Just For Him

Chapter Three:

Charlie POV

Mondays were always rough. But this one? This one had it out for me.

My alarm screeched at 5:30 a.m., like it knew it was waking up a human marshmallow with anxiety issues. I slapped it off with more force than necessary and blinked at the ceiling, stomach already tight with nerves. Today was my first day. New job. New city. New chance not to screw things up, Yay.

I had carefully laid out my outfit the night before a soft navy-blue suit I’d bought on discount with a matching tie that Mia said made my hair “pop like a ginger god.” I wasn’t sure what that meant, but I took it as a compliment.

I showered, dressed, even managed to eat half a piece of toast before nerves made chewing feel like a chore. By 6:45, I was out the door, suitcase in hand, trying to convince myself I didn’t look like a teenage intern who stole his dad’s suit.

Getting to the train was easy enough. Getting on it? Not so much.

It was packed, of course. Shoulder to shoulder, sweaty strangers breathing directly into my personal space. I squeezed in beside a man who apparently hadn’t taken his bath in weeks and held onto the rail like my life depended on it. Which, considering the way the train jerked and wheezed, maybe it did.

Then it happened.

Some guy with a coffee the size of a small child stumbled when the train lurched and splashed a good third of it onto my chest. Right on the new suit. Of course. I froze, staring down at the brown stain spreading across my shirt like a slow death.

“Oh, sorry man,” the guy mumbled, completely unfazed.

I gave him a weak smile. “I-it’s… f-fine.”

It wasn’t fine. My soul was actively trying to leave my body.

I tried to clean it with my hands, but all I did was smear it around and make it look like I’d lost a battle with a mocha monster.

When I finally got off the train, someone tripped over my suitcase as I dragged it off the platform, knocking it open and spilling the contents onto the concrete.

I wanted to die.

By the time I arrived at the sleek, glass-covered building that had a huge sign, HART’S CONSTRUCTION LTD, my nerves had tangled themselves into a solid knot in my gut. I clutched the handle of my half-damp suitcase like it was the only thing tethering me to this planet and stepped inside.

The lobby was cold. Not in temperature it was probably a comfortable , but in atmosphere. The receptionist was beautiful in that intimidating, bone-structure-for-days kind of way. Blonde bob. Bright red lipstick. Probably named something like Chloe-with-an-H.

She looked up from her computer, gave me a quick once-over, and immediately pressed something behind her eyes like she was turning down her “customer service” setting.

“Can I help you?” she asked, voice as sharp as her heels.

“Y-yes, um…” I cleared my throat. “M-my name’s Ch-Charlie Bennett. I’m, uh… I’m supposed to s-start today. A-assistant to M-Mr. Alex Ford.”

She blinked. Then looked me up and down again, slower this time. Her expression barely changed, but I felt the judgment radiating off her like Wi-Fi.

“Oh. You’re that assistant.”

“Y-yes?”

A long pause. “You’ll need an elevator pass to access the top floor. I assume someone will… come get you.”

I wanted the ground to swallow me whole. I gave her a wobbly smile and took a seat on the farthest chair I could find.

I sat there in the reception area, feeling more out of place than I’d ever felt in my life. The receptionist had barely looked up from her phone when I entered, but now she gestured for me to take a seat.

“Just wait here,” she said, her voice flat. “Someone will come to get you.”

I nodded, trying not to fidget too much as I slumped into the chair. I could already feel the sweat gathering at the back of my neck. Not exactly the best first impression I was hoping for. I was still thinking about the train ride this morning let’s just say things didn’t go smoothly. But I couldn’t focus on that now. I needed to pull it together.

A few minutes later, the sound of heels clicking against the polished floor caught my attention. I looked up, and there she was tall, sharp suit, professional, like someone who owned the place. She had an air about her, confident but not unfriendly.

“You must be Charlie,” she said, offering a warm smile that didn’t quite match the sternness in her eyes. “I’m Mrs. Harrison. Ella, actually. But everyone calls me Mrs. Harrison at work.”

I jumped to my feet, almost knocking over the cup of water on the table in my rush. “Oh! Uh—sorry, I—”

She waved her hand dismissively, a soft laugh escaping her lips. “No need to apologize. First day jitters, I understand. You’re going to be fine.”

I felt my cheeks go hot, but I nodded, trying not to look like a total mess. “thanks”.

“Ready for the tour?” she asked, already moving toward the elevator. I scrambled to follow her, barely managing to get my feet under me before I was walking behind her.

I nodded, forcing myself to breathe. “Yeah, sure. Lead the way.”

She pressed the button for the elevator, and the doors slid open instantly. We stepped inside, and she hit the button .

