Chasing dreams

Chapter 2

Within minutes, Hardin pulled into the garage of his publishing company. He hurried inside, muttering clipped replies to staff greetings as he dashed past, ignoring the elevator entirely to take the stairs two at a time.

He couldn’t afford to lose an author—not now. One mistake could set the whole company back. Competition in the publishing world had become ruthless, and both he and Stephen had burned themselves out trying to filter through hundreds of submissions from contests and e-books.

Stephen was already in the meeting room with their potential new author, Clara James, working to seal the deal. Stephen was good with words—damn good—but sometimes words weren’t enough. Sometimes all it took was a touch of confidence, good looks, and charisma to win an author’s trust. Especially one as young and hesitant as Clara James.

Hardin checked his watch—thirty minutes late. He tugged at his ruffled shirt, smoothing it with one hand, then ran the other through his hair to push it back. When he stepped into the room, Clara was mid-conversation, her voice cautious yet polite.

“I do appreciate the offer, Mr. John,” Clara said softly, meeting Stephen’s eyes. “It’s just… I’ve never sat with a publisher before. I want to make sure I’m not losing myself in the process.”

Stephen, visibly tense, wiped his damp palms on his trousers before placing them back on the table. He leaned forward, his tone carrying forced reassurance. “Completely understandable, Miss James. That is why this contract gives you final say on all creative decisions. We are not here to change your voice—only to amplify it.”

Clara tilted her head, still thoughtful, still hesitant. “That sounds fair… but I still feel a little overwhelmed.”

Just then, the door opened. Hardin walked in—tall, composed, carrying a quiet authority that filled the space. His presence was magnetic, the kind that made people sit a little straighter without realizing it.

Stephen exhaled in relief, though his glare at Hardin could have burned through steel. Hardin, unfazed, ignored it completely. His focus was on Clara, who was staring at him with her lips parted, her polite composure already beginning to falter.

“Forgive me for interrupting.” Hardin’s voice carried smoothly across the room as he stepped in. “I heard Miss James was here and thought I’d stop by myself. After all, it isn’t every day we get to meet the mind behind such a brilliant manuscript.”

Clara James blinked, clearly caught off guard by his striking presence. A small laugh slipped from her lips. “Oh, Mr. Stiles, I wasn’t expecting you.”

Hardin settled into the chair across from her, his tone calm yet magnetic. “I couldn’t resist. I read your manuscript. Twice. And I have to say, Miss James—it didn’t just impress me, it stayed with me.”

Clara’s cheeks warmed as she brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “You… actually read it yourself?”

From the corner of the table, Stephen sneered at the soft gesture, and it took all of Hardin’s composure not to laugh outright.

Leaning in slightly, Hardin kept his gaze steady, his words deliberate. “Every word. And I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t believe in it. In you. That’s why I want Dreams Publishing Company to be the one to share it with the world.”

Stephen, quick to reassert himself, slid the contract toward Clara. “As I was explaining, you will keep creative control. We will provide full support—editing, marketing, international reach. But your story remains yours.”

Clara studied the contract in silence before glancing back at Hardin, who was watching her with unwavering confidence. A small laugh escaped her, breaking the tension.

“You know, Mr. John’s points are solid. But honestly… I almost want to sign just because Mr. Stiles’ face should come with its own contract.”

Hardin’s lips curved into a grin, a playful glint flickering in his eyes. “Then let’s call it a package deal. You bring your story, I bring my looks. Together, we’ll make history.”

Stephen forced a chuckle to mask his irritation, but it died in his throat when no one joined him. He cleared his throat awkwardly, his smile slipping, while Clara laughed softly, far more at ease than when the meeting began. Clara James studied the contract, her fingers brushing the edge of the papers before her gaze lifted back to Hardin. He was watching her steadily, his confidence unwavering, and that alone made her heart skip. A small laugh slipped from her lips.

“You know, Mr. John’s points are solid… but I almost want to sign just because Mr. Stiles’ face should come with its own contract.”

Hardin’s grin widened, and he leaned back in his chair, a playful glint flashing in his eyes. “Then let’s call it a package deal. You bring your story, I bring my looks—and together, we’ll make history.”

Stephen sneered yet again, masking it with a forced chuckle that withered into silence when no one joined him. The awkwardness clung to him alone, and Clara shook her head, amused. Her shoulders relaxed for the first time since the meeting started, and she let out another laugh—this time light, genuine.

“Fine,” she said, her voice carrying a teasing lilt as her gaze lingered on Hardin. “**I’ll go over the contract tonight. But truthfully…”—she tilted her head, eyes glimmering—“I already feel like saying yes.”

Hardin leaned forward, offering his hand across the table. His movements were smooth, confident, deliberate. “Take your time, Miss James. But when you are ready… I’ll be right here to welcome you to Dreams.”

Clara’s hesitation melted into something closer to excitement as her fingers slipped into his. His grip was firm, warm, steady—just like the way he looked at her. She shook his hand, her earlier nerves fading into something else entirely.

Clara James exited with a shy smile, clutching the contract. The door closed behind her, and silence filled the room. Then Stephen stormed in, clearly having witnessed just enough to be annoyed.

“Unbelievable! Absolutely unbelievable, sir! Is this a publishing house or a rom-com audition?!” He threw his hands in the air.

