Love Through The Speakers

Chapter Four:Caleb's Interest

Chapter Four: Caleb's Interest

Caleb Rashford was not a man easily intrigued.

He was used to people bending over backwards to gain his attention, speaking in rehearsed tones and practiced smiles. But this time, it wasn’t a face or a name that caught his attention it was a voice.

That voice.

Soft, confident, layered with something he couldn’t quite place—determination, maybe. Or vulnerability. Either way, it had stopped him mid-sentence during a quarterly board meeting. Everyone else had continued speaking around him, not realizing his mind had already left the room.

And now he had a name.

Natalie Daniels.

He stood by the expansive window of his top-floor office, the city laid out before him in all its glittering arrogance. Manhattan pulsed below, a living thing of ambition and hunger. He watched it absently, but his thoughts were focused on the woman whose voice had haunted him all night.

“Sir,” his assistant Diana said from behind him, holding a slim folder in her manicured hands. “This is everything we’ve found so far on Natalie Daniels.”

He turned, taking the folder from her silently. Diana hovered a second longer, curious, but Caleb was already flipping through the pages.

Natalie Grace Daniels. Age 24. Columbia graduate—Communications. No prior experience in radio or broadcasting. Hometown: Brooklyn. Currently resides in a little apartment in Manhattan. Single.

He skimmed through the rest—academic achievements, volunteer work, minor internships—and paused on a line under financial status.

Medical debt. Hospital bills. Dependent: Ruth Daniels, mother. Diagnosis: late-stage heart cancer.

That hit him harder than expected.

He wasn’t a stranger to loss. His father had died when he was fifteen. Left his mother to carry the Rashford name with ice in her spine and steel in her gaze. Caleb had learned young that the world didn’t hand out favors. You took what you wanted or you got left behind.

And that's what shaped him into the successful owner of such a big entertainment company at just the age one twenty-five.

Still, something about Natalie’s story stirred something in him. This wasn’t just a girl with a nice voice trying to break into radio—this was someone clawing her way up from desperation.

And that made her all the more interesting.

“She doesn’t know who I am yet, does she?” he asked, glancing at Diana.

“Not to our knowledge. She met with Rhys Carter yesterday. He liked her.”

Caleb nodded. “Schedule an internal meeting with her. Casual setting. Make it seem part of her onboarding process, if she’s hired.”

“She hasn’t officially been offered the job yet.”

“She will be.”

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Meanwhile, across the city...

Natalie’s phone buzzed as she stood in line at the pharmacy. Her fingers tightened around the cheap plastic basket filled with her mother’s prescriptions—just enough for the next five days. Barely.

Unknown Number:

Hi Natalie, this is Diana from Rash Entertainment. We’d like to invite you in for an informal team introduction and discussion on Friday at 10 a.m. It’s part of our onboarding initiative.

Her breath caught.

Was this it? Did that mean she got the job?

Before she could overthink, she quickly replied: Thank you! I’ll be there.

She turned to her mother, who was seated nearby, pale and resting against the side wall. “Mom, I think... I think I might have gotten the job.”

Her mother opened her eyes slowly, giving her a tired smile. “That’s wonderful, sweetheart.”

Natalie sat beside her on the bench, wrapping an arm around her frail shoulders. “This could change everything.”

Her mother reached for her hand. “You always had a beautiful voice. It’s time the world heard it too.”

.............................................

Friday – Rash Entertainment HQ

Natalie stepped out of the elevator, dressed in a blush pink blouse and fitted black slacks. Her hair was curled softly at the ends, falling in waves past her shoulders. She had Cathy to thank for that—her best friend had come over the night before like a glam squad on a mission.

“You’re walking into the such a huge enterprise, Nat, Cathy had said. “Might as well look like you belong at the top.”

She was led to a lounge area on the 28th floor—a stylish but cozy space with plush chairs, exposed brick, and framed covers of Rash Entertainment’s most successful moments. A soft jazz tune played in the background.

“Miss Daniels,” came a voice from behind her.

Natalie turned—and froze.

The man approaching her was devastatingly attractive.

Tall, broad shoulders beneath a tailored navy jacket, rich brown skin smooth and glowing under the ambient light, tattoos peeking from beneath his shirt cuffs and collar, and eyes that seemed to see everything. His hair was cropped close at the sides and styled on top, like he’d just stepped out of a photoshoot.

She blinked.

“Mr. Rashford?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

He smiled. “So you do know who I am.”

Only from magazine articles. Interviews. Rumors. And okay—maybe one or two Google image searches. But none of them prepared her for the magnetic presence of him standing three feet away.

“I’ve heard of you,” she said carefully.

“Good things, I hope.”

“I suppose that depends on the source,” she said, then immediately winced. “Sorry. That came out wrong—

But Caleb laughed. “No, I like it. You’re not afraid to speak your mind.”

She relaxed a little. “Well… I try.”

He motioned toward the chairs. “Come. Let’s talk.”

She sat, heart thudding in her chest. Caleb took the seat across from her, leaning forward slightly, forearms resting on his thighs. Everything about him was casual yet calculated.

“I wanted to meet the voice that stopped me in my tracks,” he said.

Natalie blinked. “You listened to the broadcast?”

“I did. And I haven’t stopped thinking about it since.”

Her mouth went dry. Was this still a job meeting? Or something else entirely?

“You’re not like the others we’ve hired,” Caleb continued. “You don’t come from this world. But that’s not a weakness—it’s your strength. You’re real. You speak like someone who’s been through something. People connect with that.”

“I’ve... definitely been through a few things,” she said softly, then added, “I just want to make a difference. Tell stories that matter. Help people see they’re not alone.”

Caleb nodded slowly. “I want to offer you a permanent contract. Starting salary—$65,000. Benefits, healthcare, bonuses after three months depending on performance.”

Natalie’s mouth dropped open. Are you serious?”

“Dead serious.”

Tears stung the corners of her eyes. “That would… that would change everything.”

“I know,” he said quietly.

For a moment, they just looked at each other, the powerful CEO with the intense gaze, and her, the girl who’d walked into this building with nothing but a voice and hope.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“You’ve earned it.”

And deep inside him, something shifted. He didn’t usually care this much not this fast. But Natalie Daniels wasn’t like anyone he’d met before.