Mr. Sinclair

The offices of Sinclair Fashion Group buzzed with the energy of a company on the brink of transformation. The news of the new company integration was known on every floor of the building, and the coalition had everyone on edge, fearing for their precious jobs. Designers hurried with fabric samples, models came and went between fittings, and executives exchanged sharp looks as they navigated the labyrinthine hallways. Meanwhile, approaching the building was Nathan Sinclair, arriving in his high-end sports car. Music blared from the car speakers as he exited with the elegance only he could pull off. Adjusting his wristwatch and grabbing his briefcase, he entered the lobby of the building that bore his surname. Enigmatic and recently appointed CEO of the company, he walked to his new glass-walled office, observing the bustling scene before him. Trying to keep up with him was the receptionist, with several envelopes and papers overflowing from her hands. "Good morning, Mr. Sinclair. I have several notifications for you." "I'm all ears," he replied without even glancing at her. Nervous, the young secretary hesitated as she held the files. "Well, your mother called early this morning and requested that you return her call." "Family or business matter?" "She didn't specify, sir." Handing him an envelope, she continued talking. "Here is the new list of employees coming with the Bella Moda coalition. The papers specify the role of each one." "Anything else I should know?" "You have a meeting with the company's design director." Nathan was a man who thrived on control. Indeed, his ability to keep a cool head had earned him the position he now enjoyed within the family business. He had spent years climbing and competing with various members to get to where he was now. Even though he was already in charge of everything, he was under scrutiny until his new promotion was publicly celebrated, and he was under the meticulous gaze of his mother. Tall and impeccably dressed, with a chiseled jaw and bright blue eyes. There wasn't a day Nathan appeared at the offices disheveled, and he was, in fact, quite obsessive about his personal image overall. And it was no wonder; he had been nurtured under the wing of his mother, the successful Evelyn Sinclair. A woman globally recognized for managing one of the most successful office fashion companies in the region. Her signature was the cleanliness of her designs, without neglecting avant-garde fashion for both sexes, making her brand unique. Inheriting his mother's cold and indifferent character, Nathan was undoubtedly someone both admired and feared. There wasn't a woman in the company whom his masculine charm didn't melt, and he, on the other hand, was fully aware of the effect he had on them. His success was based on unbreakable determination and an innate ability to detect potential, whether in a business or in the people he encountered. Today, his sharp gaze was fixed on the file in front of him, one that contained the profiles of key employees from the newly acquired design house, Bella Moda. Nathan had never thought it was a good idea to acquire it, but it had been a wish of his mother, who had the final word there. He truly believes that merging with a design house with such a different imprint would only end up ruining the formal aesthetic of Sinclair Fashion, causing an imminent drop in their sales. Suddenly, the phone on his desk began to ring. He pressed a button on it, without taking his eyes off the files. "Yes?" "Nathan." "Mother," he replied, paying little attention. "I'm just calling to remind you that you have a meeting with Amelia Johnson, Bella Moda's creative representative. Don't forget." "In fact, now that you mention it, I was looking at the files for the same. I'm not surprised they haven't prospered much. They're just a bunch of unemployed college kids creating nonsense." He could clearly hear his mother sigh in disappointment at his words. "Don't say that, Nathan. A company's failure doesn't always have to do with something internal. I intend to extract a lot of potential from this unification. Be kind to them, that's all I ask. Remember that, after all, we've made an agreement, and that requires both parties to work together." "I still don't understand what you were thinking when you decided to sign that." "Do your job, Nathan. And don't make me regret giving you that position." The young CEO rolled his eyes as he listened to her hang up without even saying goodbye. He sighed, unsurprised by it. He was well aware that much of his cold personality had undoubtedly been inherited from his mother. Blowing out a breath, he returned his gaze to the files in front of him. Bella Moda had been on the brink of bankruptcy when Nathan's company intervened to acquire it. The deal had been finalized, and now came the hard part: integration. Nathan knew that the success of both companies depended on combining Bella Moda's creative brilliance with Sinclair Fashion's business acumen. But he couldn't help but think it was a very risky move to attempt. A name in the file stood out, causing a mix of anticipation and irritation in him: Amelia Johnson, Bella Moda's design director. The creative head of the place, and the next headache he would have to deal with. Amelia was known for her innovative designs and uncompromising vision, qualities that had made Bella Moda the favorite design house in the avant-garde fashion scene. But