Chapter 5
1067 Words
The receptionist at Lyric industries
looked up immediately when Amelia walked in, recognition flickering in her eyes. Amelia tried to offer a small, polite smile, though her stomach was knotted with nerves. Everyone probably remembered her as the girl who fell into the board meeting. The embarrassing clip had not made it online—thankfully—but she was certain at least three departments were still gossiping about it.
Today, however, Amelia was determined to rewrite her first impression.
She smoothed her skirt, straightened her shoulders, and approached the desk with as much confidence as she could gather.
“Good morning. I’m here for the interview. Mr. Lyric told me to return today.”
The receptionist’s eyes widened slightly at the mention of Ethan. “Of course. He left instructions. Please take the private elevator to the twenty-fourth floor. Human Resource Suite, Room 7.”
Private elevator.
The words alone made Amelia’s pulse jump.
Ethan Lyric clearly wanted to see her again.
But why?
Her résumé was good, but not extraordinary. Nothing about her background was special enough to catch the attention of a billionaire CEO—unless he remembered her face from the incident, which only made it worse. She inhaled deeply, stepped into the elevator, and forced herself to breathe naturally.
When the doors opened on the twenty-fourth floor, she was greeted by a pristine hallway accented in dark walnut and muted gold. It was quieter, calmer, almost insulated from the energetic corporate buzz below.
“Miss Hayes?”
A man in his early thirties, wearing a neat badge labeled HR – Senior Advisor, approached her. “Right this way. Mr. Lyric requested that your interview be handled personally.”
Personally.
Her heart skipped.
She followed him into a bright office with floor-to-ceiling windows. It wasn’t Ethan’s office—she knew his was on the top floor—but it was polished enough to make her feel out of place.
“Have a seat. I’ll begin with the standard questions,” the advisor said.
The interview started formally. Her experience. Her education. Past responsibilities. He flipped through her CV with a neutral expression, nodding occasionally. Amelia answered as steadily as she could, though she kept replaying Ethan’s expression the previous day—unexpected interest, the sharp focus in his eyes, the way he dismissed the guards with one command just to speak to her.
Halfway through the interview, the door opened.
No knock.
No warning.
Just presence.
Ethan Lyric stepped inside with the same quiet authority that had silenced the entire boardroom days earlier. His charcoal suit was impeccably tailored, his posture straight, and his gaze trained immediately on her.
“Good morning, Miss Hayes” he said, not to the advisor, but directly to her.
Amelia stood a little too quickly. “Good morning, sir.”
He assessed her—not in a predatory or unprofessional way, but with the same measured curiosity from their first encounter. She remembered how, during the boardroom incident, his voice had cut through the room when he asked who she was. She remembered how he had asked what position she was applying for, and how he had told her—still shocked and apologizing—to return for a proper interview.
He remembered her too. She could see it.
The HR advisor rose to his feet. “Sir, we were just—”
“That won’t be necessary,” Ethan said calmly. “I’ll conduct the remainder myself.”
The advisor blinked, surprised. “Of course. I’ll… step outside.”
Amelia’s breath caught as the door closed behind him, leaving her alone with the CEO of Lyric industries.
Ethan walked around the table and took the seat opposite her—not behind a desk, but directly across from her. Level. Intentional.
“I read your file,” he began. “You’re more qualified than you appeared that day.”
She flushed. “I really didn’t mean to interrupt the meeting. I was lost, and—”
“Clearly.” A faint hint of amusement touched his voice. “But you handled yourself well under pressure.”
“I tripped into a boardroom, sir.”
“You stood your ground in a room of forty executives,” he countered. “Most people would have panicked. You answered my questions without stuttering, even though you were terrified. That says something.”
Her breath faltered.
No one had ever complimented her like that—seeing past the embarrassment, past the mistake, recognizing something deeper.
He leaned back slightly, studying her. “Why Lyric industries, Miss Hayes?”
She didn’t repeat the practiced answer she had given to the HR advisor. Instead, she spoke honestly.
“Because I want a place where I can grow. Somewhere structured, somewhere challenging. A place where I’m not overlooked.”
He didn’t break eye contact. “And do you think you’ll be overlooked here?”
“No,” she said softly.
“Good.” His voice lowered. “Neither do I.”
Silence hovered for a moment—not awkward, but charged. Controlled. Like he was analyzing not just her words, but her intentions, her energy, her entire presence.
Then he stood.
“You’re hired.”
Amelia blinked, stunned. “Just like that?”
“You’ll start as a junior administrative associate. You’ll report directly to my executive coordinator.” He paused, then added, “And occasionally to me.”
Her heart thudded. This wasn’t normal protocol. But nothing about Ethan Lyric ever seemed normal.
“Do you accept the offer?” he asked.
“Yes,” she breathed.
“Good.” He extended his hand.
She placed hers in his—and immediately felt warmth travel up her arm. A strange, subtle pull. Familiar. Strong. Like the air thickened whenever he was close.
Ethan held her gaze a fraction longer than necessary before releasing her hand.
“I expect you here at eight sharp on Monday,” he said. “Don’t get lost this time.”
His tone was neutral—yet edged with something almost teasing. Almost.
Amelia nodded, trying not to smile. “I won’t.”
As she stepped out of the office, she didn’t see the way Ethan’s eyes followed her, thoughtful… and slightly unsettled.
Because for the first time in years, something about someone had disrupted his usually controlled world—and he was not accustomed to being thrown off balance.
- Writer
