THE FIRST DAY
1518 Words
Nina arrived at Cross Capital Partners at 7:30 AM, thirty minutes before she was expected.
She wanted to be settled before Adrian walked in. Wanted to look like she belonged here, like she'd been doing this job for years instead of hours. First impressions mattered. She'd learned that from her mother.
"People decide who you are in the first thirty seconds," Mei-Lin used to say. "After that, you're just proving them right or wrong."
Nina intended to prove them right.
The office was quiet at this hour. A cleaning crew moved through the lower floors, but the executive level was empty except for Linda, who was already at her desk, typing something with efficient fingers.
"Good morning," Nina said.
Linda looked up. "You're early."
"I like to be."
Linda's face softened — just a fraction. "Adrian won't be in until eight. Coffee's in the break room. Help yourself."
Nina nodded and walked to her new desk. It was small but well-placed — just outside Adrian's office, close enough to be useful, far enough to give him privacy. She set down her bag, arranged her pens, positioned her monitor at the perfect angle.
Then she sat and waited.
---
Adrian arrived at 8:02.
Nina heard him before she saw him — the soft tread of expensive shoes on marble, the quiet greeting to Linda, the rustle of papers being shifted from one hand to the other. Then he appeared in her doorway.
"Good morning," he said.
"Good morning."
He looked tired. The same tired she'd seen in the interview — dark circles under his eyes, a mouth that seemed to have forgotten how to smile. But there was something else too. A flicker of curiosity. He was looking at her like he was trying to figure her out.
"Linda said you were here at seven-thirty."
"I like to be early."
"Most people don't."
"Most people aren't me."
A pause. Then — a small smile. It changed his whole face. Made him look younger. Less hollow.
"No," he said. "I don't suppose they are."
He walked into his office and closed the door.
Nina exhaled.
---
The morning passed in a rhythm Nina understood. Phones. Calendars. Emails. She'd done this job before, at Sterling Group, but this felt different. Here, she was closer to the center. Here, she could see the man she was working for.
Adrian Cross was not what she'd expected.
She'd imagined a cold man. Distant. Arrogant. Someone who'd married Vanessa for her beauty and ignored her for the same reason. Someone who deserved what was coming.
But Adrian was none of those things. He was quiet. Thoughtful. He said please and thank you to Linda. He remembered the receptionist's name. When a junior analyst made a mistake on a report, Adrian didn't yell — he just said, "Let's fix it together."
Nina watched him through the glass wall of his office. He was on the phone now, his brow furrowed, his free hand running through his hair. He looked frustrated but controlled. Like a man who'd learned to swallow his anger because no one was listening anyway.
Stop it, she told herself. He's not the victim. He's married to your sister. He's the enemy.
But the words felt hollow.
---
At noon, Linda went to lunch. Nina stayed at her desk.
Adrian's door opened. He stood in the doorway, holding a sandwich.
"You haven't eaten," he said.
"I'm not hungry."
"You said that at nine. And at ten. And at eleven." He set the sandwich on her desk. "Eat."
She looked at the sandwich. Turkey. Swiss. On rye.
"How did you know what I like?"
"I asked Linda." He hesitated. "She said you told her yesterday."
Nina had forgotten. Small talk while waiting for the elevator. "I'm a turkey and Swiss person. Always have been." She hadn't thought he'd remember.
"Thank you," she said.
He nodded. Then he went back to his office and closed the door.
Nina ate the sandwich.
---
At 3:00 PM, Adrian called her in.
"The Calloway file," he said, handing her a thick folder. "I need you to go through it. Highlight anything that doesn't match the projections. There's something wrong, and I can't find it."
She took the folder. "How long do I have?"
"Tomorrow morning."
"I'll have it by six tonight."
He looked up. "That's three hours."
"I work fast."
He studied her for a moment. Then: "I don't pay you to work yourself into exhaustion."
"You don't pay me yet. I haven't been here a full week."