“Good morning to you too, Stephen,” Hardin replied, adjusting his tie calmly.

“She was supposed to be signing a contract. A professional agreement! And you—” Stephen stammered, pacing back and forth, “—you stroll in with that smile of yours, and suddenly she’s ready to hand you her soul, never mind the manuscript!”

Hardin sat back, smirking, his voice smooth as silk. “Well, it worked, didn’t it?”

“That’s not the point,r!” Stephen exclaimed, exasperated. “You’re not supposed to flirt an author into a deal! What am I even doing here then? Paperwork decoration?!”

Hardin pretended to think, resting his chin on his hand. “Hmm. Decoration isn’t such a bad role for you. You do brighten the room when you’re panicking.”

Stephen nearly choked on his words, pointing a finger at him. “P–Pa–Panicking?! I’m managing! This is management! Do you know how hard it is to negotiate terms when you’re competing with cheekbones sharp enough to cut glass?!”

Hardin leaned back, chuckling lazily. “Sharp cheekbones are just a natural advantage, Stephen. Don’t take it personally.”

“Oh, I am taking it personally!” Stephen sputtered, pacing again. “She was supposed to listen to reason. To my carefully rehearsed points about royalties and creative rights. But nooo, she practically melted the second you leaned in and did that stupid low-voice thing—”

“Stupid low-voice thing?” Hardin raised a brow, amused.

“Yes!” Stephen waved his arms dramatically. “That thing where you sound like you’re narrating an expensive perfume commercial! Honestly, it’s criminal. If this were a fair world, I’d be the one with the voice, not you!”

“Well, the world isn’t fair,” Hardin shrugged, glancing at his watch, completely unbothered. “And apparently, neither is my face card.”

Stephen groaned loudly, grabbing his hair in mock despair. “Oh, for crying out loud! This is impossible. How am I supposed to compete with that?!”

“Relax, Stephen.” Hardin grinned, clapping him lightly on the shoulder. “You do the paperwork, I’ll do the smiling. It’s a perfect system.”

Stephen spluttered, pointing at him helplessly. “I—You—Arghhh!” He stormed out, muttering under his breath. “Paperwork… decoration… cheekbones… perfume voice… ridiculous…”

“Don’t forget to draft her royalty breakdown, Stephen,” Hardin called after him, still cool as ever. “And maybe practice your perfume commercial voice in the mirror.”

Stephen’s frustrated yell echoed down the hallway, and Hardin only laughed to himself, leaning back with that smug, unbothered smile.

---

Sophie fed in the details on the laptop as she typed away, the reality of becoming Jenna Jenkins’ personal assistant sinking in—it was her biggest achievement yet. Jenna Jenkins, CEO of JJ Beauty Products, a title more than well-deserved. The company stood at the top of the beauty industry, the highest-selling brand for cosmetics, skincare, perfumes, hair products, and more, with branches scattered all over the world.

But standing inside, Sophie realized it was even bigger, wider than she had ever imagined.

Her heart swelled. With this job, she would finally be able to fix her tiny apartment—maybe even move into a better one—and still have enough left to save. She would prove her damn family wrong. After all the years of being underestimated, this was her chance.

Jenna Jenkins was tough, Sophie had heard and seen it herself. But Sophie told herself she was tougher. And with that thought, her grin only grew wider.

“You know,” a voice teased, “if that grin goes any wider, your mouth might disappear. Hi, I’m Aria, from the Research and Development team. Nice to meet you.”

Aria adjusted her glasses and extended her hand, full of energy, smiling gently at Sophie, who calmly took it, still grinning.

“I’m Sophie. Nice to meet you, too.”

A sharp pop snapped through the air, making both girls flinch slightly before turning toward the sound.

“I wouldn’t befriend her if I were you. She’s a bitch.”

The words dripped from the lips of a striking woman as she strolled past, gum popping between her teeth with practiced arrogance. Sophie’s grin didn’t falter, though her brows lifted, curiosity flickering in her eyes as she turned back to Aria. Aria’s lips pressed into a thin line before she exhaled, shoulders sagging.

“Don’t pay attention to her,” she muttered, forcing a small smile. “That’s Lucy Cooper, also from R&D team. We’re teammates, but… she works really hard, even late into the night, hoping to be the next head of R&D team.”

Her voice carried a mix of resignation and irritation, though she quickly shook it off. Then, glancing back at Sophie, she tried to lighten the air. “And can you, um… could you stop grinning like that?” Aria chuckled nervously, adjusting her glasses again and scratching the back of her head, clearly flustered.

“Oh sure, Lucy Cooper. Sounds familiar…” Sophie tilted her head, trying to recollect where she had seen her before. “And she also looks familiar.”

“She’s Jenna's cousin ” Aria replied with a little sigh. “She’s been on TV a few times. She works as a model on weekends, so she’s quite valiant.”

“Oh.” Sophie nodded slowly, letting the information sink in.

Aria gave a small nod as well, adjusting her glasses. “Okay, see you around. I should get back to work, and you should too. You don’t want to get on Jenna’s bad side on your first day.”

The thought alone made Sophie shudder. She gave Aria a quick wave as the girl turned and walked back to her seat.