Chapter 2: Bound By Business
1631 Words
Chapter Two – Bound by Business
Selena didn’t sleep.
She tossed in silk sheets, staring at the ceiling of her Brooklyn loft, her mind haunted by two words.
“I wanted you.”
It wasn’t the tone. Or the pause. It was the fact that Jared Cole had said it at all.
After everything.
By morning, her espresso machine was working overtime and so was her temper. Her assistant, Ava, trailed behind her in the studio.
“I still can’t believe it was him,” Ava whispered, slipping her heels off under the desk. “You didn’t punch him in the throat. I’m impressed.”
“I was tempted,” Selena muttered, flipping through the hotel’s blueprints again.
“You’re not seriously considering this, right? Tell me you’re not that crazy.”
Selena didn’t answer.
Ava gasped. “Selena.”
“It’s a $12 million renovation,” Selena said quietly. “With full creative control.”
“From your ex-husband.”
“Who I haven’t spoken to in five years.”
“Who once told you your ‘emotional outbursts’ were inconvenient during a gala,” Ava added. “Remember that?”
Selena sighed. “I remember everything.”
There was a knock at the studio door. Ava stood, heels abandoned.
A courier entered, holding a sleek black envelope.
“For Miss Moore,” he said.
Selena frowned. “From who?”
He just nodded, handed it off, and vanished like a ghost.
Ava arched a brow. “If there’s a diamond ring in there, I’m calling the cops.”
Selena opened the envelope. Inside was a printed contract, thick and bound, and a note in familiar handwriting.
“No strings. Just the opportunity you deserve. - J”
Below it, a sticky note:
Dinner. My office. 7PM. To discuss terms. Or throw wine in my face. Your choice.
Ava peered over her shoulder. “He wrote you a note? That’s dangerously close to... human.”
Selena didn’t respond.
Her heart did.
---
At 6:58PM, Selena stepped out of the elevator onto the top floor of Cole International. The doors opened into a private lobby—marble floors, black and gold finishes, and silence so thick it hummed.
The receptionist waved her in like she’d been expected all day.
When she entered Jared’s office, he was already pouring a drink.
“Scotch?” he asked, offering the glass.
“Still don’t drink with liars,” she replied smoothly.
“Then it’s yours,” he said, taking the first sip himself. “To prove I’m not trying to poison you.”
She sat across from him, her posture regal, chin slightly raised. “Let’s talk terms.”
He handed her a fresh copy of the contract. “I’ve highlighted the creative boundaries. Or lack thereof. Budget, timeline, teams. It’s your canvas, Selena.”
“Why me?” she asked, eyes locked on his.
“I told you yesterday.”
“That you wanted me,” she said. “But you didn’t say why.”
Jared hesitated. Just enough to notice.
“Because you’re the best,” he said. “And because this hotel needs more than luxury—it needs meaning. You’ve always understood how to build something that breathes.”
Selena blinked. That... wasn’t what she expected.
“I’ve changed,” he added, quiet now. “A little.”
She laughed bitterly. “You changed? After five years of silence?”
“I didn't know how to fix what I broke.”
“No,” she said. “You didn’t try. You let me pack my bags and walk out.”
“I didn’t stop you,” he admitted. “Because I thought it was what you wanted.”
“What I wanted was for you to fight for me, Jared,” she snapped. “To show up for once. To feel something.”
Silence stretched like elastic between them.
Then—he leaned forward, elbows on the table.
“I can’t undo that,” he said. “But I can give you this project. No strings. No emotional blackmail. Just work.”
“And what about your fiancée?” Selena asked. “Does she know you’re hiring your ex-wife?”
Jared didn’t blink. “Tessa and I… we’re complicated right now.”
“Translation: it’s falling apart.”
He didn’t deny it.
Selena sat back, folding her arms. “You’re giving me a lot of power here.”
“I trust you.”
She raised a brow. “That’s new.”
“I had to learn,” Jared said. “Losing you forced that.”
There it was again—truth sliding between the cracks.
She hated how it stirred something in her chest.
Selena glanced at the contract. Her name looked strange printed next to his.
“Do I get final say on everything?”
