Where Deadlines Meet Desire

Chapter One — The First Day

The First Day

Morning

The alarm went off before the city was awake.

For a moment I didn’t move; I just stared at the ceiling, listening to the faint hum of the fridge in the next room. Today wasn’t just another Monday, it was the day everything could start to change.

I rolled out of bed and padded across the small apartment. My clothes were already laid out on the couch, neatly pressed trousers, a white blouse, and the blazer that still smelled faintly of the shop tag. I’d checked the outfit twice last night, convincing myself it looked professional enough for Cole & Ember, though the idea of walking into a building filled with people whose work I’d studied for years still felt unreal.

The kettle clicked off. I poured coffee into my favorite chipped mug and leaned against the counter. The caffeine wasn’t doing much for my nerves, but it gave my hands something to do.

I’d spent half of the weekend reading about Adrian Cole, the firm’s creative director. Awards, interviews, projects that made headlines. Every article described him as exacting but brilliant, a man who saw things differently. People said working under him was like running a marathon in the dark, you’d either find your stride or fall behind completely.

I wasn’t sure which I’d be.

By the time I locked the apartment door behind me, the sun was only just beginning to lift over the skyline. The streets were half-empty; taxis hissed past puddles from last night’s rain. I breathed in the cool air and told myself to walk like I belonged to this city, to this dream.

The subway was crowded by the next stop, all elbows and briefcases. I found a spot near the door and clutched my portfolio to my chest, my reflection flickering in the window, nervous eyes, a trace of lipstick, the tight smile of someone pretending she isn’t terrified.

I repeated the address in my head: Cole & Ember, 47th floor, Garnet Tower.

Just saying it made my pulse race.

When I surfaced downtown, morning light bounced off the glass towers. The air smelled of roasted coffee and asphalt. I stood across from the building for a long second, tall, gleaming, full of windows that caught the sky, and whispered, “You’ve got this.”

Then I stepped inside.