LURED BY LOVE

TYLER CLARKS MIGHT ACTUALLY NOTICE

Blair’s Pov

The next morning, I marched into Marcus's office with my resignation letter clutched in sweaty hands.

My boss looked up from his paperwork, surprise flickering across his weathered face. "Blair? What's this?"

"My resignation." I placed the letter on his desk before I could chicken out. "Two weeks' notice."

He picked it up slowly, like it might explode. "Are you really sure this is what you want?"

"I'm sure." My voice sounded steadier than I felt.

Marcus leaned back in his chair, studying me with those knowing eyes that had seen countless waitresses come and go. "Where are you going to work now?"

My breath caught. My heart started hammering.

Should I tell him I just agreed to seduce a billionaire CEO for a million dollars? That fifty thousand is already sitting in my bank account? That I'm about to become the kind of woman I used to judge?

In a flash, I imagined what would happen if anyone found out. The names they'd call me. Attention w***e. Gold-digger. Greedy b***h. Worse.

This was my secret. My dirty, potentially life-changing secret.

"Sir, I…"

"It's okay." Marcus held up a hand, surprising kindness in his smile. "I understand if you don't want to tell me. But I hope it's a better place. Make sure it's worth it, kid."

Relief flooded through me so fast I almost felt dizzy. "Thank you."

"You've been a really good worker, Blair. We'll miss you around here."

My throat tightened unexpectedly. This place had been my safety net for two years. The tips had kept me afloat when student loans tried to drown me. The late-night shifts had been hell, but the people.People like Marcus,had made it bearable.

"Thanks, sir. I really... I appreciated working here." The words came out softer than I intended. "But I have to go."

He nodded, taking the resignation letter from my trembling fingers. "I understand. Just... be careful out there, alright? The corporate world isn't always kind to girls like you."

Girls like you. He meant well, but the phrase stuck in my chest like a thorn.

What did that even mean? Poor girls? Pretty girls? Girls desperate enough to make deals with women in designer dresses?

I didn't say any of that. I just stood there with a faint smile, wondering if Marcus could see the guilt written all over my face.

To my complete surprise, he pulled me into a hug. One of those crushing dad-hugs that made my eyes sting.

I hugged him back, fighting the sudden urge to cry.

****__

I got home that evening feeling like I'd been split in two.

One half was lighter, almost giddy with possibility. Fifty thousand dollars. A real chance at my dreams. Freedom.

The other half was terrified, guilty, wondering if I'd just made the worst decision of my life.

Too late now. No turning back.

I collapsed onto my bed after a cold shower, trying to clear my head. Sleep. That's what I needed. Just sleep and….

Tyler's face flashed behind my eyelids.

Those intense dark eyes. That sharp jaw. The way he'd looked at Harriet like she was mildly annoying background noise. The bored confidence of a man who owned everything he touched.

I sat bolt upright.

"Okay. Fine. Just once. I'll look at him once and get it out of my system."

I grabbed my phone and typed: Tyler Clarks.

The search results exploded across my screen.

Hundreds of articles."Most Eligible Bachelor" rankings. Photos of him at charity galas, on yachts, stepping out of private jets looking like every woman's fantasy made flesh.

I clicked on images and my jaw actually dropped.

Tyler in a tuxedo at some gala, looking like he was carved from marble. Tyler shirtless on a beach somewhere tropical, abs that could cut glass. Tyler in his office, sleeves rolled up, that dangerous focus in his eyes that made my stomach flip.

I zoomed in on one photo. A candid shot of him leaving some high-end restaurant. The photographer had caught him mid-turn, and Jesus Christ, even his profile was unfairly perfect.

"Stop being a pervert," I hissed at myself, but I couldn't stop scrolling.

His measurements were listed on some fan site (because of course he had fan sites): 6'2", broad shoulders, narrow waist, perfect proportions like he'd been designed in a lab specifically to make women stupid.

I fell back onto my bed, pressing my phone to my chest like it might somehow transfer his image directly into my brain.

Would I even be able to seduce a guy like this?

Men like Tyler dated supermodels. Actresses. Heiresses who looked like they'd been Photoshopped in real life. Women with curves in all the right places, glowing skin, full lips, perfect everything.

I looked down at myself.Petite, tired, ordinary. My boobs were decent but nothing spectacular. My skin was okay but dull from too many late shifts. My lips were... fine, I guess?

"Ugh, this is so frustrating."

But I'd already taken the money. It was sitting in my account, tempting and terrifying in equal measure.

I just needed to glow up. Transform myself from diner-waitress-Blair into someone Tyler Clarks might actually look at twice.

I jumped up and yanked open my dresser drawer, pulling out the fancy face mask I bought some time ago, but hardly used. "Starting tonight. No more showing up anywhere looking scruffy."

Tomorrow I'd tackle makeup. I barely wore the stuff. I felt more comfortable without it. But which girl in her right mind would walk into Clarks Industries looking plain? Especially if she planned to seduce the CEO?

I turned in front of my mirror, practicing my walk. Chin up. Back straight. Maybe a subtle hip sway for effect. Definitely heels. The kind that made legs look a mile long.

"You can do this," I told my reflection. "You have to do this."

I spent the next three hours watching YouTube makeup tutorials, practicing contouring and that smoky eye thing that made every influencer look dangerous and irresistible.

By midnight, I'd finally gotten it right. The face staring back at me in the mirror looked like me. But better. Sharper. More confident. Like a woman who could walk into a billionaire's office and make him want her.

I smiled at my reflection, adrenaline and terror mixing into something almost like excitement.

"Clarks Industries, here I come."

*******

I pulled Harriet's business card from my purse with shaking hands, the expensive cardstock feeling like a lifeline and a noose all at once.

One ring. Two rings. Three rings.

My stomach knotted tighter with each passing second. What if she'd changed her mind? What if this was all some sick joke and she was laughing at how desperate I'd been to believe her?

"Hello, darling." Her voice poured through the speaker like honey. Smooth and expensive

"Miss Laurent? It's Blair. Blair Harris."

"I know who you are, sweetheart. How are we doing?"

"I'm..I need your help." The words tumbled out too fast. "I don't know the job description, or how to even get an interview, or…"

"Slow down." I could practically hear her amused smile. "Did you quit your job yet?"

"Yes. This morning."

"Good girl. Smart. So when do you want to start?"

"As soon as possible." My fingers twisted in my hair. "But how do I actually get in? Don't I need, like, qualifications or…"

"Blair." Her voice sharpened. "That's not your concern. I'll arrange a position for you. Something that puts you in his line of sight every single day."

My heart kicked up. "You can really do that?"

"I keep my promises, darling. I need this to work. Do you understand? I'm not paying you a million dollars to fail."

The reminder of exactly what I'd agreed to hit me like cold water. "I understand. I'll do whatever it takes."

"Excellent. And Blair? One more thing." She paused for effect. "Don't show up looking like a bum."

A bum?

Heat flooded my face. The insult landed like a slap. Just because she had money didn't give her the right to talk down to me like I was some charity case.

"Are you there?" Her tone suggested she knew exactly how her words had landed and didn't care.

"Yeah. I'm here." I forced my voice steady. "I won't disappoint you."

"I'm counting on it."

The line went dead.

I threw myself back on my bed, staring at the ceiling. "b***h," I muttered to the empty room.

But she wasn't wrong. If I was going to pull this off, I needed to look the part. Tomorrow at ten was the Interview. First impression matters.

Time to become someone Tyler Clarks might actually notice.