Pressure Points
1315 Words
Scott had never believed in accidents.
Everything at Novatek—every innovation, every hire, every contract signed—was the result of design. To him, coincidence was merely a mask for incompetence. If something happened, it was because someone had allowed it.
And yet he couldn’t quite explain Britney Shaw.
It would have been easy to dismiss her as another intern, another name that would fade from memory when the summer ended. But she lingered. Her work carried precision without arrogance, her manner was earnest yet unflinching. Most interns bent themselves into shapes they thought he wanted; Britney remained stubbornly herself.
That kind of self-possession was rare. Valuable. Dangerous.
So he decided to test her.
⸻
Britney arrived at the office early the next morning, hoping the quiet would give her time to catch up before Rose swept in with her endless chatter. But when she stepped off the elevator, she found Evelyn, Scott’s assistant, waiting at her desk.
“Britney Shaw?” Evelyn’s tone was clipped, efficient.
“Yes,” Britney said, straightening.
“Mr. Ellington wants you in his office. Now.”
Her stomach lurched. “Me?”
Evelyn’s expression didn’t change. “Don’t keep him waiting.”
⸻
Scott’s office was an empire in itself—floor-to-ceiling windows framing the skyline, bookshelves lined with titles on strategy and innovation, a single abstract painting dominating one wall. Everything was sleek, minimalist, intimidating.
Scott stood by the window when Britney entered, his hands clasped behind his back. He didn’t turn immediately. She hovered by the door, acutely aware of how small she felt in this vast room.
“You were the only one who noticed the variable discrepancies in last week’s logistics data,” he said at last, his voice smooth, deliberate. “Why?”
Britney blinked. “Because… they mattered. The data wouldn’t have been accurate without them.”
He turned then, his gaze pinning her in place. “Most people would have overlooked it. Or ignored it.”
“I couldn’t,” she said, her voice steadier than she felt. “If I see something wrong, I have to fix it.”
A flicker of something—approval, perhaps—crossed his features. He moved to his desk, pulling a folder from a stack. “Good. Because I have something else for you.”
He slid the folder across the polished surface. Britney stepped forward, her pulse racing, and opened it. Inside were preliminary notes for a new project—something not yet public, something high-level.
“This isn’t typical intern work,” she said carefully.
“No, it isn’t.” Scott’s gaze was steady, unreadable. “Consider it a test. You’ll have seventy-two hours to deliver an analysis and recommendations. If you fail, I’ll know your first success was luck. If you succeed…” His voice trailed off, the silence sharp as a blade.
Britney swallowed. “Then what?”
“Then you’ll have my attention.”
The words lingered in the air, heavy, layered. Her chest tightened, heat rushing to her cheeks. She forced herself to nod, gathering the folder against her chest.
“Yes, sir.”
As she turned to leave, his voice followed. “One more thing, Ms. Shaw.”
She paused.
“Don’t disappoint me.”
Her heart hammered all the way back to her desk.
⸻
Rose noticed instantly.
“Where were you?” she demanded as Britney returned, eyes narrowing at the folder clutched in her hands.
“Mr. Ellington gave me an assignment,” Britney said, keeping her tone neutral.
Rose’s jaw tightened. “An assignment? For you?”
Britney didn’t answer, slipping into her chair and opening the folder. But she could feel Rose’s gaze burning holes into her.
For the rest of the day, Rose hovered too close, peering over her shoulder, asking pointed questions about what she was working on. Britney deflected as best she could, but she knew Rose’s mind was already spinning, calculating.
By late afternoon, Britney escaped to the quiet of the company library, her laptop and notes spread across the long oak table. Numbers and charts filled her screen, but her concentration kept breaking. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Scott’s face—the piercing gaze, the way his voice had dipped when he said You’ll have my attention.
It shouldn’t have mattered. He was her boss, a man leagues above her, someone she should want only to impress professionally. And yet, some part of her thrilled at the thought that he had chosen her to test, not Rose.
She shook her head fiercely, trying to drown the thought in data.
⸻
That night, as she packed up, Rose appeared in the doorway of the library, her smile sharp as glass.
“You know, Brit,” she said casually, “I heard Ellington doesn’t waste time on interns unless he has… special reasons.”
Britney’s stomach twisted. “What are you implying?”
“Oh, nothing.” Rose sauntered closer, her heels clicking softly against the floor. “Just that men like him don’t see girls like us unless we make them. And somehow, you made him.”
Britney closed her laptop firmly. “I earned this. With my work.”
Rose’s laugh was low, cutting. “If that’s what you need to tell yourself, go ahead. But don’t forget—we’re all replaceable. Even you.”
She left with a flick of her hair, leaving the words to fester.
⸻
Two days later, Britney stood outside Scott’s office again, folder in hand. Her heart raced as Evelyn ushered her in.
Scott was seated at his desk this time, scrolling through something on his tablet. He gestured for her to approach without looking up.
She set the folder before him. “My analysis, sir.”
He flipped it open, scanning. Silence stretched, heavy and suffocating. Britney’s palms dampened. She had poured every ounce of focus into this project, cross-checking data until her eyes blurred, building recommendations with ruthless precision. But what if it wasn’t enough?
At last, Scott set the papers down. His gaze lifted to hers.
“This is… good.”
Relief washed through her, but before she could breathe, he added, “Better than good. Exceptional.”
Her throat tightened. “Thank you.”
Scott leaned back, studying her. The air seemed to shift, charged with something unspoken. “Do you know why I gave this to you?”
She hesitated. “Because you wanted to see if I was capable.”
“Partly.” His eyes darkened, unreadable. “But also because I wanted to see how you handled pressure. Whether you would fold. You didn’t.”
The silence that followed was heavy, electric. Britney felt her pulse in her fingertips.
Scott’s voice dropped, softer now. “Be careful, Ms. Shaw. Excellence has a way of drawing attention. Not all of it is welcome.”
Her breath caught. Was he warning her? About Rose? About himself?
Before she could respond, Evelyn knocked and entered with a stack of files, breaking the moment. Scott’s expression shuttered instantly, his professional mask snapping back into place.
“You’re dismissed,” he said briskly.
Britney left with her heart pounding, her mind a storm of confusion.
Behind her, Scott remained still, staring at the folder she had delivered. He told himself it was about the work. It was always about the work.
But when he closed his eyes, he saw her face—and for the first time in years, Scott Ellington wasn’t entirely certain he believed his own rules.
⸻
Meanwhile, in a dimly lit café across the street, Rose Delgado stirred her coffee with deliberate slowness, her phone buzzing with a new email. She scanned the subject line, her lips curling.
If Scott Ellington wanted to test Britney Shaw, Rose intended to test him right back.
And this time, Britney wouldn’t walk away unscathed.
- Writer
