Chapter.2
962 Words
The Greyhound bus wheezed like it was as tired of life as the passengers inside. Cassie sat in the back, duffel bag at her feet, hoodie pulled over hair she’d dyed a warmer chestnut just two days earlier.
The city she’d chosen Westborough rolled into view through streaked windows. It wasn’t small enough for word to spread quickly, but not so big that she’d get swallowed whole. A place she could disappear in plain sight.
She stepped off the bus with the other weary travelers, the air smelling faintly of rain and fried food. Pulling her duffel strap higher, she scanned the station for the one friendly face she knew Jenna Ruiz, her college roommate from a semester abroad in Italy.
A hand waved above the crowd.
“Cassie?!”
Cassie smiled. Cassie, not Cassandra.
That was the point.
“Hey, Jenna!”
They hugged, and Jenna immediately stepped back to study her.
“You cut your hair and you’re wearing sneakers. Who even are you right now?”“Someone who doesn’t own four-inch heels anymore.”
Jenna raised a brow but didn’t press any further.
“Alright, mystery girl, Let’s get you to my place before you collapse.”
Jenna’s apartment was a third floor walk up in a brick building with squeaky stairs and a hallway that smelled faintly of curry. Cassie took it all in the chipped paint, the too-small kitchen, the sagging couch and felt a strange thrill. This was real.
Over takeout noodles, Jenna leaned back.
“So, job hunt starts when?”
“Tomorrow.”
“You have a resume ready?”
“Yep. Cassie Hale. Admin work, retail, whatever comes up.”
“No offense, but you have a… well… polished vibe. You might scare the locals.”
Cassie grinned.
“Guess I’ll have to learn how to blend in.”
The next morning, Cassie hit the streets with a tote bag of resumes. She popped into offices, one after the other, smiled through rejections, and took the occasional number for follow ups. By late afternoon, her feet ached and her coffee had gone cold.
She ducked into a café across from a sleek glass building that seemed to rise endlessly. Through the window, she could see a marble lobby, the kind that whispered money. A gold sign read:
COLE ARCHITECTURE GROUP
She was stirring sugar into her coffee when a commotion broke out at the café counter. A man in a tailored charcoal suit stood there, phone in one hand, expression sharp enough to cut glass.
“I ordered black. No sugar, no milk.” His voice was low, but it carried.
“Oh, sorry, sir, I…” the barista stammered.
“Do it again. Please.”
Cassie watched, amused. Control freak, she thought.
When the barista turned, she caught a glimpse of the man’s profile striking, in a cold, sculpted way. High cheekbones, jaw that looked like it had been drawn with a ruler.
He turned to leave, his gaze sweeping the café and stopping on her.
Cassie froze.
For the briefest second, his eyes narrowed like he was placing her. Then he looked away, stepping into a waiting black sedan.
Jenna appeared at her side with a muffin.
“You okay?
You look like you just saw a ghost.”
“Maybe I did.”
The next day, Cassie was scanning online job postings in the lobby of the public library when she saw it:
Junior Administrative Assistant
Cole Architecture Group.
Her coffee from yesterday flashed in her mind. The marble lobby. The control freak.
Jenna, reading over her shoulder, whistled.
“That’s the biggest firm in the city. And the most impossible to get into.”
“Guess I like impossible.”
The building’s receptionist barely looked up as Cassie stepped in, heels clicking not the designer ones from her old life, but thrift-store pumps that made her feel a little taller.
“I’m here for the junior assistant interview,” Cassie said.
“Name?”
“Cassie Hale.”
A swipe of the receptionist’s stylus.
“Take a seat. Mr. Cole will be with you shortly.”Cassie’s pulse stuttered. Mr. Cole? As in?
Ten minutes later, a tall figure appeared in the lobby. Same suit style. Same exacting expression. Same eyes that had pinned her in the café.
“Miss Hale?”
She stood, her grip tightening on her resume.“Yes.”
His gaze was unreadable.
“Follow me.”
His office was a minimalist’s dream glass walls, steel shelves, one massive desk with nothing but a laptop and a single sketchbook.
He didn’t offer her a seat.
“Your resume says you worked for a boutique design firm in Harrow.”
“Yes.”
“I know Harrow. They don’t usually let junior staff handle client correspondence.”
Cassie kept her expression calm.
“I guess I earned their trust.”
He leaned back slightly, eyes flicking over her face like he was searching for cracks.
“Why leave?”
“Needed a change.”
“From Harrow to Westborough? That’s… unusual.”
She smiled faintly.
“Guess I like unusual.”
His mouth twitched not quite a smile.
“This job isn’t glamorous. It’s long hours, precise detail, and absolutely no room for mistakes. Do you understand?”
“I do.”
A long pause. Then:
“You start Monday.”
Cassie blinked.
“That’s it?”
“That’s it.” He picked up his phone, clearly done with the conversation.
As she left, she could feel his gaze on her back.
From his office window, Adrian Cole watched her cross the lobby.
He didn’t recognize her not fully but something about her had lodged in his mind and he never ignored his instincts.
- Writer