“Everything,” he confirmed.
“And you stay out of my way?”
He smirked. “Mostly.”
She sighed, stared at him, and then—
“I’ll take the job,” she said. “But you and I? We’re strictly business.”
Jared gave a tight nod. “Understood.”
She stood to leave. So did he. Their fingers brushed as she reached for the folder, just barely. The tension was still there—buzzing like a live wire between them.
Selena paused at the door.
“I don’t trust you,” she said.
“I know,” Jared replied.
Then she walked out, heels clicking like war drums, heart pounding like it used to.
Selena stared at the screen.
Jared Cole: Looking forward to working with you.
Working with her. Like they were… colleagues.
Like they didn’t have years of bruised silence between them.
She dropped the phone on her kitchen counter and paced.
“No. Nope. This is insane.”
She spoke to no one but the espresso machine. It hissed back like it agreed.
She’d rebuilt everything—her business, her peace, her heart. And now Jared was dangling a dream project in front of her with that calm, corporate tone like he hadn’t watched her walk out the door five years ago without trying to stop her.
Her phone buzzed again.
Unknown Number: The initial walk-through is tomorrow. 10 a.m. Hope to see you there.
No name. No signature. But she knew who it was.
Of course he would assume she’d say yes.
Selena grabbed a pen and a notepad, and sat at the counter. She could walk away. But why should she?
He left her hollow and heartbroken once. She wasn’t that woman anymore.
So she wrote two words at the top of the page in bold ink:
Rules. Boundaries.
If she was going to take this job—and she hadn’t officially said yes yet—it would be on her terms.
Rule #1: No personal talk.
Rule #2: Strictly professional communication.
Rule #3: Never be alone with him. Ever.
Rule #4: Don’t fall for his eyes.
Rule #5: Don’t fall. Period.
She underlined that last one.
Hard.
---
The next morning, the construction site buzzed with noise and sawdust. Hard hats bobbed between scaffolding and sheets of blueprint paper. Selena adjusted the white one on her head and clutched her tablet like a shield.
Jared was already there, standing with two foremen. He wore a black coat, tailored to perfection, and not a speck of dust dared touch him.
He turned the moment she stepped onto the marble entryway. Their eyes met. Something silent passed between them.
“You’re early,” he said, walking toward her.
“So are you,” she replied, voice even.
“I always am.”
Selena forced a tight smile. “Of course you are. Billionaire time management, right?”
His lips twitched, but he didn’t bite. “I wasn’t sure you’d come.”
“I wasn’t sure either,” she said honestly. “But I have a few ground rules.”
“Ground rules?” he repeated, arching an eyebrow.
“Yes. If I’m doing this—”
“You are,” he interrupted. Calm. Certain.
She narrowed her eyes. “If I’m doing this, it’s strictly professional. That means no personal conversations. No surprises. And definitely no... whatever this tension is.”
“Ah,” Jared said. “You still feel it too.”
Selena flushed. “That’s not what I meant.”
He nodded, the faintest smirk tugging at his mouth. “Understood. Professional. No surprises.”
“Good.”
A pause. Too long. Too heavy.
“So,” she said, breaking it, “walk me through your vision.”
“Actually,” Jared said, extending a sleek folder toward her, “this is yours.”
She opened it. Inside were detailed notes, timelines, and full creative autonomy.
“I meant what I said,” he added. “This is your project. You do your magic. I stay out of your way.”
Selena blinked. Jared Cole didn’t stay out of anyone’s way.
“I don’t trust easily,” she said.
“I don’t expect you to.”
She nodded, closing the folder. “Then we’ll get along just fine.”
As she turned to walk into the site, Jared’s voice followed her.
“Rule number six,” he called.
She paused, annoyed. “I didn’t write a sixth rule.”
“I did.”
She turned halfway. “Let me guess. ‘Don’t get in your way’?”
He shook his head. “No. Rule six—don’t lie to yourself. We both know this isn’t just business.”
Selena’s breath caught. For a second, just a second, her grip tightened on the folder.
Then she walked away.
Because rule number four was still in effect.
And Jared Cole’s eyes were more dangerous than any contract.
- Writer
