The first day.
“Hold the door!”
I watched the elevator doors close right in front of me.
It’s my first day at my new job.
I was running as fast as I could in high heels and a tight dress. I’ve never felt comfortable in tight clothes — not for the past five years — but I know that’s what people wear in an office.
Yesterday, I bought the dress I’m wearing. It’s Chanel, so it was expensive, but I really wanted to make a good first impression. It’s light blue with long sleeves and a skirt that follows my body down to my knees. The heels are black, my bag is black, and everything else is either black or white.
My feet hurt, screaming in protest from how tight the shoes are. I should have worn running shoes if I wanted to get here on time — these heels are killing me. Everything takes so much longer in them.
I cannot be late on my first day.
Today I start as an assistant to Mark Dailor in the design department at Black Design. The interview was just three days ago. He called me two hours later to ask if I could start on Monday. I was so happy. This has been my dream since I studied fashion and design.
I haven’t been back in town in over five years. Five long years without my family or friends — especially Nina. Now Leo and I live in a small but cute apartment. Two bedrooms and a cozy living room. It’s enough for us. Leo is four, turning five in two months. He’s been my rock since the day he was born.
I won’t lie — being a single mother has been hard. We’ve dealt with rumors and judgment from parents who looked down on me for raising Leo alone. The past five years have been tougher than I imagined.
But Leo is smart. Brave. Kind.
He has a heart of gold.
He never seemed to care when other boys teased him for not having a dad. But sometimes I wonder if he’s asked himself why he’s never met his father. Or if he thinks his father simply didn’t want him.
Fuck.
The elevator is gone.
I can’t take the stairs in these heels.
Fuck this day.
A few seconds later, the elevator doors opened again.
Relief washed over me instantly. My heart was racing so hard it almost hurt.
When the doors opened fully, I saw someone standing inside, holding the door.
At first, all I noticed were his shoes.
Black leather. Expensive. I’ve seen that model before — around $3,500. An insane amount for something you only wear with a suit.
Becoming a mother made me hyper-aware of money. Those shoes cost more than my first car — a deep red Volkswagen Beetle. I’ll never understand spending that much on something so unnecessary.
My family has never struggled financially, but I’ve never liked wasting money. I don’t want Leo growing up thinking money is endless. I want him grounded. Kind. Aware of the world.
I hurried inside, holding my coffee in one hand and my bag — stuffed with my laptop and framed photos — in the other.
I always buy coffee from the small shop on the corner. The owner is eighty, and her granddaughter works with her every day. I used to go there every morning at the same time. On Fridays they have live music from friends of Lisa, the granddaughter. I’ve missed that place so much these past five years.
I looked down carefully as I stepped in. The last thing I needed was to trip in front of whoever was standing there.
My legs were already shaking from nerves.
I cannot be late.
Then my heart paused.
I was alone in the elevator with a very tall man. The space suddenly felt smaller — maybe three meters across. His breathing was steady, controlled.
A warm, masculine scent filled the air.
It wrapped around me.
He didn’t say anything, but I could feel his eyes on me. Slow. Observing. Like he was memorizing details.
My legs trembled.
Why can’t I just be calm?
“Mmm… vanilla coffee with chocolate milk?”
His voice startled me.
Deep. Smooth.
“What?” My voice almost cracked.
The elevator started moving.
1… 2… 3… 4…
The office is on the tenth floor.
“I was talking about your coffee,” he said. “I haven’t seen you here before.”
His tone wasn’t casual. It was measured.
“It’s my first day.”
I kept my eyes on the elevator doors.
“Aha… and you are?”
I wasn’t sure who he was — or why he sounded so interested.
“I’m Mark’s new assistant.”
I heard his shoes move behind me.
Slow.
Deliberate.
He stepped closer. Not touching me — but close enough that I could feel the warmth of his body through the thin fabric of my dress.
My breathing changed.
He didn’t need to touch me to make me aware of him.
The space felt charged.
I haven’t been this close to a man since Leo’s father. And now a stranger with dark hair and a dangerous voice was standing inches behind me.
My body reacted before my mind did.
The elevator stopped.
Ping.
The doors opened.
I stepped out too quickly.
My ankle twisted. My balance disappeared.
I was falling.
Strong hands caught me before I hit the floor.
His grip was firm. Controlled.
Secure.
“Are you okay?”
His voice was serious now. Lower.
“Yes. Thank you.”
I tried to steady myself, gathering my things. Miraculously, I hadn’t spilled my coffee.
But my framed photo of Leo was missing.
“Is this your son?”
I froze.
I looked up at him for the first time.
Dark hair. Blue eyes. Long lashes. Sharp jaw. Beautiful in a way that didn’t feel fair.
He held the picture carefully in one hand.
“Yes,” I said quietly. “He’s four. Almost five.”
For a second, something shifted in his expression.
Recognition.
His eyes.
The same shade of blue as Leo’s.
And the same dark hair.
