Amelia’s POV
I sat in the reception area of Hartwell & Associates, the suit jacket Harper gifted me, pulled tight around me. The office is nice—not Sterling Holdings nice, but respectable. Mid-tier investment firm, according to the website I’d researched obsessively last night. Glass walls, modern furniture, the kind of place that tries to look more successful than it probably is.
My hands won’t stop shaking.
I called yesterday morning, mentioned Nathan Cole’s name, and got an interview scheduled for today within five minutes. The receptionist’s voice had shifted when I said Nathan’s name—from politely dismissive to genuinely interested. Whatever favor Hartwell owes him, it’s significant enough to get me in the door.
What happens next is up to me.
“Ms. Hart?” A woman in her thirties a
