Ethan's POV
The office was unusually quiet that morning. Normally, the low hum of phones and the clatter of keyboards filled the space, but today, a strange stillness hung in the air. I hadn't planned to be here— technically, I did not need to attend this interview at all. It was not for a big position, just an assistant role. My parents had insisted I meet someone else, a blind date, but I'd claimed a scheduling conflict.
Yet here I was. And now, I couldn't ignore it. Not really.
I had just left the boardroom after a brief meeting with the department heads. My head ached from the details, but I had to make an appearance for the interview anyway. It was part duty, part pretense. I hated pretense, yet here I was, stepping toward the elevator with my thoughts scattered.
As I entered the glass elevator, I noticed movement out of the corner of my eye. She was standing by the panel, small, nervously tapping her fingers. Her hair was slightly messy, likely from the rain outside, and the faint scent of perfume reached me as the elevator doors closed.
There was something about her posture that pulled at me. She wasn't confident, not in the least, yet there was a quiet strength in her hands gripping the strap of her bag. She was not dressed in designer threads; the navy dress was modest, simple— but it suited her.
The elevator began to move. She looked up, startled, and we collided ever so slightly as we reached for the same button.
"I'm sorry." she whispered, stepping back quickly.
"No, no," I said automatically. Her voice was soft, almost musical, but she looked away too quickly for me to notice more. Something about the way she held herself— so careful, so guarded— made me pause.
I tried to shrug it off, but I could not. My gaze lingered longer than I should have. There was something… different. Something quiet, yet present, that made me take notice. She smelled faintly of rain and something sweet, a perfume that made the office floor suddenly warmer.
I couldn't explain it. It was unusual for me, even uncomfortable. I rarely paid attention like this. I was not supposed to notice someone in an elevator. But her nervous energy, the way her lips pressed into a thin line as she avoided eye contact— it made me want to know her story.
And then the doors opened. " Good luck." I said to her.
"Thank you." She whispered, shocked.
She hurried out, avoiding me completely, and my chest felt strangely tight. I watched her go, noting the way she walked, the subtle sway in her posture. Cute, yes, but also fragile in a way that made me… protective.
I shook my head, embarrassed at my own thoughts. Since when did I notice things like that? Since when did I care?
Tracy's POV
The lobby of Cole's Company was bright, modern, almost sterile. I had arrived early, more out of fear than punctuality. The receptionist smiled politely as I signed in, but I barely noticed her. My mind was a jumble— what if they recognized me? What if someone here had seen the news?
I clutched my bag tightly, my knuckles whitening. My stomach churned in nervous anticipation. I'd spent the last two weeks with Mrs. Callahan, learning to breathe again, to eat without trembling, to feel the sun on my face without flinching. But the moment I stepped into this building, the old anxiety came rushing back.
As I approached the elevator, I was grateful for the small reprieve the walls offered. The smell of polish, the faint hum of the air conditioning, and the quiet murmur of other employees felt almost safe. Almost.
Then I reached for the button. I did not notice the man next to me at first. He was tall, sharply dressed, with an air of quiet authority. I only realized we were colliding when our hands brushed for the button.
"I'm sorry." I said quickly, stepping back, heart pounding.
"No, no, it's fine," he replied, voice calm, even. Something about it made me look up, just a flicker. He was handsome, yes, but not in a flashy way. Strong, confident, and… strangely aware. His eyes lingered too long, though I didn't recognize why.
I turned my gaze toward the panel, pretending not to notice. My heartbeat was erratic, adrenaline prickling my skin. He was handsome- more than my ex Husband-to-be.
Ex Husband-to-be. My mind froze at those words. Not now- I told myself
I focused on the numbers, the dull metallic buttons, and the soft hum of the elevator motor.
And yet, I felt it— an awareness, a presence. The man's gaze was subtle, but it seemed to reach me, to study me quietly. I cleared my throat, forcing my shoulders to relax, hoping he wouldn't notice how small and nervous I felt.
He doesn't know me. He can not know me. No one can.
Yet something about the way he looked at me— the faint curiosity, the slight warmth hidden beneath his professional mask— made me shiver. Not from fear, but from the strange awareness that someone else was seeing me. Really seeing me, even if they did not know why.
The elevator stopped, and we both moved toward the doors. He nodded politely, a small, almost imperceptible smile on his lips.
" Good luck." he said.
I blinked, surprised. My voice caught in my throat. "Thank you." I whispered.
And then I stepped out, feeling a strange mixture of nerves and… something else. Something I could not name.
Mrs. Callahan's words echoed in my mind: You are worth more than they will ever admit.
I took a deep breath and reminded myself: I was not the broken girl from before. I was Tracy Alcott, ready to start again— even if no one here knew who I really was.
And for the first time in a long time, I felt… noticed.