Chapter One

Rianne leaned into me and said, "Stop worrying. You'll do wonderfully, girl."

I grunted at my roommate's mediocre attempt at comforting me as I shoveled my cereal even faster down my throat. Smiling falsely, I managed to answer the tall woman perched on the seat beside me despite my full mouth.

"I'm just so nervous," I mumbled as I gulped down another spoonful.

"Hey, hey, slow down. Unless you want the interviewer's first impression of you to be the girl who puked coco puffs all over their shoes."

I burst into laughter despite my changeable mood, managing to repress the anxiety bubbling up inside of me ever so slightly as I finally finished my breakfast and scrambled towards the door.

Grabbing my coat, I took one final scan of myself in the mirror, smiling in relief when I saw that I actually managed to make a rather convincing businesswoman.

A bold red pencil skirt ended just above my knees, paired with a flowing white shirt that was probably one of the nicest things I owned, as well as a dainty pair of sleek black heels that Rianne, my best friend, go-to pep-talker and current roommate, kindly lent me for this occasion.

I turned slightly to the side, tucking a stray strand of blonde hair behind my ear before I finally pried the door open and faced the day ahead of me. I called my goodbye to Rianne and heard her holler back hers as I galloped down the porch steps.

"Kendrick Corporations, please," I informed the driver as I got into the back of his taxi. He gave me a curt nod as he pulled onto an intersection.

Just as I was reminding myself to try not to look as nervous as I felt during the interview, the taxi started to slow down, until it eventually drew to a stop. I prayed with all my might that we had just stopped at a red light, but I knew when the driver turned around and raised his eyebrows at me expectantly that we had arrived at our destination. Sure enough, when I glanced through the window beside me, a large, glistening black sign greeted my eyes, which read: Kendrick Corporations.

Somehow, I managed to contain my jelly legs as I walked towards the towering building, marching through the glamorous glass doors with purpose. My eyes scanned the words printed boldly across the large glass plaque fastened to the back wall of the reception. I was able to deduce from the plaque that they were hiring several personal assistants.

Suddenly, I snapped out of my thoughts to see the small blonde woman sitting behind the front desk waving frantically at me. I smiled warmly as I approached her, trying to ignore the two towering security guards hovering in each corner of the spacious lobby as I parted my lips to speak. "Hi, I'm Ophelia Morgan. I'm here for..."

"Yes. You're on the tenth floor."

She beckoned to one of the guards with a delicately-manicured hand, still briskly typing away on her black computer with the other. Instantly, the larger of the two stepped forward, nodding curtly in my direction before turning his attention to the woman again.

We stepped in, and I felt a weird feeling in my stomach as we began our ascent, possibly due to the smooth, rapidly-moving elevator, but most likely caused by the nervousness which threatened to swallow me whole. I realized that Rianne was right

Eating that cereal so hurriedly just before one of the biggest moments of my life probably wasn't the smartest thing I had ever done. Suddenly, I felt sick.

As the elevator came to a halt on the tenth floor and two tall men in suits exited gracefully, I suddenly remembered the words printed across the giant plaque downstairs, informing me that there were currently two major personal assistant positions available apart from that of the CEO/President; the Director of Operations' personal assistant and the Director of Finance's, so I could set my sights on one of those.

All too soon, the elevator let out a muffled ding, and the guard speedily weaved us down the various clean, white-walled corridors of the building until he brought me to what seemed to be an excessively spacious waiting room. I took in the large gray printers and large reception desk lining the sides as he finally spoke.

"Sir will call for you soon. Please, wait here."

He nodded curtly once again, before disappearing back down the long corridor we just emerged from. I raised an eyebrow as I settled into one of the large white chairs lining the back wall.

As I raised my eyes, a man with an impressively tall, salt-and-pepper-colored quiff waltzed into the room, his eyes scanning the area rather impatiently. I sat up straighter as he registered my existence, clearing my throat to calm the butterflies in my stomach as he scurried over.

"Miss Morgan?"

"Yes, that's me," I said confidently, sending him my most dazzling smile.

His stony expression faltered for a moment as he speedily returned it, then an unreadable expression took over his face. "Mr. Kendrick will take your interview."

