Afraid of Love

CHAPTER 1

Perfect! I'll choose beautiful, elegant names:

Heroine: Khloe Williams

Hero (wealthy boss): Frank Simon

Afraid to Fall

Chapter 1: The Girl With Walls

Khloe Williams had learnt a lot about broken relationships; she had never seen a good relationship to learn from, so she lives her with the fear of loving someone.

She had watched it destroy people. Her aunt had loved a man so deeply she forgot how to breathe without him, and when he left her for another woman, she spent three years crying and hating herself for giving her heart to him. Her best friend Loveth had loved a rich guy; he bought her so many gifts and treated her like gold treasure, but soon started beating her like a child. Her own mother was a widow, so she didn't really know her father because he died when she was three years old, but the few men her mom tried to move on with were really terrible; one of them even tried to r**e her.

Khole had collected these stories the way other girls collected love letters — carefully, painfully, permanently.

So at twenty-two, she was still single and not searching because she had always made herself a promise, that She will be smart. She would be focused. She would build a life with her own two hands, and she would never, ever hand her heart to anyone.

She was good at keeping promises.

What she was not good at, however, was paying rent.

The envelope on her kitchen table stared at her like an accusation. Three months behind. The landlord had been patient, but patience had an expiration date, and hers had clearly passed. Looking at the envelope on the table, she felt so bad and empty; she said to herself, “If I had seen a good-paying job, with this good certificate, I would not be poor like this even if I am jobless”.

She had lost her last job when the small bakery she worked at shut down without warning, and since then, every application she sent out seemed to disappear into silence.

She picked up courage and wore her beautiful gown, picked up her worn leather portfolio, and told herself today would be different; I must get this job.

She had an interview at FrankSimon Enterprises.

She had almost not applied. The company was massive — one of the most successful investment firms in the city. People like her didn't work in places like that because working in that kind of place most times doesn't work out with just a certificate; you need connections.

But her friend Serena had practically filled out the application herself and submitted it before Khloe could argue.

"You're smart, you're sharp, and you're wasting yourself being scared," Khloe had said.

Khloe wasn't scared. She was just realistic.

She stepped out into the morning air, clutching her portfolio, and told herself this was just business. Nothing more, nothing less. She needed a job. She would get the job. She would pay her rent, rebuild her savings, and continue her very safe, very loveless life, very sensible.

Simple.

The FrankSimon Enterprises building was so big and beautiful, she started imagining herself working there already. Glass and steel, polished and imposing. She walked through the revolving doors and immediately felt underdressed, overwhelmed, and oddly determined.

She checked in at reception, sat in a waiting chair with perfect posture, and focused on her breathing.

She was ready.

What she was not ready for was the moment the elevator doors opened and Frank Simon himself walked into the lobby — because he had forgotten a file, because fate apparently had a sense of humor — and he stopped walking the moment he saw her.

Khloe looked up.

Their eyes met.

And somewhere deep in the walls she had spent years building, something made a sound like a c***k. She found herself admiring him; she didn't know his name yet.

What she didn’t also know was that he would turn her careful, guarded world completely upside down. She didn't know that the man staring at her like he had forgotten how to speak was the most powerful man in the building.

She didn't know any of it yet.

But Frank Simon? He already knew she was going to change everything, because he had fallen in love with her immediately he saw her. He was so lost in her beauty that he almost forgot what he came for.

Khloe was already feeling uncomfortable with the way he stared at her; she had to start playing with the rope of her bag because so shy, her cheeks were burning, and her legs were shaking. She told herself, “Oh my gosh, why can't he just go and why am I even shaking and my cheeks are burning?

Serena had not felt like this before.

Frank Simon did not stutter.

He had not stuttered since he was twelve years old, standing in front of his father's boardroom full of serious men who expected him to fail. He had trained himself out of it through sheer will, through years of discipline, through the kind of determination that turned boys into men and men into empires.

He did not stutter.

Until her.

He had only come down to the lobby to retrieve a forgotten contract from the front desk. A two-minute errand. In and out. He had a meeting in twenty minutes and a phone call before that and approximately no time for anything unplanned.

Then the elevator doors opened, and he saw her sitting there.

She was not doing anything remarkable. She was simply sitting — back straight, portfolio resting on her knees, brown eyes focused somewhere in the middle distance like she was having a very serious conversation with herself. She wore a simple red dress and modest heels, and her hair was packed neatly.

She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his life.

Frank stood there for exactly ten seconds, staring at her, standing still in his own lobby. Then she looked up, and their eyes met, and his brain — the same brain that had closed a forty million dollar deal last Monday without blinking — went completely, embarrassingly blank.

He walked to the front desk. He picked up the contract. He told himself to leave.

He did not leave.

He broke the silence by saying, "Are you — " he started, then cleared his throat. "Are you here for an interview,” he was surprised he could say something at least.

She blinked. "Yes. For the executive assistant position."

Her voice was calm and even, and it made him feel strangely like he was the one being interviewed.

"Right." He nodded. Looked at the contract in his hand. Looked back at her. "I'm Frank Simon."

Something shifted in her expression — a quick flash of surprise, then careful neutrality. She stood and extended her hand. "Khloe Williams."

He shook it.

Her handshake was firm and professional. His, he was fairly certain, lasted half a second too long.

"The interview panel is ready for you," the receptionist called out.

Frank watched Khloe nod politely, gather her portfolio, and follow the receptionist toward the conference room. At the door, she paused and glanced back at him — just briefly, just once — as if checking whether he was still standing there.

He was.

She turned away without expression, and disappeared through the door.

He took the elevator back upstairs, sat down at his desk, and pulled up the interview schedule on his screen. He told himself he was just being thorough. He told himself it was purely professional curiosity that made him scroll through the morning's candidates until he found her name.

Khloe Williams. Applying for: Executive Assistant to the CEO.

He read her resume. It was impressive — more impressive than most. Capable, sharp and clearly intelligent.

He made one small adjustment to the day's schedule.

He would conduct the final interview himself, because he wanted to hear her response to his questions and also spend time with her.

Khloe sat across from the panel and answered every question with quiet confidence. She was good at this — prepared and composed.

What she did not know was that when the panel was done, the door would open

one more time.

And the man from the lobby would walk in and interview her.