Nathan had heard enough rumors about her stubbornness and refusal to conform to traditional business practices. He sighed, rubbing his temples as he prepared for his first meeting with her. Meanwhile, in the building across the street, Amelia rummaged through fabrics and suits, looking for something suitable for the meeting. As her first major task as design director, she was definitely nervous. "What looks better on me? Red or blue?" Her best friend squinted, thoughtful. "Definitely red. It highlights your eyes." Amelia nodded, running behind the screen to change while her friend picked up all the mess she left behind. She had spent the entire morning locked in her studio, sketching frantically, trying to block out the impending meeting with Sinclair from her mind. The rumors about his hostile personality unsettled her. She knew that after the deal with her company, they would have to see each other more often than she desired. Known not only for being one of the youngest billionaires in the country but also for being a born playboy. Everything she could despise in a person. "Well, how do I look?" Amelia stood in front of the large mirror in her studio, noticing how the pencil skirt outlined her figure. Slightly shorter than average and with dark curls framing her expressive face, the young woman was undoubtedly a force to be reckoned with in the fashion world. She put her heart and soul into her designs, creating pieces that spoke of her dreams and surpassed her own challenges. Unlike the young CEO, Amelia had been born into a family of very few resources, having to carve her way into the fashion world on her own. The idea of having to justify her vision to a corporate shark like Nathan Sinclair made her blood boil. "You look perfect! I'd accept any kind of deal if you proposed it to me in that outfit..." They both laughed, entering the elevator while Amelia clutched her sketchbook tightly. It was the first time she had a corporate meeting of such magnitude. Trembling, she began to apply gloss to her lips. Next to her was Rita, her closest friend at Bella Moda and the person in charge of the company's social media. They exchanged looks in silence. "Do you think you'll reach a quick agreement with Sinclair?" Amelia's expression alone was enough of an answer for her friend, who grimaced. "Damn... That bad?" "Believe me, I've been thinking the same since I woke up this morning." "Well, on the bright side, rumors say Sinclair is quite handsome lately. It's said he takes jiu-jitsu classes." Amelia frowned, amused by the nonsensical comment. "Yes, rumors also say he slept with his secretary for months," she replied, looking at her friend with a sarcastic expression. "But they say he's really good in bed," her friend whispered discreetly, laughing, as she left the elevator. "And also that he's a jerk," Amelia replied again in the same tone, sharing one last smile with her before saying goodbye and heading to her destination: the building across the street. Just from the simple exterior facade, the contrast with Bella Moda was noticeable. An imposing, sober, and simple building. Amelia lifted her head for a moment, wondering how many floors it must have. She stepped inside, instantly immersed in the chaos surrounding her. People kept coming and going, all moving everywhere. She clutched her notebook, somewhat horrified by the situation. Walked to the receptionist and couldn't help but be amazed at the lobby, all marble, with velvet sofas and chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. Everything looked luxurious and very expensive. "Amelia Johnson? From Bella Moda?" She raised her head as soon as she heard her name, noticing that it came from the receptionist, who greeted her with a broad and warm smile, which she quickly returned. "Yes, I'm looking for..." "Mr. Sinclair, I know. He's expecting you in his office. Top floor." Amelia nodded in thanks and, without wasting any more time, got into the elevator. She checked that everything was in order: hair, clothes, makeup. She adjusted her shoes and took a deep breath, reminding herself that she had faced more challenging situations. But when the elevator doors opened to the executive floor, she couldn't help but feel like she was entering the lion's den. She saw him from afar, thanks to the transparent walls. It was the first time she had seen him outside of news and social media. He didn't seem to have noticed her presence yet. On the other hand, a knock was heard on his office door. Nathan looked up when Amelia was shown into his office by his secretary. Their eyes met, and for a brief moment, the outside world seemed to fade away. The intense gaze of the brunette distracted him for a moment, though he recovered instantly. Nathan was impressed by her determined personality, even without her saying a word. It was evident in the firmness of her jaw and the sparkle in her eyes. Amelia, in turn, was surprised by Nathan's imposing presence, especially his piercing blue eyes. During their brief approach to shake hands, she could smell his strong cologne and facial lotion. His hands, though large, were surprisingly soft. The confidence on his face contrasted with the chaos she had prepared for just moments earlier. "Miss Johnson." Nathan began, with a cold and measured voice typical of corporate meetings. "Please, take a seat..." "Mr. Sinclair." She replied curtly and sat down, placing her sketchbook on the table between them.