HER LOVE STORY

HER LOVE STORY CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 6: JACKSON'S NEW UNIFORM

The alarm rang at six in the morning.

Deborah reached out from beneath the thin blanket and silenced it before it could wake everyone else.

For a few seconds, she remained still.

The apartment was quiet.

Too quiet.

She could hear the faint ticking of the old wall clock in the living room and the occasional rumble of a vehicle passing outside. Somewhere in the building, a child cried, followed by the muffled voice of a mother trying to calm them.

Deborah stared at the ceiling.

Today was supposed to be the beginning.

Her first official day inside Vance Enterprises.

Not in the position she wanted.

Not on the floor where executives walked through glass corridors carrying expensive briefcases.

Not even close.

She would be part of the temporary administrative pool, working wherever she was needed. Filing documents. Sorting records. Digitizing old paperwork. Carrying files between departments.

It wasn't glamorous.

But it was a door.

And Deborah had learned that sometimes the most important doors in life were the ones nobody else wanted to open.

She pushed the blanket aside.

When she sat up, she noticed Jackson already awake.

Her younger brother was standing in front of the small mirror, struggling with his new school uniform.

He was holding the tie in his hands and staring at it as though it had personally offended him.

"You're doing it wrong," Deborah said.

Jackson jumped.

"I wasn't doing anything."

Deborah laughed quietly.

"You've been fighting that tie for five minutes."

"It's fighting me."

She climbed out of bed and walked over.

"Give it to me."

Jackson handed her the tie.

Deborah carefully adjusted it around his collar, tightening the knot.

"There."

Jackson looked at himself in the mirror.

His new uniform wasn't expensive, but it was clean and properly fitted. Sarah had managed to buy it after weeks of saving.

Jackson smiled.

"I look serious."

"You look like someone who's about to cause trouble."

"That's because I'm going to."

"Jackson."

"I'm joking."

Deborah smiled.

For a moment, she forgot everything.

The interview.

Marcus.

Her father's death.

The bills.

The tiny apartment.

The fear that she might fail again.

All of it disappeared beneath the simple happiness of watching her brother admire himself in a new uniform.

Then Jackson turned toward her.

"Are you nervous?"

Deborah's smile faded slightly.

"A little."

"You shouldn't be."

"Why?"

"Because Dad said you're a hero."

Her heart tightened.

She looked away.

Jackson didn't notice the change in her expression.

"He always said you could do anything."

Deborah swallowed.

"He did."

"And he said you were the most beautiful girl on earth."

A tiny laugh escaped her.

"He said that?"

"You know he did."

Jackson grinned.

"He said it all the time."

Deborah looked at her brother.

Jackson was young when Adams died. Young enough that some memories had faded around the edges. But he remembered their father laughing. He remembered his voice. He remembered being lifted onto Adams's shoulders.

And he remembered how much their father loved Deborah.

"He'd be proud of you," Jackson said.

Deborah's eyes burned.

"Thank you."

Jackson grabbed his backpack.

"Also..."

"What?"

"You promised me running shoes."

Deborah stared at him.

"Already?"

"You said if you got the job."

"I haven't gotten the job."

"But you're working there."

"Temporary work."

"Work is work."

She laughed.

"You're impossible."

"I learned from you."

From the kitchen came Sarah's voice.

"Both of you, breakfast!"

Jackson hurried toward the kitchen.

Deborah followed.

Sarah stood beside the small stove, placing slices of bread onto three plates. She looked tired, but when she saw Jackson in his new uniform, her face softened.

"My handsome boy."

Jackson straightened proudly.

"How do I look?"

"Wonderful."

"Deborah says I look like trouble."

Sarah smiled.

"She's probably right."

"Mom!"

The three of them laughed.

It was a small moment.

Nothing extraordinary.

No expensive dining room.

No beautiful house.

No perfect family.

Just three people sharing breakfast in a two-room apartment.

But Deborah would later remember that morning as one of the last moments when everything still felt simple.

After breakfast, Deborah picked up her worn handbag.

Sarah watched her closely.

"Are you sure you're ready?"

Deborah nodded.

"I'm ready."

"Don't allow anyone to make you feel inferior."

"I won't."

"And if someone insults you?"

Deborah paused.

She remembered Marcus.

"I'll walk away."

Sarah smiled.

"Good."

Jackson leaned against the wall.

"Or you could become CEO and fire them."

Deborah laughed.

"That's your solution to everything."

"It works."

She hugged him.

"Take care of Mom."

"You take care of yourself."

Deborah hugged Sarah next.

Her mother held her tightly.

