Elena stood in front of the frosted glass door that read *Sebastian Lancaster – Executive Director*. Her heart pounded beneath her neatly pressed blouse.
She glanced at the sleek silver clock on the wall. *8:59 AM.*
Right on time.
She smoothed her skirt down, adjusted the strap of her heel, and quickly checked her reflection on the glass panel beside the door. Hair: packed and styled into a clean, low bun. Edges: laid. Makeup: subtle but present. Lip balm. Mascara. A touch of blush. Professional, but still her.
Her heels clicked softly as she shifted her weight. She raised her hand to knock—
Paused.
Lowered it.
Her fingers trembled slightly. What was wrong with her?
She took two steps back from the door and turned toward the elevator.
*Just breathe, Elena. You've handled tougher things than this. It's just a meeting. With the CEO. The same CEO you've bumped into twice. And maybe dreamed about once. Or twice. Okay, maybe three times—but who's counting?*
She stopped mid-step and whispered, "No. You can do this."
Spinning around, she marched back to the door with renewed determination.
Just as she raised her hand again, a smooth baritone voice called from inside—
*"Come in."*
Her heart skipped a beat.
She opened the door slowly.
The office was modern, minimalist, and spacious. Floor-to-ceiling windows revealed the view of the city skyline. A sleek black desk stood near the center, with a large bookshelf to one side. A low leather couch and coffee table sat in the corner, flanked by potted plants.
And behind the desk sat *him*.
Sebastian Lancaster.
Charcoal suit. No tie. Sleeves rolled just slightly. He was typing something on his laptop but looked up as she entered.
Elena cleared her throat. "Good morning, sir."
He looked at her, then smiled slightly—and noticed how she wouldn't meet his eyes.
"Miss Morrison," he said. "Are you always this shy, or is it just me?"
Her eyes flicked up to his, startled. He was smiling, teasing even.
"A company receptionist who avoids eye contact?" he added. "That's a tough start."
Elena chuckled nervously. "No, I'm not shy. Just… respecting authority."
He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed lightly, amused. "Nice save. Sit."
She sat at the edge of the seat across from him, legs crossed at the ankle, posture straight. She clasped her hands on her lap.
Sebastian looked at her for a moment—longer than necessary, she thought—then cleared his throat and returned to business.
"Well, Miss Elena. I suppose you're wondering why I called you in."
"Yes, sir," she replied. "If it's about the coffee incident, I want to apologize again. I'd like to reimburse—"
He waved his hand, interrupting her.
"I'm not here to talk about coffee," he said. "Though, you did owe me half a latte."
She bit back a grin.
He continued. "I reviewed your file after HR mentioned your performance and CV stood out. I must say, I'm impressed."
"Thank you, sir."
"Online studies in business administration?"
"Yes. I'm working toward a higher degree. Part-time," she added quickly, "so it doesn't interfere with my job."
He raised a brow. "Good. Because here at Lancaster, we value focus."
"Yes, sir. I completely understand."
There was a pause.
"You've got drive," he said simply. "Ambition. But ambition can be both a gift and a distraction."
She tilted her head slightly. "I'm aware. That's why I've chosen this job carefully—to support my studies *without* compromising the job itself."
He nodded slowly.
"Elena," he said, dropping the 'Miss Morrison' formality for the first time, "we hired you because of your capability. But I won't sugarcoat things—this place isn't easy. You'll be on your feet, dealing with difficult clients, tense staff, and long hours. There will be days when it feels like too much. Can you handle that?"
"Yes, sir. I can."
And then, more softly, "I *have* handled worse."
Sebastian looked at her carefully.
He saw something there—something behind her words.
Not just confidence. *History*.
He didn't ask.
Instead, he leaned forward. "Alright. No more lecture. Just don't prove me wrong."
She smiled. "I won't, sir."
He tapped a few keys on his laptop, then said without looking up, "Also… I'm glad you didn't run off this time."
Elena blinked. "Excuse me?"
"At the door," he said, glancing at her now with the faintest smile. "You turned around. Thought I didn't notice?"
Her mouth parted slightly. "I—how—?"
"I have a camera facing the hall," he said matter-of-factly. "Security. But I saw it live. You panicked."
She flushed. "I didn't panic. I was just… gathering myself."
"Right," he said, nodding seriously. "Totally normal to flee before a meeting."
Elena laughed, surprised by his dry humor. "You're not exactly known for being… approachable, sir."
He pretended to be offended. "Who says that?"
"Oh, just everyone on the staff floor."
He laughed now—a real one. "Noted. I'll try to look less terrifying in the future."
She smiled at him genuinely for the first time.