Chapter 6

Elena’s POV

The folder almost slipped from my hands.

I stood there like an idiot, watching this Emily Gray person shake Jonathan’s hand, at this point I didn’t even know what to say. So I decided to calm down at least until I was sure.

“Emily comes highly recommended,” Patricia said, her voice dripping with that smug edge I wanted to slap off her face. “Harvard MBA, ten years at Morgan Stanley. She’ll be a valuable addition to the team.”

Jonathan shook Emily’s hand, and then he smiled. Making him look less of a tyrant.

“Welcome to Hart Global, Miss Gray,” he said warmly, his voice was almost friendly.

Then he looked at me, and the warmth vanished like someone had flipped a switch.

“Miss Rivers,” he said, his tone flat and cold. “Meet our new Senior Financial Analyst.”

Our. The word hit me like a punch to the stomach.

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. My brain was short-circuiting, trying to understand what the hell was happening while my pride was busy shattering into a million pieces.

Jonathan’s eyes stayed on me for just a beat too long, and I swear to God I saw amusement there…like this was funny to him, it was almost as if watching me fall apart was the highlight of his afternoon.

“Patricia, Miss Rivers,” he said, turning back to Emily with that same warm smile. “If you’ll excuse us, I’d like to finish with Miss Gray.”

Just like that. Dismissed.

Patricia touched my elbow trying to lead me away, I had to stop myself from yanking her hands off me.I forced myself to walk calmly. I kept my head up determine to not show my frustration at my plan shattering right in front of me.

The door clicked shut behind us, and I felt something inside me crack anyway.

The hallway stretched forever.

Patricia’s heels clicked against the marble floor…click, click, click…each step driving into my skull like a nail. She was looking at me from the corner of her eye, trying to get something juicy from my expression. But I gave her absolutely

nothing.

We reached my desk and she stopped, crossing her arms over her chest with that smug smile plastered across her face.

“Well,” she said, drawing the word out like she was savoring it. “I suppose that’s what happens when you get too comfortable too quickly.”

I set the folder down carefully, my hands steady even though my heart was hammering against my ribs.

“Is there something you need, Patricia?”

“Just some friendly advice,” she said, her smile widening. “For your next job if you ever get one you might want to dial back the attitude. Stop acting like you own the place, being aMiss Know-It-All. I’m so glad to finally see you in your place.”

I met her eyes without flinching. “Are you done?”

Her smile faltered for just a second, and I could see the disappointment flash across her face.

“You should probably start packing your things,” she added, recovering quickly. “I doubt Mr. Hart will need two Senior Financial Analysts on the payroll.”

“Thanks for your concern,” I said evenly. “Anything else?”

Her jaw tightened, and for a moment I thought she might actually jump me in front of everyone.

“Have a good evening, Miss Rivers.”

Then she walked away, her heels clicking into the distance like the ticking of a countdown clock.

The second she disappeared around the corner, I sank into my chair and pressed my palms flat against the desk, trying to steady my breathing.

What the actual fuck just happened?

Well I’m not leaving here until I hear from Jonathan. I didn’t pack my things like Patricia suggested. I just sat there at my desk, pretending to work while watching Jonathan’s office door like a stalker with nothing better to do.

An hour passed. Then another.

People started leaving, heading home for the evening. The office grew quieter, the overhead lights dimming automatically as fewer people moved through the halls. Still, I waited.

Finally…finally…the door to Jonathan’s office opened, and Emily walked out looking annoyingly satisfied, like she’d just been handed the keys to the kingdom. She didn’t even glance in my direction as she walked to the elevator and disappeared.

I stood immediately and walked toward Jonathan’s office.

Patricia’s desk was empty…she’d left an hour ago. Thankfully the hateful witch didn’t say anything again.

I knocked twice and pushed the door open without waiting for permission.

Jonathan was standing at the window with his hands in his pockets, staring out at the city skyline like he was thinking about something. He didn’t even turn around when I entered.

“Go home, Miss Rivers,” he said calmly, like he’d been expecting me all along. “It’s late.”

“I need to talk to you.”

“Tomorrow.” He said. He ignored me after that, closing up his office and walking into his car the whole time. He didn't bother to acknowledge my presence. He shut his car door about to slam the door when I desperately held it open slamming my palm

“Now.”

That got his attention. He turned slowly, raising an eyebrow as he looked at me with that same infuriating amusement I’d seen earlier.

“Persistent, aren’t we?” he said.

“What’s going on?” I demanded. “You hired someone for my position. Without warning, or even a proper explanation at least. So I’m asking…what the hell is going on?”

He walked out of his car and leaned against it, crossing his arms over his chest as he studied me with those cold, calculating eyes.

“You really don’t know how to let things go, do you?” he said.

“Answer the question.”

He smiled then and God help me, my knees felt weak.

“I like you, Miss Rivers,” he said, tilting his head slightly. “You’re smart. You’re bold. You don’t take no for an answer.” He paused, letting that sink in. “But you’re reckless.”

“I don’t care what they think.”

“I know,” he said. “That’s part of the problem.”

He pushed off the car and walked closer, closing the space between us until I had to tilt my head back slightly to maintain eye contact. He was so close I could smell his cologne…something expensive and woodsy that probably cost more than my rent.

“You’re good at your job, Elena,” he said quietly, and the use of my first name sent a shiver down my spine. “Excellent, even. But you’re wasted in that role.”

My heart was pounding so loudly I was sure he could hear it. “So you’re firing me?”

“God, no.” He laughed…actually laughed…like the idea was genuinely absurd. “I’m promoting you.”

I blinked, sure I’d misheard him. “What?”

“Emily is taking over your position as Senior Financial Analyst,” he said simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “You’re moving up.”

“To what?”

“Personal Manager.”

The words hung in the air between us, heavy and confusing, and I tried to process what the hell that even meant.

“I don’t understand,” I said slowly.

“I need someone I can trust,” he said. “Someone who understands how I think, who can anticipate my needs, who can manage my schedule, my meetings, my life when I’m too buried in work to do it myself. Someone who can travel with me, make decisions on my behalf when necessary, and keep me from making stupid mistakes.”

“That sounds like a secretary,” I said flatly.

“Don’t insult both of us,” he said, and his smile sharpened into something almost dangerous. “ You’ll be doing much more than that. My personal manager.”