BETWEEN TWO DEVILS

The glass doors of Vance Tower slid open, and my heels clicked against marble that cost more than my car. Five years. Five years since Mateo Vance’s text: _I have to go. This is my shot._ Five years since I deleted every photo, every memory, every piece of him. “Miss Delgado? Interview Room 12. Mr. Vance is waiting.” My heart didn’t beat. It flatlined. I told myself this was just another job interview. New city. New start. No him. New York had millions of people. The odds he’d be the CEO were zero. The odds were wrong. He sat behind a desk of black glass, back to the floor-to-ceiling windows. Manhattan sprawled behind him like he owned it. Broad shoulders in a tailored navy suit. Dark hair, short and sharp. He didn’t turn when I entered. “Please, have a seat,” his assistant said. I sat. Across from the man who’d broken me at 22. Mateo Vance finally looked up. Those eyes—dark, cold, unreadable—scanned my resume. Then my face. One second. Two seconds. Nothing. No flicker. No recognition. Like I was any other candidate. Like he’d never whispered my name in the dark. Like he’d never left me crying on our dorm room floor. He set the resume down. Steepled his fingers. “You’re overqualified for a personal assistant role, Ms. Delgado,” he said. Flat. Corporate. No emotion. “Master’s from NYU. Three years at Sterling & Co.” “Yes, sir.” My voice came out steady. I was proud of that. “Why this position?” He didn’t look at me. His eyes were already back on his monitor. Dismissed me without dismissing me. “Career growth.” The lie tasted like ash. He nodded once. Silence filled the room. Heavy. Suffocating. The kind of silence that used to come before he’d pull me onto his lap and kiss me stupid. Now it just felt like a grave. His phone buzzed. He answered it without breaking eye contact with his screen. “Vance. Make it quick.” I sat there while he discussed a 50 million dollar merger. Like I wasn’t in the room. Like I was furniture. It hurt more than if he’d yelled. Five minutes passed. He hung up. Finally looked at me again. Those cold CEO eyes gave me nothing. “You’ll hear from HR,” he said. “Next candidate.” That was it. No questions about my experience. No “do you have questions for me.” Just dismissal. I stood. My legs shook. I walked to the door. “Ms. Delgado.” I froze. Didn’t turn around. Couldn’t breathe. “Your tie is crooked.” He still didn’t look up from his monitor. I reached up. Straightened the silk tie I’d worn to look professional. My hands trembled. “Thank you, Mr. Vance,” I whispered. No response. The sound of him typing filled the room. Like I’d never existed. I walked out. The glass doors closed behind me with a soft hiss. Only when I was in the elevator did I let myself fall apart. Only when the doors shut did I press my forehead to the cold steel and wonder how he could look at me like I was a stranger. How he could pretend five years never happened. The doors opened to the lobby. I stepped out, pulling myself together piece by piece. Behind me, 42 floors up, Mateo Vance stopped typing. His jaw clenched. His fist curled on the desk. He’d recognized her the second she walked in. He just wouldn’t let her know.