Olivia

The door clicked shut behind me, and I stood there for a second, just staring at it.

What were the odds? That Ethan Lennox was standing right there at my door, holding a box of cookies like some kind of walking nostalgia bomb.

I still couldn’t wrap my head around it. He looked so different and yet so the same. His smile, his voice, even the way he said my name, it all brought back some of the good memories I used to have about Little Elm.

Shaking my head, I set the cookie box on the kitchen counter, laughing softly to myself. “Life is really full of surprises,” I muttered.

My apartment still looked like a tornado had personally dropped by for tea. Boxes everywhere, clothes half folded, a lamp sitting in the corner with no bulb. I sighed and got to work, rolling up my sleeves and tackling the chaos one box at a time.

After two hours, I had managed to make some sense of the mess. The couch was clear, my little bookshelf stood proudly against the wall, and my clothes were no longer in random piles on the floor. I wiped my forehead, exhausted but proud.

“Progress,” I said to no one in particular.

I peeled off my shirt, took a quick shower, and changed into a fresh oversized tee and shorts. My muscles ached, but it was a good kind of ache, you know, the kind that said you’re getting somewhere.

When I walked back into the living room, the cookie box caught my eye again, sitting innocently on the counter like it hadn’t just thrown me into a spiral of old feelings.

I picked it up, untied the ribbon, and opened it. The smell hit me instantly, warm chocolate, butter, and a hint of vanilla. My stomach growled in approval.

“Damn, Ethan,” I murmured, grabbing one. The cookie melted in my mouth, soft and perfect. “So good.” I tilted my head up and exhaled as I kept chewing.

I grabbed a can of diet coke from the fridge and settled on the couch, curling my legs beneath me. I had no TV, couldn’t really afford one right now, and my mind was too loud for background noise anyway.

What a day.

This morning, I’d been soaked, late, and stressed out of my mind. By afternoon, I was sitting across from Dominic Hayes, realizing I’d accidentally slept with the heir to Hayes Industries. Then, to top it all off, my childhood crush showed up at my doorstep with cookies.

I cracked open the soda, taking a long sip. “Too many coincidences in one day,” I muttered.

Dominic’s face flashed in my mind, that sharp jawline, those intense eyes that looked like they could see straight through me. The way his voice dropped when he asked me those interview questions.

There was something about him. Something magnetic and frustrating and completely distracting.

But then there was Ethan.

Ethan, who had once waited outside my high school just to walk me home. Ethan, who used to burn pancakes every Saturday morning but insisted they were “gourmet.” Ethan, who disappeared to Paris to chase his dream and came back a chef.

I bit into another cookie, smiling despite myself.

Maybe fate wasn’t done playing with me yet.

I leaned back on the couch, glancing at the city lights flickering outside my window. For the first time since moving to New York, it didn’t feel so overwhelming. Maybe things were finally falling into place.

---

The next morning, I woke up to my phone vibrating on the nightstand. Groaning, I reached for it, my eyes half closed.

1 New Message from Mrs. Kayla Morgan.

That snapped me awake.

I sat up, rubbing my eyes before unlocking the screen.

Good morning, Miss Hawthorne.

We’re pleased to inform you that you’ve been selected for the Marketing and PR Associate position.

Please report to Hayes Industries by 9:00 AM today for onboarding. Congratulations and welcome aboard!

I blinked at the screen, reread it twice, then screamed.

Like, full on screamed into my pillow.

“I got the job!” I yelled, jumping up from bed. My heart raced as I twirled around the room, laughing uncontrollably. “I actually got the job!”

I didn’t even care that I stubbed my toe on a moving box. This was it, the start of something real.

I grabbed my phone again, rereading the message just to be sure it wasn’t some kind of dream. Nope. It was real.

After taking a quick shower, I stood in front of the closet, trying to decide what to wear. “Okay, Olivia, don’t overdo it,” I said to myself. “You’re not going on a date. You’re going to work. Be normal.”

I ended up picking a fitted cream blouse, high waist black trousers, and my favorite pair of nude flats. Polished but simple. I pulled my hair into a neat ponytail, dabbed on some lip gloss, and looked at myself in the mirror again before leaving the house.

I chose discretion for my outfit today, maybe blending in and flying under the radar would help me survive my first day. I believed I dressed up in a way that gave me a professional glow. I was fooling myself. I was trying harder than normal.

My mind drifted back to Dominic. I hoped we were never going to meet, even though he was my boss’s son and we were now going to be colleagues.

But deep down, if we were going to bump into each other again, I wanted him to find me appealing.

I mentally slapped myself, giving me a reality check that his kind of person would never be attracted to someone like me or find me appealing. That was that for my delusions, I needed to head out.

“Hire me twice,” I told my reflection, giving myself finger guns.

The subway ride was quick, but my nerves started building the second the Hayes Industries building came into view. I couldn’t believe I was walking into this place again, except this time, not as a nervous interviewee, but as an employee. Oh how I wanted to twirl around the whole building out of excitement.

The lobby was just as intimidating as before. I smiled at the receptionist, who now seemed friendlier, maybe because I wasn’t a stranger anymore.

“Good morning, Miss Hawthorne. Congratulations. You can head up to the 37th floor, Mrs. Morgan is expecting you.”

“Thank you,” I said, my voice still shaky with excitement.

When the elevator doors opened, I stepped in and took a deep breath, watching the numbers tick up. My stomach flipped when it stopped at 37.

I stepped out and walked down the familiar hall to the PR office. Mrs. Morgan greeted me with a bright smile.

“Olivia! Congratulations again. We’re happy to have you on board.”

“Thank you, ma’am. I’m really excited to start.”

She nodded approvingly. “That’s the spirit. I’ll let Mr. Hayes know you’re here.”

I froze mid smile. “Mr. Hayes?”

“Yes,” she said casually. “Dominic Hayes. You’ll be reporting directly to him. He’s leading your department.”

My heart dropped somewhere near my knees.

“Oh. Right. Of course,” I said, forcing a smile. “That’s great.”

Before I could gather myself, the door behind Mrs. Morgan opened, and there he was, in a crisp white shirt, sleeves rolled up, and that same unreadable expression on his face.

His eyes met mine for a brief moment.

No warmth, no smile. Just that same quiet intensity that made my pulse trip over itself.

“Miss Hawthorne,” he said, his tone smooth but distant. “Welcome to the team.”

I nodded quickly. “Thank you, sir.”

“Let’s see if you can handle pressure as well as you claimed yesterday,” he said, that faint smirk ghosting over his lips.

Mrs. Morgan gave me an encouraging look as I followed him into his office, my nerves buzzing.

This was it, my first day at my dream job.

And my boss was the man I’d spent one unforgettable night with.

What could possibly go wrong?