Charlie had barely made it through the week without spontaneously combusting from nerves. Between surviving her first real encounter with Alexander Hartwell, dodging vases, and not accidentally insulting anyone important, she felt like she had run a marathon in heels—and without collapsing in the lobby.
Blair, of course, was absolutely thrilled about every tiny catastrophe. "Charlie," she said dramatically as they sat in a café between meetings, "you are officially a danger magnet. Alexander Hartwell could be dangerous himself, and somehow you're… balancing him. Somehow."
Charlie sipped her coffee, trying to look sophisticated while her hands shook slightly from excitement and fear. "Balancing him? Blair, I don't even know if I survive my own life. I'm not balancing anyone."
Blair waved a hand. "You're literally doing it. And it's kind of… impressive."
Charlie narrowed her eyes. "Impressive is not the word I'd use. Probably terrified is more accurate."
Blair leaned closer, lowering her voice like they were part of some secret espionage operation. "Look, between your humor, your charm, and your complete lack of self-preservation, you might actually be the only person who can survive his world without immediately setting off some kind of corporate explosion. Or literal explosion."
Charlie laughed, though the sound was shaky. She had no doubt that Blair was partly right. Alexander Hartwell wasn't just intimidating—he was calculating. Dangerous. Every word, every gesture seemed intentional. And yet… despite that, he had a way of making her feel alive, almost like she had finally found someone whose intensity matched her chaotic energy.
The day's schedule included a tour of Hartwell Industries' more… interesting departments. Security, of course, complete with a guard who looked like he could bench-press a small car, and a room full of monitors showing corners of the building she wasn't allowed to stare at too long.
"This is like walking into a spy movie," Charlie muttered, clutching her bag like it might be a shield.
Alexander glanced at her over his shoulder, eyes narrowing slightly. "It's called running a successful empire. Dangerous by necessity. Fascinating by design."
Charlie swallowed. "Fascinating, yes. Dangerous… terrifyingly so."
He didn't respond immediately, letting her comment linger in the air like a subtle challenge. That was part of Alexander's appeal—and part of what made Charlie's chest pound. She didn't know if it was fear or excitement, but either way, it felt like standing on the edge of a cliff while simultaneously enjoying the view.
By lunchtime, Charlie was both exhausted and exhilarated. Blair, true to form, had brought a tiny emergency snack kit: granola bars, mints, and a spare hair tie in case the world ended dramatically—and, judging by her life, it might.
"You need this," Blair said, handing over a granola bar. "You'll thank me when you're negotiating with billionaires and mafia-adjacent CEOs."
Charlie accepted it with a weak smile. "Negotiation? I'm just trying not to fall over in heels."
Blair shook her head. "Exactly. You can survive this world and look fabulous doing it. Don't sell yourself short."
Charlie laughed, thinking about the absurdity of her life. Here she was, surviving a chaotic family, meeting the most intimidating man she had ever seen, and somehow finding herself laughing at his dry humor and subtle smirks.
Later, Alexander called her into a private office. His tone was calm but unmistakably commanding: "I want you to observe a high-level negotiation today. Not to participate—yet—but to see how people react under pressure. And Ms. Montrose…" His eyes lingered on her a moment longer than necessary. "…watch carefully."
Charlie nodded, her stomach twisting with nerves. She wasn't sure if he was warning her, testing her, or flirting. Probably all three.
The meeting was tense, with executives trading words sharp enough to cut diamonds. Charlie kept her humor ready, slipping in small observations under her breath—quiet enough not to be overheard, but enough to keep herself from panicking. Blair's voice popped into her head repeatedly: "You're going to survive. Probably."
By the end of the meeting, Charlie was dizzy, exhilarated, and more than a little smitten. Alexander's attention had occasionally flicked to her, and one look—a subtle nod of approval—had made her pulse accelerate. He was dangerous, thrilling, and maddeningly magnetic. And somehow, he seemed to enjoy her presence.
Back in his office, Alexander leaned back in his chair, studying her with a calm intensity that made her feel simultaneously evaluated and… strangely seen. "You have a unique talent for chaos that doesn't ruin outcomes. Yet," he said.
Charlie blinked. "Yet?"
"Yet," he repeated, lips curving into the faintest hint of a smile. "I want to see how far that talent can go."
Charlie felt her heartbeat quicken. Was that a challenge or a compliment? Or both? Either way, she couldn't help but grin. Bring it on, she thought.
Later that evening, she returned to her apartment, heels kicked off, hair messy, and still buzzing from the day. Her cat, apparently still traumatized by the laundry incident, watched her with judgmental eyes. Blair flopped onto the couch beside her.
"So," Blair said, sipping wine dramatically, "tell me everything. Survived the dangerous CEO? Didn't spontaneously combust?"
Charlie laughed, shaking her head. "Barely. But somehow… I think I might actually like this chaos."
Blair raised her eyebrows. "Like? Oh, honey. You're flirting with danger. Literally."
Charlie groaned, but the smile didn't leave her face. She had survived her family, a near-death-by-vase incident, and Alexander Hartwell in the same week. Her life was a mess, thrilling, and completely out of control—and for the first time, she didn't want it to be any other way.
Later, as she scrolled through her phone, a new message appeared—from Alexander:
"Good work today. I'll expect a report on your observations tomorrow. Do not underestimate the consequences of humor in this world."
Charlie stared at it, feeling a mix of panic and excitement. Humor in his world? She wasn't sure if that was a warning or a compliment. Probably both. And somehow, that made it even more thrilling.
She tossed her phone aside and leaned back on the sofa. Chaos, danger, humor, and Alexander Hartwell. Somehow, the pieces fit together into a puzzle she couldn't stop thinking about.
And for the first time in a long while, Charlie realized something: she wasn't just surviving anymore. She was beginning to thrive. Even if thriving meant flirting with a man who could probably crush her in two seconds flat.