh white flowers. Large paintings hung on the walls — abstract pieces in soft blues and warm golds that somehow made the modern space feel less cold.

Floor-to-ceiling windows let in long stretches of morning sunlight, turning the whole lobby golden. Everything looked expensive. Everything looked deliberate.

Magnus noticed her staring and smiled with quiet pride.

“What did you expect? This is Sterling Group — the number one technology company in Braman.”

Wren nodded. “I’ve heard so much about this place. Now I understand why everyone dreams of working here.”

“That’s one of the reasons I’ve stayed for six years,” he said. His tone was light, but there was real affection in it.

Something in his easy manner made the tight knot in Wren’s chest loosen a little. _I don’t think I’ll have any problems working here,_ she thought.

The thought pulled up an older memory — one she usually tried not to revisit.

Her last interview had been a complete disaster.

She had walked into that small, windowless room determined to stay calm. The interviewer had been a man in his thirties with thin glasses and a smile that never quite reached his eyes. She had recognized him the moment he looked up from her résumé. He was the same man who had broken her friend’s heart two years earlier — the one who had ghosted her after six months and left her crying on Wren’s couch for three nights straight.In which Wren went to fight for her.

Wren had decided, very maturely, to pretend she didn’t know him. She would be professional. She would answer every question with grace. But deep down she knows she can't get the job.

That plan lasted about four minutes.

The man adjusted his glasses, cleared his throat dramatically, and said,

“Miss Wren… if you were a tree, what kind of tree would you be?”

She blinked.

“…Excuse me?”

“What kind of tree would you be? And why?”

In her head, she had already climbed across the desk, grabbed him by the collar, and kicked him straight into next week. _I’ll be a hawthorn tree,_ she thought furiously, _so my branches can poke some sense into that empty head of yours._

Out loud, she had only managed a polite, “I think I’d be—”

“Next question,” he interrupted, as if her answer had already bored him.

Then came the follow-up:

“Describe the color blue to someone who has never seen it.”

Wren had sat there in stunned silence, wondering if she had accidentally walked into a comedy sketch instead of a job interview. She forced a smile, answered as best she could, thanked him, and walked out with whatever dignity she had left.

The second the elevator doors closed, she had stamped her foot and muttered, “What kind of ridiculous interview was that?”

She still laughed about it sometimes — usually when she needed to remind herself that not every opportunity was meant for her.

But this place felt different.

Sterling Group already felt like somewhere she might actually belong.

Magnus led her into a glass elevator that climbed smoothly toward the upper floors. Through the transparent walls, she watched the lobby shrink below them until the people looked like moving dots. When the doors opened on the fifteenth floor, the atmosphere shifted again — quieter, more focused. Soft carpet muffled their footsteps. Cubicles and open workstations stretched out in clean lines, interrupted by glass-walled meeting rooms and the occasional potted plant that looked far too healthy to be real.

“This is the Design Department,” Magnus said. “You’ll be working with a small team under the senior design lead."

Wren nodded, trying to take it all in. Her fingers tightened slightly around the strap of her bag.

She had worked so hard for this. Late nights. Early mornings. The quiet fear that maybe she wasn’t good enough. And now she was here — standing in the middle of the very place she had only ever seen in photographs and carefully worded job listings.

Magnus glanced at her and smiled again, softer this time.

“First days are always a little overwhelming. You’ll settle in faster than you think.”

“I hope so,” she said, and meant it.

He gestured toward a row of desks near the windows. “That’s where you’ll be sitting. There’s a temporary login waiting for you, and HR already sent your onboarding packet to your company email. Once you’re settled, I’ll take you to meet the team lead.”

Wren followed him, her steps slower now, almost careful. She set her bag down on the empty desk and rested her hands on the back of the chair. Outside the wide windows, the city stretched out in every direction — glass towers, distant traffic, a sky that was already turning a deeper blue.

She touched the silver watch on her wrist without thinking.

_You made it,_ she told herself quietly. _You’re actually here._

And somewhere in the back of her mind, a small, stubborn hope stirred — the hope that this time, things might finally go right.

She had no idea that the man she had spent years trying to forget was only a few floors above her, walking into the very same building she had just entered.

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