4-month contract with the billionaire son

Scarlett barely noticed the steady hum of the workplace air conditioning in the background. The voice at the other end kept talking, and she couldn't take her eyes off the screen. Her fingers were still holding the phone. We're sorry, Ms. Blake, but after thinking about it carefully, we've chosen to go with a different company. Thank you for your time. The queue went quiet, but Scarlett's mind was racing. Her heart raced in her throat, and her fingers shook a little. The phone felt heavier than before. She should have shouted something and fought harder, but she couldn't find the words. The walls of the room seemed to be pushing into her chest. Hold on a second. She was, but her voice was so low that no one could hear her. The message confirmation still flickered on the screen, like some horrible prank. The deal was done. The business was done. Scarlett? Peter, her helper, tapped lightly on the door and spoke cautiously. Arlett turned around slowly. He stood in the doorway with a tight face and large eyes full of worry. The young man, who was usually so sure of himself, couldn't hide his dread now. The company's failure was just as bad for his future as it was. Did you hear? He inquired as he stepped inside. She nodded, but her throat was dry. We're done. Peter shook his head because he couldn't believe it. No, there has to be something we can do, right? You'll come up with something. Scarlett made herself smile. If I could, I would have done it already. It's done. She looked around the vacant office, and her mind started to race. One phone call ruined years of hard work and working her way to the top. She shut her eyes and let out a loud breath. I'm going to be in my office. She turned away without waiting for Peter to answer. He stayed still, but she didn't care. No one could say anything else. The office was quiet except for the soft sound of her heels clicking on the marble floor as Scarlett strolled back to her desk. They had known this was going to happen for months. Rumors about the company's money problems had spread like wildfire. But hearing the final confirmation still felt like a hit to the gut. She sat down in her chair and tapped her fingers on the desk. The office was too cold. The walls looked like they were getting closer. Her reflection in the dark glass portrayed a woman who had gone through a lot. Her black hair, which she usually kept neatly tucked back into a tight bun, was now a mess about her shoulders. The fitted garment was always her armor, which seemed excessively rigid and heavy. The gentle sound of an email coming in attracted her attention. She looked down, hoping for anything to take the weight from her shoulders. The subject line was short: Invitation. She opened the message because she was curious. There was only one line in the email: the signature or formal greeting. We have an idea that we think will interest you. Tomorrow at 10 a.m., come to Harrison Corp. That was all. Just the name, no explanation or facts. Scarlett made a face. Harrison Corp. She remembered the name, but she hadn't remembered where she had heard it before. She leaned back in her chair, her head spinning. Was it a trick? Another false promise that would just make her feel worse? Or was it the chance she had been waiting for? She held her fingers over the keyboard but didn't type anything. She closed her eyes instead and felt the stiffness in her neck. She had few options left, and this was her first genuine lead. She took a deep breath, pressed reply, and typed the only word that came to mind: 10 tomorrow. She pushed send before she could think about it too much. Scarlett didn't get much sleep the night before. Every time she closed her eyes, the weight of the company's collapse made her chest feel heavy and suffocated her. She didn't know what she wanted from Harrison Corp., but she knew she had to depart. When the cab dropped her off in front of Harrison Corp.'s sleek glass skyscraper, her tummy was tight with nerves. The building shone in the early morning light, which was very different from the tempest inside her. She stood there for a moment, looking up at the building. Her reflection was hard to see in the glass. She didn't fit in here. That much she knew. A pleasant receptionist at the front desk smiled at her and told her to wait in an adjacent lounge. Everything was so well done that it was very well done. The clean decor, the smooth leather couches, and the calm buzz of subdued conversations made her feel like she was in a different universe than the one she had left behind. At exactly 10 a.m., the receptionist rose, and Scarlett accompanied her. They got into a clean lift that went up quickly and quietly. Scarlett walked out of the automobile into the huge Harrison Corp. boardroom, with walls that gave her a stunning perspective of the city below. She couldn't breathe. She didn't think she would feel so little. A man stood near the window at the other end of the room, with his back to her. He was tall, stood up aight, and had beautifully combed dark hair. He didn't turn when she came in, but the feeling of him being there was heavy in the room. Scarlett hesitated, her heart racing as she moved forward. He seemed familiar in some way. Then he spun around. He looked into her eyes. Cold and calculating, but there was something else. Acknowledgment. Ethan Harrison.