For several seconds, neither woman spoke.

Then Sarah whispered, "Your father believed in you."

Deborah closed her eyes.

"I know."

"Believe in yourself too."

Deborah pulled away.

"I will."

She walked out.

The morning air was colder than she expected.

She pulled her coat tighter and began walking toward the bus stop.

Every step carried her closer to Vance Enterprises.

Every step also carried her deeper into a world she wasn't sure would ever accept her.

But she had made a promise.

She would not give up.

---

By eight-thirty, Deborah was standing in the lobby of Vance Enterprises again.

This time, nobody had invited her into a private office.

Nobody had offered her coffee.

Nobody cared about her ambitions.

She was handed a temporary identification card and directed toward the administrative pool.

"Basement level," the HR assistant said without looking up.

"Thank you."

Deborah took the elevator down.

When the doors opened, she found herself staring at a long gray corridor.

The basement was nothing like the polished upper floors.

The ceiling was lower.

The lights were harsher.

There were stacks of old files along the walls.

Several employees sat behind crowded desks.

A supervisor named Mrs. Carter approached her.

"You must be Deborah."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Temporary staff?"

"Yes."

Mrs. Carter handed her a box of documents.

"Sort these by year, then scan them into the archive system."

Deborah looked at the enormous box.

"All of them?"

Mrs. Carter nodded.

"Before lunch."

Deborah glanced at the clock.

It was eight-forty-five.

She looked back at the box.

"Understood."

She sat down.

For the next three hours, she worked.

File after file.

Document after document.

Her fingers became dusty.

Her back began to ache.

Nobody praised her.

Nobody even noticed.

But Deborah kept going.

Around noon, a group of employees passed through the basement.

One of them recognized her.

"Isn't that the girl Marcus rejected?"

Another woman glanced at Deborah's coat.

"Yes."

They laughed quietly.

Deborah heard them.

Her hands stopped.

For one painful second, shame rose inside her again.

Then she remembered her father.

A garden doesn't bloom overnight.

She picked up another file.

And kept working.

---

At two-thirty, something unexpected happened.

Mrs. Carter returned to Deborah's desk.

She looked at the completed files.

Then she looked at Deborah.

"Who taught you this system?"

"Nobody officially."

Mrs. Carter frowned.

"You did all this yourself?"

Deborah nodded.

"I studied the software before applying."

Mrs. Carter picked up a file.

The records were perfectly organized.

Dates aligned.

Entries labeled.

Documents scanned correctly.

"You made no mistakes."

Deborah smiled cautiously.

"I tried not to."

Mrs. Carter studied her for a moment.

Then she placed another folder on the desk.

"Take this upstairs."

Deborah looked at the folder.

"Where?"

"Accounting."

Her stomach tightened.

"Accounting?"

"Fourth floor."

Deborah immediately knew who worked there.

Marcus.

Mrs. Carter walked away.

Deborah stared at the folder.

She could stay where she was.

She could ask someone else to deliver it.

But something inside her refused.

She picked up the folder.

"Fine."

She entered the elevator.

The doors closed.

The numbers climbed.

Basement.

Ground.

First.

Second.

Third.

Fourth.

The elevator stopped.

The doors opened.

Deborah stepped out.

And almost immediately, she saw him.

Marcus.

He was standing outside his office, speaking with another employee.

His eyes moved across the corridor.

Then landed on Deborah.

His expression changed.

Recognition.

Surprise.

Then amusement.

He looked at her temporary identification card.

"Well."

Deborah's fingers tightened around the folder.

Marcus smiled.

"I thought I made myself clear."

Deborah looked directly into his eyes.

"You did."

"Then why are you here?"

She held up the folder.

"Work."

Marcus's smile disappeared.

For the first time, Deborah saw something in his expression that wasn't contempt.

It was irritation.

And beneath it, something else.

Concern.

Because Marcus suddenly realized something.

The girl he had thrown away yesterday had found another way inside.

And she wasn't planning to leave.

Deborah walked past him.

But before she could reach the accounting desk, Marcus spoke.

"Miss Deborah."

She stopped.

"Yes?"

He looked at her faded coat.

Then at the folder in her hands.

"Let's see how long you last."

Deborah turned toward him.

Her father's voice seemed to whisper from somewhere deep inside her memory.

Never let anyone intimidate you.

She smiled faintly.

"Long enough."

Then she walked away.

Marcus watched her go.

For the first time, the woman he had dismissed as insignificant had become a problem.

And Deborah had no idea that her decision to enter that building would eventually place her directly in the path of the most powerful man in it.