Contracted Desires

CHAPTER 2: The Office Stranger

Emma clutched her tattered leather pocketbook and nervously brushed her skirt as she entered the big glass building. The Steele Enterprises logo gleamed in the sunlight like a threatening representation of wealth and power. She stared at it for some time, her stomach clenched into knots. She had no choice but to enter this world even if it wasn't hers.

Late last night, she received an interview invitation for a secretarial post. It was unexpected, almost too good to be true, considering her long history of bad luck. Given her sister's rising medical costs, Emma couldn't afford to disbelieve that she hadn't even applied to Steele Enterprises.

She became intensely conscious of her scuffed shoes and patched clothes in the modern, high-tech lobby. She was led to a lift by a well-groomed and polished receptionist.

With a practiced grin and a polite but distant voice, the receptionist said, "You'll be interviewing on the top floor."

Emma stepped onto the elevator, her heart pounding as it rose. The uppermost floor? It sounded... foreboding. She looked at her image in the mirrors, observing the dark circles under her eyes and the persistent resistance of her hair to styling.

Emma was welcomed by a breathtaking view of the city through floor-to-ceiling windows as the elevator dinged and the doors swung open. She was led to a sleek, simple desk by a young woman with a headset.

The assistant said, "Please wait here." "Mr. Steele will be with you shortly."

Emma gasped. Steele, Mr. Maybe the Alexander Steele? His name was famous in business circles, connoting unrelenting ambition and remarkable achievement. However, it seems unlikely that he would waste his time on a standard secretarial interview.

The assistant came back a few minutes later carrying a clipboard. In actuality, a small alteration has occurred. Instead, you will wait in Mr. Steele's office. Come with me.

Emma nodded and followed, though her brow was furrowed. Her eyes grew wide as they walked into the office. It was grand, roomy, contemporary, and frighteningly immaculate. On either side of the massive glass desk were leather chairs that appeared to be more expensive than her complete attire.

She hovered around the desk, feeling uncomfortable. The assistant left without a word, the door clicking menacingly behind her.

Emma let out a long breath, her eyes straying to a stack of framed pictures on a shelf close by. Each black-and-white photo depicted a triumphant event, such as posing in front of private jets, winning accolades, or shaking hands with international leaders.

Her fingertips were pricked with nervous intensity. She couldn't help but run her fingertips over the soft leather of the luxurious chair behind the desk.

The sound of the door opening made her jump.

A recognizable voice drawled, "You seem to have made yourself comfortable."

Emma's heart thumping against her ribs, she turned to face the door and froze. Standing there with a commanding presence was Alexander Steele. Alexander Steele was his name. The bartender.

Silence sat thick between them for a minute. Emma's mind was racing, attempting to make sense of the unthinkable reality. How could she have missed him last night? A flush of embarrassment rose up her neck.

But Alexander was still unreadable. He was very different from the man she had met in the darkened pub, with his fitted suit and refined manner. But there was no question in those sharp gray eyes.

“I take it you’re Miss Brooks?” He spoke with ease and in a formal tone that showed no signs of intimacy.

Trying to settle herself, Emma cleared her throat. "Yes, I am that person."

After passing her, he unbuttoned his suit jacket and took a seat behind the desk. “Take a seat,” he urged, gesturing to the chair across from him.

Emma hesitated for a moment, then sat with her hands clasped securely in her lap. As she waited for him to recognize the elephant in the room, her heart pounded in her ears. Rather, he grabbed a file and started to leaf through it.

At last, he said coolly, "Your resume is... unconventional." no prior experience working as a secretary. What makes you think you'd be a good fit for this job?

A glimmer of annoyance flickered through Emma at his cold attitude. Did he really think she would think he didn't know who she was? She responded, "I may not have traditional experience, but I'm resourceful, hardworking, and willing to learn," despite her nervousness. I just need a chance.

His eyes remained on her for a time, and she believed she caught a glimpse of pleasure in them. But it was gone as fast as it had come.

"Resourceful," he said again, reclined in his chair. "Interesting word choice."

One could feel the tension in the room. Emma was resolved not to let him see her falter, so she fought the impulse to wriggle beneath his attention.

He paused for a long moment before saying, "I'm not searching for perfection, Miss Brooks. I'm trying to find resilience. Someone capable of managing... unusual circumstances

Emma blinked, not sure whether he was teasing her or referring to their last meeting. She was careful with her word choice. "I'm capable of handling it."

Though it didn't reach his eyes, a slight smile tugged at his lips. "We'll see."

Without warning, he got up and walked around the desk until he was only a few paces away from her. Her heart pounded at the closeness.

"Here's the deal," he stated softly. I'm not a fan of mediocrity. It will be required of you to be discreet, foresee needs, and adjust fast. Are you able to do that?

Emma said confidently, "Yes, I can," but her voice faltered a little.

He studied her a bit more, then held out his hand. Best wishes, Miss Brooks. You have been hired.

Emma hesitated for a second, almost expecting him to take his hand away. He held it tightly, almost implacably, and she felt an uncontrollable chill as she shook it.

Emma left the office in a trance, her mind racing with possible answers. Why had he brought her on board so fast? And why was he behaving as though nothing had happened the night before?

Emma hardly paid attention as the assistant outside handed her a welcome packet and started outlining the specifics of her new position. Half-expecting him to call her back, she kept looking back at Alexander's office's opaque glass doors.

Her phone buzzed as she entered the elevator. The screen was illuminated by a text from an unidentified number.

"I hope you're prepared for the future."

Her stomach fell. Was it a warning or a challenge? One thing was for sure, though: working for Alexander Steele would not be your typical job.