Alice's POV
My coffee spilled everywhere and all over the person's white shirt.
"Oh my God!" I gasped. "I'm so sorry!" I said and looked up, only to see it was Bryan Hale!
He was staring at me, with his face a mix of surprise and something else I couldn't read.
"You," he said quietly.
I couldn't speak. I just stood there, holding my empty coffee cup, watching the brown stain spread across his expensive shirt.
"I'm so sorry," I finally managed to say.
"I didn't see you. I was looking for the interview room, and I wasn't paying attention, and..."
"You're here for an interview?" he asked, cutting me off.
I nodded. "Yes. I'm Alice Reynolds. I have an interview at nine."
His eyes narrowed slightly. "Alice Reynolds."
"I should go," I said quickly.
"I'm really sorry about your shirt. I'll pay for the cleaning or..."
"No need," he said, with his voice calm. "Accidents happen."
He stepped past me and kept walking down the hall. I watched him go, my heart still racing.
Did he recognize me? Did he remember that night?
I couldn't tell, as he showed no signs at all.
I found the interview room a few minutes later. Other candidates were waiting outside. I sat down with them, trying to calm my breathing.
When it was my turn, I walked into the room. Three people were sitting behind a long table.
"Good morning, Miss Reynolds," one of the women said.
"Please, have a seat."
I sat down, placing my bag on the floor beside me. There was some silence for a moment.
Then the interview began.
"Why did you leave your previous position at Sterling & Cross?" The man asked.
My heart beat hard. This was the question I'd been dreading.
"I had some personal issues that needed my attention," I said carefully. "But I'm ready to move forward now and start fresh."
They nodded, and they didn't push further. Thank God.
The interview went on for another twenty minutes. I felt like I'd done okay. Not great, but okay.
"Thank you for coming in, Miss Reynolds," the woman said. "We'll be in touch soon."
I stood up, shook their hands, and left the room.
I felt relieved as I walked back down the hallway toward the elevator. I heard footsteps behind me, and I turned around, and there he was again. Bryan Hale.
He was walking toward me, with his stained shirt now replaced with a clean one. His expression was unreadable, and that made me really nervous.
"Miss Reynolds," he said as he got closer. "A word, please."
My throat went dry. "I really need to go. I have somewhere to be and..."
"This won't take long," he said.
He gestured toward a small conference room nearby. "In here."
I hesitated as every instinct told me to run. To get out of this building as fast as I could.
But I couldn't, because if I ran now, I'd lose this chance, this job, and this fresh start.
So, I followed him into the room, and he closed the door behind us.
"Sit," he said, gesturing to a chair, and I sat down slowly while he remained standing, leaning against the table with his arms crossed.
For a long moment, he just looked at me, studying me.
"You don't remember me, do you?" he finally said.
My heart skipped a beat.
"I... I don't know what you mean."
He smiled slightly, and I knew that smile was to tell me that he was very much aware that I was lying.
"The hotel," he said.
"Two weeks ago. You were drunk and stumbled into my private lounge. Then later, you ended up in my room."
My face went hot.
"I... that was a mistake. I was going through a difficult time, and I wasn't thinking clearly, and..."
"I'm not judging you," he said, cutting me off.
"I'm just stating facts." He said and looked down at my hands. I couldn't look at him.
"Why are you here, Miss Reynolds?" he asked.
I looked up. "I'm here for a job. I need work, and that's all."
"That's all?" he repeated.
"Yes," I said firmly.
"What happened that night was a mistake. It doesn't have anything to do with this interview."
He studied me for another long moment, then he straightened up.
"You're right," he said. "It doesn't."
I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding.
"But," he continued, "I am curious about something."
"What?" I asked.
"You worked at Sterling & Cross Holdings," he said. "For three years."
My stomach dropped. "How do you know that?"
"I know a lot of things, Miss Reynolds," he said. "Including the fact that they fired you and branded you a thief."
I stood up quickly.
"I'm not a thief; they lied. They framed me because I found out about their illegal activities, and they needed to silence me."
"I believe you," he said.
I blinked. "You do?"
"Yes," he said. "Because I know what Sterling & Cross is capable of. They destroyed my company five years ago. Nearly bankrupted me. So, trust me, I know exactly what kind of people they are."
I stared at him, my mind racing.
"Why are you telling me this?" I asked.
He walked closer to me. Close enough that I could smell his cologne, and I had to tilt my head up to look at him.
"Because I have a proposition for you, Miss Reynolds," he said quietly.
"What kind of proposition?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
He smiled. "One that could benefit both of us."
Before I could ask what he meant, there was a knock on the door, and a woman poked her head in. "Mr. Hale, your father is on the line. He says it's urgent."
Bryan's jaw tightened. "Tell him I'll call him back."
"He says it can't wait," the woman said nervously.
He sighed. "Fine. I'll take it in my office."
He turned back to me. "Wait here. I'll be right back."
"I really should go," I said.
"Wait here," he repeated, his tone firmer this time.
Then he left the room, closing the door behind him.
I stood there, with my heart pounding. What just happened? What kind of proposition was he talking about?