He gestured for me to stand, so I obeyed instantly, hardly processing his words as we began swerving back down the winding corridors of the tenth floor, speed-walking until we reached the door of an office.

"Just in there," he informed me in a singsongy voice. My eyes quickly absorbed the sign attached to the polished door. It read: Nicholas Kendrick CEO/President.

Oh my God.

I tried for a cheery smile and nodded in the direction of the man who was still hovering beside me, my hand going for the door handle.

"Knock twice!" I heard him call out, and I smiled nervously in reply, before rapping my knuckles lightly on the varnished wooden door.

"Come in," a smooth voice replied, and after a final deep breath of courage, I pushed the door open and peeked inside.

A lavishly decorated, state-of-the-art office was before me, and the first thing that caught my eye was the extravagant glass window spanning an entire side of the room and providing a surreal view of what looked like every single New York skyscraper.

My mouth fell open as I took a timid step further into the room. Adorned with various feathery beige rugs, polished black shelves, and even a glistening gold chandelier, this office was most definitely a breathtaking sight to see. However, I didn't get to revel in it long, because Mr. Kendrick cleared his throat and redirected my attention.

The first thing I noticed about him was his incredible posture. Yes, an odd thing to notice, I knew- but his tall and confident composure, along with his crossed legs and the fact that his hands were clasped on the desk before him, instantly told me that this man was very much a CEO and very much aware of it.

Dark trimmed hair, a strong brow, a chiseled jaw, and pale green eyes were enough to take me off guard so much that I didn't actually hear his next words. "Oh, sorry?"

"Alright." I snapped out of my thoughts when he spoke, crossing my legs to unconsciously mirror his position. I tried not to let the light shiver that ran down my arms distract me as I watched his long fingers tap at his glinting black MacBook for a few seconds before he glanced up at me again.

"Okay. Ophelia Morgan, 23."

I nodded and smiled.

The perfectly sculpted eyebrows I had just been marveling at shot up his forehead. He glanced at me and nodded in what I thought was a refined gesture of approval, his mouth twisting slightly.

Damn, this man is so attractive, I thought with a smile.

All too soon, he began questioning me, holding strong eye contact the whole time and turning my brain to mush at the glittering emerald eyes which stared boldly into mine.

However, I didn't feel abnormally nervous as he asked me about my extra-curricular involvement in my college classes, and instead, I provided him with smooth and structured answers each time, keeping the conversation light-hearted by straying off-topic slightly every now and then.

His politeness was incredibly comforting because I knew that even if I did say something stupid, he wouldn't react and sabotage the rest of the interview by embarrassing me.

Glancing up at the clock situated on the wall behind him, I realized I had already been sitting there for nearly an hour. Soon enough, I felt one of my legs inevitably go numb, forcing me to awkwardly shuffle to swap them around.

He noticed this and clearly saw it as a sign of discomfort, then he glanced at his MacBook once more before he sighed and shut the lid. "You'll be notified of whether or not you got the job in an email," he said, and stood up, signaling that the interview was over.

He extended his hand for a handshake and I took it assertively, but my confidence instantly shrank as his strong fingers enveloped my seemingly too-small hand, and he shook it curtly before releasing it all too soon. We said our 'thank-yous' and 'goodbyes' quickly before I swiveled around and quickly walked towards the door as fast as possible in those ridiculous heels.

Just as I opened the door again, I felt myself longing to glance back around. I turned around, and without warning, an unknown feeling replaced my anger.

The jaw-droppingly handsome face I had been gawking at for the past hour appeared to be paired with a jaw-droppingly handsome body too, as from Mr. Nicholas's new position gazing out of the wall-sized window, with his back to me and his phone pressed against his ear, he resembled more of a fit and famous supermodel, posing for a high-end magazine, than any sort of CEO.

Having stripped from the conservative blazer he was wearing before, his form-fitting white shirt left no room for my imagination. Not that it needed to, as perfectly broad shoulders, a deliciously slim waist, and long muscular legs clearly visible through his tight, dark trousers were nothing one should hide.

He was currently using the hand that wasn't holding his phone to speedily undo his silver tie, and just as he turned to toss it behind him, we suddenly locked eyes; pale green to a vibrant startling blue. A gasp left my lips as I realized how completely and utterly busted I was.