The next morning, Bruce Hill arrived at Hill Industries earlier than usual. The hum of the city was just beginning to pick up, but his mind was already racing. He had spent much of the previous evening thinking about Sharon Sims and how she seemed to be the perfect balance of ambition and intellect. There was a charm to her that he couldn’t shake.
As he stepped out of the elevator onto the executive floor, Clara was already at her desk. She looked up, startled to see him so early.
“Good morning, Mr. Hill,” she greeted, setting down her coffee.
“Morning, Clara,” Bruce replied briskly. “Did you confirm dinner with Sharon?”
“Yes, sir,” Clara said, pulling up her schedule. “She accepted. I’ve made a reservation at Bellissimo’s for 7 p.m. It’s private and quiet, as you requested.”
“Perfect
