CHAPTER TWO: RUN GIRL
1170 Words
Lilian's pov
The apartment smelled faintly of burnt coffee and cheap air freshener — lavender, but the kind that never fooled anyone. Lilian Carter sat cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by half-unpacked boxes and a tiny fan that clicked every time it turned. It was the fourth time that morning it had clicked her awake.
She rubbed her face, staring at the sunlight filtering through blinds that had seen better days. This was her new life.
A small, one-bedroom apartment with thin walls, a leaky faucet, and rent that already felt impossible. But it was quiet. No shouting neighbors, no flashing cameras, no police at her door. Just quiet — the kind that didn’t ask questions.
She could live with that.
The coffee maker sputtered one last time before giving up completely. “Of course,” she muttered, tossing the cup into the sink. Her phone buzzed on the counter — a message from Bella 💅.
BELLA: Are you alive or still pretending to be a ghost in that apartment?
BELLA: Don’t forget rent’s due Friday, love u 💋
Lilian sighed and typed back:
LILIAN: I’m fine. Just tired. I’ll have the rent. Promise.
She added a smiling emoji, the digital equivalent of makeup over a bruise.
The truth was, her savings were disappearing faster than she expected. The bartending job at The Blue Door barely covered utilities, and her landlord had already reminded her twice about “timely payments.”
Still, she told herself this was what she wanted. A fresh start. New city. New name — well, not exactly new, just one she’d stopped signing for a while. No one here needed to know what happened in Chicago. No one needed to connect the dots between Lilian Carter, marketing graduate, and the woman the newspapers once called “the assistant who vanished.”
She pushed the thought away before it pulled her under.
The sound of the door creaking open made her jump, but it was only Bella, breezing in like a storm in a sundress. Her curly hair bounced as she dropped two shopping bags on the counter.
“Morning, sunshine!” Bella chirped, plopping onto the couch. “You look like someone who’s either meditating or regretting life choices.”
“Both,” Lilian said dryly.
“Perfect. That means you’re ready for coffee and gossip.”
“Coffee’s broken.”
“Then I’m twice as essential,” Bella said, waving two takeaway cups like victory flags. “One caramel latte, one black — because you like pretending you’re stronger than caffeine.”
Lilian managed a small smile. “You’re a lifesaver.”
“I know. So,” Bella said, crossing her legs dramatically. “Tell me why my favorite runaway roommate looks like she hasn’t slept since the Great Depression.”
Lilian sighed, running a hand through her hair. “I’m just… tired, Bells. Between the bar shifts and trying to make the rent, I feel like I’m treading water.”
Bella frowned. “You could do better than that bar. You’ve got a degree, babe. Use it.”
Lilian gave a small, humorless laugh. “In marketing. What am I supposed to do with that here? Sell flyers for nightclubs?”
Bella’s eyes sparkled mischievously. “Actually…”
Lilian groaned. “Oh no. I know that look.”
Bella ignored her, pulling a folded newspaper from her tote. “I found something while waiting for my bus. Listen to this — ‘Executive Secretary Needed. Hale Enterprises seeks a professional, organized individual for a full-time position. Excellent pay, benefits, immediate start.’”
Lilian blinked. “A secretary job?”
“Yes! A fancy one. Office job, good hours, actual air conditioning — not that sauna you work in at the bar.”
“Bella, I can’t—”
“Why not?”
“I’m not qualified for that.”
Bella scoffed. “You literally ran marketing campaigns in Chicago. You could run circles around some billionaire’s assistant.”
Lilian hesitated. She hated how tempting it sounded. “They probably want someone with experience. Someone… perfect.”
Bella rolled her eyes. “You are perfect. Or have you looked in a mirror recently?”
Lilian snorted. “Perfect people don’t live in apartments where the fan clicks like it’s counting down to doomsday.”
Bella leaned forward, serious now. “You’ve been hiding long enough, Lil. Whatever happened before — you can’t let it keep you from living. You said you wanted a new start. This could be it.”
The words hung heavy between them.
Lilian looked down at the paper, at the bold black letters HALE ENTERPRISES. She’d seen the name before, somewhere on billboards or news articles about America’s youngest self-made billionaire. Aron Hale. She remembered his face from a magazine once — sharp suit, sharper stare. He looked like the kind of man who didn’t have time for people with complicated pasts.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she murmured.
Bella wasn’t giving up. “Come on. Just apply. What’s the worst that can happen?”
Lilian wanted to laugh — she could think of a thousand “worsts.” Someone recognizing her name. Someone connecting her to the scandal she’d spent a year outrunning. The press photo that still floated around the internet, the one with her looking scared and small under courtroom lighting.
But then again… maybe no one would connect the dots. It had been long enough. Different city. New haircut. New version of herself.
She looked at the newspaper again.
“Fine,” she said softly. “I’ll try.”
Bella squealed, clapping her hands. “Yes! My influence wins again.”
Lilian shook her head, smiling in spite of herself. “You’re impossible.”
“I prefer irresistible.”
The two of them laughed, and for a moment, the heaviness lifted.
After Bella left for her salon shift, the apartment fell quiet again. Lilian cleaned up, folded laundry, and sat at her small desk with her laptop. The screen glowed back at her — a blank job application form.
Name.
Education.
Experience.
She filled them in mechanically until she reached the line that made her pause:
Have you ever been involved in legal proceedings?
Her stomach twisted. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard.
No.
She hit “submit” before she could think twice.
The silence afterward was deafening. She closed her laptop and pressed her palms to her eyes, whispering to herself, “It’s just a job. A job, that’s all.”
Outside, the city lights flickered on one by one, stretching across the skyline like tiny promises. She didn’t know that in less than a week, those same lights would reflect off the mirrored walls of Hale Enterprises — and off the eyes of a man whose life was about to collide with hers in ways neither of them could predict.
But for now, she exhaled. For the first time in months, she felt something that wasn’t fear.
She felt hope.
- Writer