“The cafeteria’s downstairs,” she said as the elevator hummed to life. “It’s where everyone takes their breaks. You’ll find it on the lower level along with a couple of meeting rooms. It’s basic but gets the job done.”

When we reached the basement, the doors opened to reveal a spacious, modern cafeteria with sleek tables, a coffee bar in the corner, and the sound of quiet chatter. A few employees were sitting at tables, eating lunch or typing on their laptops.

“Looks... nice,” I muttered, glancing around. It was way fancier than the dingy break rooms I was used to back home.

“Yeah, it’s a little nicer than most,” she said, guiding me through the area. “You’ll find all kinds of snacks in here, but don’t get carried away. I’ve seen people with a snack stash taller than the coffee machine.”

I chuckled awkwardly. “I’ll try not to raid the place.”

Ella gave me a quick smile, and then we were heading back into the elevator. This time, she pressed the button for the 10th floor.

“The 10th and 11th floors are where most of the administrative staff works,” she explained. “Human resources, accounting, legal. All the behind-the-scenes stuff that keeps the projects running smoothly. Your floor, the 21st, is the executive floor. That’s where Alex Ford’s office is, where the CEO works, and where you’ll be assisting Alex directly.”

I tried to absorb everything she was saying, but my mind was still buzzing with the cafeteria and all the new information. “So... I’ll mostly be on the 21st floor?”

“That’s right,” Ella said, nodding. “You’ll be assisting Alex with scheduling, meetings, and whatever else comes up. You’ll need to keep your phone on you at all times—he’ll need you to be available. Don’t worry, he’s pretty easy-going. But he does like things done efficiently. So don’t mess up.”

I gulped. “I’ll try my best.”

We moved to the elevator again, this time heading straight for the 21st floor.

As we arrived, the doors opened to a sleek, polished hallway. The walls were adorned with abstract art, and there was a calm, professional atmosphere. It was a world apart from the hustle and bustle of the lower floors.

Ella led me down the hall, her heels clicking against the floor with each step. “Here we are. This is where Alex’s office is, and where you’ll be spending most of your time. Make yourself comfortable up here.”

I nodded, taking in the high-end decor. It was exactly how I imagined a CEO’s office would look open, airy, and luxurious, but not stuffy.

Ella reached into her bag and pulled out a sleek black card. “This will give you access to the 21st floor,” she said, handing it over to me. “Only people working up here get one of these. Don’t lose it.”

I took the card, trying not to act like it was the most important thing I’d ever held. I slipped it into my pocket as she handed me another item my worker ID. She also gave me a file of documents, probably a bunch of HR stuff, and a few other things I would need to familiarize myself with.

“And here’s your worker ID,” she said, “and the documents you’ll need for your first week. Make sure you go over everything. And one more thing ” She pulled out her phone and handed it to me. “Let’s exchange contacts. If you need anything, just call me.”

I hesitated for a moment before typing in my number. “Thanks,” I said. “I appreciate it.”

“No problem,” she said, tucking her phone back into her purse. “You’re going to be fine, Charlie. I know first days are nerve-wracking, but you’re in good hands. Alex is easy to work with, and Nathan... well, he’s a little more Up intense, but you’ll figure it out.”

“Thanks,” I said again, feeling a little more at ease. She didn’t seem like someone who would waste time on me if she didn’t think I had potential.

Ella gave me one last nod. “Alright, now go meet Alex. I’m sure he’s waiting for you. Just remember, no matter how nervous you are, act like you know what you’re doing. You’ll get there.”

I felt a little less like a deer caught in the headlights as I headed toward Alex’s office. It didn’t hurt that she had given me her number, just in case.

I paused outside the door with Alex Ford printed in silver lettering on the frosted glass. My palms were sweaty, my heart was somewhere between my throat and my stomach, and I was pretty sure I was about to throw up or pass out maybe both. I took a deep breath, wiped my hands against my pants, and knocked.

“Come in,” came a calm voice from inside.

I pushed the door open, peeking in like a kid walking into the principal’s office. But instead of some uptight suit behind the desk, I saw a man in his mid-thirties, sleeves rolled up, leaning back in his chair with a tablet in one hand and a half-empty coffee cup in the other. His brown hair was neatly styled, his shirt crisp, and there was an easy confidence about him that immediately made me feel a little less like a fraud.

“You must be Charlie,” he said, setting the tablet down and standing up. “I’m Alex. Welcome.”

“Hi uh, yes. I mean, yeah. I’m Charlie. Hello.” Great start. Flawless.

He walked around the desk and offered his hand. “Relax, it’s not an interview. Just a hello.”

I shook his hand, surprised by the warm, firm grip. No judgment in his eyes, no sarcasm. Just calm. I liked that.