The Glass Tower
1149 Words
The headquarters of Cross Industries was a giant building of glass and steel. It was so tall that the top was hidden in the clouds.
To Mia, standing on the sidewalk in her old sneakers and a faded coat, it looked like a fortress. It was a place for people with power, people with money, and people who never had to worry about where their next meal was coming from.
She clutched her small bag tightly. Inside was a flyer she had found on a community board: “Night Cleaners Wanted. Starting immediately. Attractive Pay.”
"It’s just a job," Mia whispered to herself, trying to stop her knees from shaking. "Just get the job, get the money, and save Dad."
She walked through the revolving glass doors. The lobby was huge and silent. The floors were made of white marble that was so clean she could see her own worried face in the reflection. A woman sat behind a high desk. She looked perfect, with every hair in place and a suit that probably cost more than Mia’s entire apartment.
"Can I help you?" the woman asked. Her voice was polite, but her eyes looked at Mia’s cheap coat with a cold expression.
"I... I am here about the cleaning job," Mia said. She tried to stand tall, even though she felt very small.
"Take the service elevator to the 50th floor," the woman said, pointing a finger. "Human Resources is at the end of the hall."
Mia nodded and hurried away. She felt out of place. She felt like a gray smudge on a perfect white canvas. As the elevator rose, her stomach did a nervous flip. She wasn't sure if it was the height or the pregnancy, but she felt dizzy. She placed a hand on her belly. Stay strong, she thought. I’m doing this for you.
When the elevator doors opened on the 50th floor, Mia was confused. It didn't look like an office for hiring cleaners. It looked like a palace. There were soft carpets, expensive paintings, and a wall of windows that showed the whole city.
She realized she must have pressed the wrong button. Or maybe the lady at the desk had given her the wrong directions.
"Hello?" Mia called out softly. "Is anyone here?"
The floor was quiet. Most people had gone home for the day. She started to walk down the long hallway, looking for a sign or a door that looked like an office. She turned a corner and saw a set of large, heavy wooden doors. They were slightly open.
Mia stepped closer, hoping to find a person to ask for directions.
Inside the room, a man was standing with his back to her. He was looking out the window at the setting sun. He was wearing a black suit that fit his broad shoulders perfectly. Even from the back, he looked powerful. He looked like the kind of man who owned the world.
Suddenly, the man turned around.
Mia froze. Her heart skipped a beat.
The man had dark hair and eyes the color of a stormy sea. His jaw was sharp, and his expression was like ice.
"Who are you?" he asked. His voice was deep and smooth. It sent a shiver down Mia’s spine, but she didn't know why. It felt familiar, like a dream she couldn't quite remember.
"I... I'm sorry," Mia stammered, stepping back. "I’m looking for the cleaning job. I think I’m on the wrong floor."
Damien Cross stared at the girl in the doorway. He didn't recognize her. The girl he had spent the night with had been wearing a red dress and had her hair done up. This girl looked tired. Her clothes were baggy, and her face was pale. She looked like she was carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders.
But something about the way she stood, the way she tilted her head made him pause. He felt a strange spark in his chest, a feeling he couldn't explain. He pushed it down. He didn't have time for feelings.
"This is the executive floor," Damien said coldly. "There are no jobs for you here."
"I'm so sorry, sir," Mia said quickly. She felt embarrassed. She turned to leave, but her foot caught on the edge of the thick carpet.
She stumbled, her hands reaching out to catch herself. Before she could hit the floor, strong arms wrapped around her waist.
For a second, they were very close. Mia’s nose was pressed against his chest. She smelled it again... that scent of expensive rain and cedar wood. Her heart began to race. Her body felt a strange warmth, a memory of safety that her mind couldn't quite catch.
Damien held her, and for a moment, he forgot to breathe. The girl was small in his arms, but she fit perfectly. The scent of her hair, simple vanilla hit him like a bolt of lightning.
He pulled away quickly, as if she had burned him. He cleared his throat and fixed his tie.
"Be more careful," he snapped, trying to hide how much that small touch had shaken him.
"Thank you," Mia whispered. She was shaking now. She didn't know why this man made her feel so strange. "I’ll go now."
"Wait," Damien said. He remembered his grandfather’s lawyer. He remembered the deadline. He needed a wife, and he needed one now. He looked at the girl. She was pretty, even though she looked sad. She looked like she needed money. And she looked like someone who wouldn't ask too many questions.
"What is your name?" he asked.
"Mia. Mia Hartwell," she replied.
"Well, Mia Hartwell," Damien said, his eyes turning hard and business-like. "You wanted a job. How would you like a job that pays much more than cleaning floors?"
Mia looked at him, confused. "What kind of job?"
Damien walked toward her, his footsteps silent on the carpet. "I need a wife. If you marry me for one year, I will pay you enough money to solve every problem you have."
Mia gasped. She thought about her father. She thought about the $14,000 she needed by Friday. She thought about the baby growing inside her.
"You want to... marry me?" she asked. "But you don't even know me."
"It’s a contract, not a love story," Damien said. "It’s a lie. But it’s a lie that will make you a millionaire."
Mia looked into his gray eyes. She had no idea that she was looking at the father of her child. She only saw a man who was offering her a lifeline.
"I'll do it," she whispered.
- Writer
