Chapter Seven
1360 Words
Emma had just set her bag on her cubicle desk when an elderly woman appeared.
“Mr. Rask requested you sit elsewhere, dear. Come along.”
Her heart sank. She forced a smile at Rory and Jake before following. Relief hit when she saw it wasn’t a broom closet but a proper workstation. The relief vanished when she noticed the flaw: her desk faced Sebastian’s office, his glass wall exposing him completely. At that moment, he was standing with hands in his pockets, watching her.
A small gesture with his fingers summoned her inside.
She narrowed her eyes but obeyed.
Sebastian didn’t turn when she entered, still looking out at Central Park. “We’re alone now, Ms. Rhodes. You can drop the brave act.”
Silence.
He finally glanced back, surprised she hadn’t answered. “Hmm. Maybe you do know when to keep quiet.”
Emma’s jaw ached from how tightly she held it. He smirked at the tension in her stance, then sat at his desk, flipping open a file.
“Emma Rhodes. Age twenty-three. GPA: 4.0. Bachelor’s in Architecture and Business, pursuing a Master’s.” He shut the folder. “Impressive. On paper.”
His gaze cut back to her. “But since the moment we met, you’ve done nothing but disrespect me. Was that your plan? To get my attention? If so—congratulations. You have it. Just not in the way you’d like.”
Emma’s composure slipped. “Your attention isn’t something I ever wanted,” she muttered.
“What was that?”
She met his stare, forcing a tight smile. “Nothing, sir. Just waiting for your next insult.”
His eyes narrowed. “I’m not a forgiving man.”
“I know. I learned that the hard way—at the airport.”
The memory flickered across his expression, guilt flashing before he smothered it.
“Yet you still signed the contract,” he said. “Knowing exactly what I’m capable of. Brave? Or stupid?”
Emma steadied her breathing. “Neither. I’m terrified of you—your arrogance, your ruthlessness. But my father taught me never to run from fear. Only to face it.”
They stared each other down, neither yielding.
“Then you’ll fight every day to stay here,” Sebastian said finally.
“Life itself is a battle. And this one I’ll fight.”
“You’re too proud. That pride will destroy you.”
“Or it will be the reason I survive.”
For the first time, he had no quick retort. Frustration drove him to his feet.
“South wing. Broken pipe. Go supervise. Make sure it’s handled.”
Emma blinked. “I don’t know anything about pipes.”
“I don’t care. Consider it your first test.”
She turned to leave.
“And Ms. Rhodes—two o’clock meeting. Be late, and don’t bother coming at all.”
The south wing smelled faintly of metal and dust. Emma found the workers already bickering over pipes. She explained her presence with a self-deprecating smile.
“My boss doesn’t want me to help—just to watch. So… don’t mind me.”
The men chuckled and returned to work. But minutes later, a pipe burst with a deafening c***k. A torrent of icy water slammed into Emma, soaking her head to toe before they wrestled the valve shut.
Shivering, she turned—only to find Sebastian in the doorway. Hands in his pockets. That damn smile tugging at his lips. A few employees hovered behind him, whispering.
“Meeting. Room Three,” he announced.
“Sir—can I change first?”
“Of course. But if you’re late, don’t bother. Pack your things and mail me the ten-million-dollar check.”
Emma bit back a glare and ran for the bathroom.
She dried herself as best she could, then slipped into the meeting just in time. Sebastian’s brows flicked upward. He’d expected her to fail.
Instead, she sat upright, hair damp, shirt clinging, taking notes as if nothing had happened. Her wet blouse drew the attention of every man in the room. Heat coiled in Sebastian’s stomach—an unwelcome distraction he tried to bury.
“Isn’t it hot in here?” he said suddenly, loosening his tie.
“In January?” the advisor frowned.
Sebastian shrugged, lowering the thermostat. Emma hugged herself tighter as the vents blasted cold air. He waited for her to c***k, but she didn’t.
His irritation shifted into something else when he noticed her trembling. Quietly, without comment, he nudged the temperature back up.
Emma blinked, realizing the chill had eased. She glanced up, catching him in the act. Their eyes locked. He looked away too quickly, confirming her suspicion.
The big oaf has a heart after all, she thought, hiding a smile.
The meeting wrapped with assignments for the Sao Paulo project. As Emma gathered her files, a blond intern offered a hand.
“Vance. Nice to meet you.”
“Emma.”
They walked out together, chatting. His grin lingered on her a moment too long.
From his office, Sebastian watched, jaw tight. She smiled at Vance. Never at him.
He picked up the phone, dialing her extension.
“MY OFFICE. NOW.”
Emma stared at the phone for a moment, her jaw tightening. She almost laughed—it figured. She had just survived a burst pipe, a humiliating meeting in a soaked shirt, and now the devil himself wanted her in his office again.
Her feet felt heavy as she crossed the floor, aware of the curious glances that followed her. When she reached the glass wall, Sebastian was already seated at his desk, jacket off, tie loosened, looking as though summoning her had been nothing more than an afterthought.
“Sit.” He didn’t look up from the papers in front of him.
Emma sat, back stiff, determined not to give him the satisfaction of seeing her flinch.
Sebastian set down his pen and leaned back in his chair, studying her. “You’re persistent. I’ll give you that. Most interns would have quit by now.”
“I’m not most interns,” she said evenly.
A slow smile curved his mouth. “No, you’re not. Which is why I’m curious to see how long it takes before you break.”
Emma refused to respond.
Sebastian tapped a stack of papers on his desk, aligning them with irritating precision. “Since you claim to be fearless, I’ve decided to give you an additional assignment. Something that should be well within your… talents.”
Her stomach sank. Here it comes.
“You will personally reorganize the materials storage room on the lower level,” he said smoothly. “Every blueprint, every supply list, every file. They’re a disaster. I want them cataloged, cross-referenced, and color-coded by the end of the week.”
Emma blinked. “You’re asking me to… clean your storage closet?”
“Not clean.” His voice carried mock offense. “Reorganize. It’s called responsibility, Ms. Rhodes. A leader doesn’t only design buildings—he knows where every piece of information is stored. Consider this a lesson.”
Her lips twitched. “A lesson in filing cabinets?”
His gaze darkened, but there was the faintest trace of amusement in his eyes. “Careful.”
Emma folded her arms, tilting her head. “I suppose you want it done alphabetically too? Or maybe by the phase of the moon?”
Sebastian’s smirk returned. “Surprise me.”
They stared at each other, a battle of wills in the silence between them. Finally, Emma stood, gathering what little dignity she could.
“Fine. I’ll reorganize your precious storage room. And when it’s perfect, you’ll have to find some other way to waste my time.”
He leaned forward, voice soft, dangerous. “Don’t worry, Ms. Rhodes. I never run out of way.”
Emma walked out without another word, her pulse racing. She refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing just how much he got under her skin.
Behind her, Sebastian allowed himself the smallest of smiles. She hadn’t broken yet. But he would make sure she did.
- Writer
