CHAPTER TWO( FIRST DAY)
1102 Words
Natalie
I didn’t sleep.
I tried. I even curled around my pillow, counting cracked lines on the ceiling until my eyes blurred, but every time I closed them, I saw cold gray eyes and heard:
“You start tomorrow.”
Tomorrow was today.
I left Sophie still snoring softly on the couch, her sketchpad covering her like a blanket, the smell of pencil shavings and cheap coffee clinging to the air. I paused at the door, watching her breathe , my chest squeezing with the promise I made silently:
> I will not fail this time.
The bus ride to downtown Toronto felt longer than usual, each bump and screech pulling at my frayed nerves. I replayed every moment from the interview, analyzing the way Adrian Cole had looked at me. Like he could see every truth I was trying to hide.
When I stepped into Cole Industries, the glass doors whooshing shut behind me, I forced myself to breathe. One step at a time.
The receptionist recognized me, her eyes flicking over my outfit—same blazer, same heels—before she directed me to the elevators with a polite, “Ninth floor, HR will take you through induction.”
The elevator was crowded, silent except for the faint hum of someone’s music leaking from earbuds. I checked my reflection in the chrome doors, smoothing back a strand of hair, willing myself to look calm.
I could do this.
I had to.
---
The HR orientation was a blur of paperwork, ID photos, and a painfully fake video about “The Cole Culture.” I tried to pay attention, but my mind kept drifting back to the way Adrian’s gaze had pinned me in place.
“And that’s it,” the HR officer, a tired-looking woman named Clara, said . “Now, you’ll report to the Executive Floor. You’ll be working under Mr. Cole’s office directly.”
Directly.
My stomach flipped.
Clara escorted me to the executive floor, the glass panels and sleek furniture more intimidating now that I was officially part of it. She stopped by a desk positioned just outside Adrian’s office, where a woman with sharp eyeliner and a tighter bun than mine looked up with a flat smile.
“Vanessa, this is Natalie Brooks, the new temp secretary for Mr. Cole.”
Temp.
The word stung, but I swallowed it down and smiled. “Hi, it’s nice to meet you.”
Vanessa’s eyes flicked over me, head to toe, before her lips curved into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “Of course. We’ve been expecting you.”
I doubted that.
Clara left, and Vanessa gestured for me to sit at the desk. “Your tasks will be basic for now. Coffee runs, file organization, answering overflow calls. If Mr. Cole needs anything, he’ll let you know.”
“Got it,” I said, setting my bag down and trying to ignore the way my hands trembled as I booted up the sleek computer.
Vanessa leaned in closer, her perfume sharp. “A word of advice? Don’t get comfortable. Mr. Cole goes through temps faster than he goes through coffee.”
She walked away, heels clicking like a metronome of impending doom.
I closed my eyes for a moment, breathing in and out, before focusing on the screen.
Don’t get comfortable.
I wasn’t here to get comfortable. I was here to survive.
---
Hours blurred into calls, small errands, and sorting mail. Vanessa hovered like a shadow, correcting me sharply if I paused too long or asked a question she didn’t like. I did everything I could to keep my head down.
Until the moment the door behind me opened.
Every nerve in my body went still.
“Miss Brooks.”
His voice was calm, but it made me jolt anyway, turning so quickly I nearly dropped the files in my hands.
Adrian Cole stood in the doorway, wearing a navy suit, a dark watch peeking from his sleeve as he checked the time. His gaze swept over me, and for a brief moment, something flickered there—surprise? Annoyance? I couldn’t tell.
“Step inside.”
I followed him, careful to keep my steps steady. The office felt larger today, colder. He gestured toward the chair across from his desk, and I sat, clutching the files like a shield.
He didn’t sit immediately. Instead, he walked to the window, hands in his pockets, looking down at the city like he owned every inch of it.
“Your first day,” he said.
“Yes, sir.”
He turned, finally, eyes locking onto mine. “Why are you nervous?”
The question startled me. “I— I’m not.”
A faint smirk curved at the edge of his lips, gone before I could be sure it was real. “Lying isn’t a good trait, Miss Brooks.”
I swallowed, forcing myself to straighten. “I just want to do my job well.”
“You’re here to do more than that.” He moved to the desk, picking up a slim folder and sliding it across to me . “This is the Peterson file. It’s been mismanaged, and I need it reorganized and prepared for my meeting tomorrow morning.”
I glanced at the file, thick with contracts and handwritten notes. Legal jargon I barely understood peeked from the pages.
“I—” I caught myself before I said I couldn’t.
“Yes?” His brow lifted.
“I’ll have it ready,” I said, even as panic roared in my mind.
“By tomorrow. Early.”
“Yes, sir.”
His eyes didn’t leave mine, studying me like he could see the fear I was swallowing.
“Don’t disappoint me, Miss Brooks.”
I stood, clutching the folder. “I won’t.”
As I turned to leave, his voice stopped me.
“One more thing.”
I glanced back, heart pounding.
His eyes were unreadable, but softer somehow, like a storm cloud thinning for a moment. “Don’t let Vanessa get to you.”
For a heartbeat, I couldn’t speak. Then I nodded and slipped out, the door clicking shut behind me.
---
Back at my desk, I sat heavily, staring at the thick folder.
Vanessa smirked as she walked by, leaning in. “Peterson? Good luck, new girl.”
She walked away, her laughter soft but cutting.
I looked down at the folder, then at the clock.
6:07 PM.
Everyone else was leaving, packing up, saying goodnight.
I opened the folder, ignoring the ache in my stomach.
I couldn’t leave.
Not yet.
- Writer
