The Boss
349 Words
His office was small but immaculate. Dark wood desk. Clean shelves. A single window that looked out toward the edge of the forest beyond Lakeview Heights.
Miah sat stiffly in the chair across from him, hands folded in her lap, sleeves still tugged low.
He leaned back, studying her.
“Name?” he asked.
“Miah Hilton.”
“Age?”
She hesitated, then answered honestly. “Sixteen.”
Something flickered in his eyes. Calculation.
“You know this is a part-time position,” he said. “Long hours. You still in school?”
“Yes.”
“Why work here?”
She thought of her mother’s exhausted face. The shouting at night. The way bills piled up on the counter.
“I need the money,” she said quietly.
He watched her like he could hear the things she wasn’t saying.
“I’m Jordan,” he said finally. “I run this place.”
Nineteen.
That surprised her. He looked older. Not in years—but in weight. Like life had carved something into him early.
“You have experience?” he asked.
“No,” she admitted. “But I learn fast.”
Silence stretched between them.
Then Jordan stood.
He was tall. Taller than she expected. He moved with an ease that felt practiced—like someone used to being obeyed.
He walked around the desk and stopped in front of her.
“Look at me,” he said.
Her heart jumped, but she obeyed.
His gaze softened—just slightly.
“You don’t belong in Medieval Heights,” he said.
Her breath caught. “You don’t know me.”
A corner of his mouth lifted. “I know enough.”
He straightened. “You’re hired.”
Her eyes widened. “I—really?”
“Really.” He paused. “But if anyone gives you trouble, you come to me.”
“Okay.”
“And Miah?”
She looked up.
His eyes darkened, just a little. “Don’t lie to me.”
She didn’t know why, but the words settled deep in her chest.
- Writer