Something flickered across his face — amusement, maybe. "Fair point. But still. Don't kill yourself over the Calloway file. It's not worth it."
"What is worth it?"
The question hung in the air. Adrian's expression shifted. Became more guarded.
"I'll let you know when I find something," he said.
It was a dismissal. Nina took the folder and left.
---
She finished the Calloway file at 5:47 PM.
She'd found three discrepancies — small ones, easy to miss, but significant. She highlighted them, wrote a brief summary, and printed everything out. Then she walked to Adrian's office and knocked.
"Come in."
He was at his desk, reading something on his screen. His tie was loosened. His sleeves were rolled up. He looked like a man who'd forgotten to go home.
"Here," she said, setting the papers on his desk. "The discrepancies are on pages four, seven, and twelve. The summary is on top."
He picked up the summary. Read it. Read it again.
"How did you find this?" he asked.
"I told you. I work fast."
"No." He looked up at her. "This isn't fast. This is —" He stopped. Shook his head. "Never mind."
"What?"
He set the summary down. "You're good at this. Really good. Why are you working as an assistant?"
Nina's heart beat faster. She'd prepared for this question. She had an answer ready.
"Because I needed a change. And because sometimes the best way to understand a company is to see it from the inside out. Assistants hear things executives don't."
Adrian considered this. "You're not planning to stay an assistant."
"No," she said honestly. "I'm not."
"Good." He stood up. "Then let's get you promoted."
He walked past her, into the hallway. She followed.
"Where are we going?"
"To see Marcus Hayes. He's been with the company for twenty years. He knows where the bodies are buried." Adrian glanced back at her. "And I want you to know too."
---
They walked to the elevator. Adrian pressed the button. The doors opened.
Inside, they stood side by side. Not speaking. The air between them was thick with something Nina didn't want to name.
"You mentioned your mother," Adrian said. "At the interview. She passed away."
"Yes."
"Was it sudden?"
"Cancer." Nina kept her eyes forward. "She fought for two years. In the end, it wasn't enough."
"I'm sorry."
"So am I."
The elevator stopped. The doors opened. They stepped out into a different floor — older, less polished, with wood paneling and the smell of old paper.
"Marcus," Adrian said, leading her to an office at the end of the hall. "This is Nina Vance. My new assistant. She's going to be more than that."
Marcus Hayes was a round man with kind eyes and a gray beard. He looked at Nina over his reading glasses.
"Is that so?"
"She found the Calloway discrepancies. In three hours."
Marcus raised his eyebrows. "Three hours?"
"I work fast," Nina said.
Marcus laughed. "I like her. Come in, come in. Let's talk."
---
Two hours later, Nina walked out of Marcus's office with her head spinning.
He'd told her everything — the company's history, its rivalries, its secrets. He'd told her about Adrian's father, Robert, who'd built Cross Capital from nothing. He'd told her about Adrian, who'd inherited a empire he never wanted.
"He's a good man," Marcus had said. "The best of them. But he's lonely. Has been for years. Ever since he married “
He'd stopped himself. Cleared his throat.
"Never mind. That's not my story to tell."
Nina had nodded. But she'd filed it away.
---
She returned to her desk at 8:00 PM. Adrian's office was dark. He'd gone home.
She sat down, exhausted, and stared at her computer screen.
Her phone buzzed.
Elena: How was day two?
Nina typed back: Complicated.
Elena: Complicated how?
Nina thought about Adrian's sad eyes. Marcus's unfinished sentence. The sandwich on her desk. The way Adrian had said "let's get you promoted" like he was already planning her future.
I don't know yet, she typed. I'll call you tomorrow.
She gathered her things and walked to the elevator.
On the way down, she closed her eyes and made a promise to herself: she would not feel sorry for Adrian Cross. She would not feel anything for him. He was a means to an end. A tool. A weapon pointed at Vanessa's heart.
But when she opened her eyes, she saw his face in the reflection of the elevator doors.
And she wasn't sure she believed herself anymore.
- Writer
