Olivia:

“You,” his voice was low and heavy.

My heart sank to my feet as soon as I saw his face, fluttering in my stomach on its way down.

All my hopes deflated together with my heavy exhale the second my eyes met his.

I shut my eyes briefly, trying to summon the motivation to face this interview. It was about to be nothing short of a total disaster.

His eyes dipped toward me, making my cheeks flush all shades of red, the intensity of his stare burning me to my core. Having him look at me that way shouldn’t harvest this kind of reaction.

“Good morning,” I muttered, my tone flat and my smile fake, hoping my voice would break his reverie.

With a small shake of his head, he finally broke eye contact, shifting his gaze to the rest of the people sitting at the table.

“Is my schedule right, or have you moved things around? I thought we were expecting a Mr. Hawthorne?”

He asked, the assistant flipping through the thin stack of papers he held in his hands.

“This is Miss Olivia Hawthorne,” Mr. Richard Hayes clarified.

“I understand you two know each other?”

Somehow the complication in his question didn’t seem innocent or platonic.

I opened my mouth to refute, but Mr. Dominic Hayes was quicker on the trigger.

“No, we just bumped into each other once. It’s nothing, sir.”

His eyes pierced through me, waiting to see if I was going to say something else. But it was best to leave it at that.

“Alright then, let’s proceed.”

“First of all, thank you for coming. As I was saying, I’m Richard Hayes, founder and CEO of Hayes Industries. This is my assistant, Jacob Durst, and this is Hayes Industries’ Human Resource Manager, Mrs. Kayla Morgan. This here is my son, Dominic Hayes, who’s going to take over soon.”

Did he just say son?

I slept with the heir to Hayes Industries without knowing. How was I supposed to get this job now?

Oh, I screwed up. Big. Fucking. Time.

“I’m sure you’re well aware that our available position is for our Marketing and PR Associate, under Dominic’s supervision,” Mr. Hayes explained.

And although I was doing my best to focus, I couldn’t help but keep Dominic in my peripheral vision.

“That’s where your portfolio stands out.”

There was something magnetizing about Dominic, and I was drawn to his every move like a moth to a flame. Only I knew for certain I was getting burnt.

I swallowed dryly, watching his biceps strain under his shirt as he shifted in his seat. I was drifting between him and his father, trying not to be too obvious, yet he hadn’t strayed for a second. I could feel the heat of his eyes set on me—my face, my fidgeting fingers.

“So, Miss Hawthorne,” Mr. Hayes snapped me out of my thoughts. “You have an interesting portfolio, but you seem to be lacking field experience.”

“Okay, Miss Olivia Hawthorne, why did you apply for this position?” The Human resource manager asked

I straightened my back in the chair, forcing the words out of my mouth.

“I applied for this job because I know how to work, ma’am, I’ve been part of smaller campaigns in the past, and I’ve worked with local events,” I said as the staff conducting the interview flipped through my résumé. “I know how to market an item and get people talking immediately. It’s always been my little charm. Hayes Industries already has the amazing products. What’s left is someone who can make people feel like they’re part of a community.”

“Very well then,” she said, ssomething on her notepad and nodding slightly in agreement.

Mr Richard Hayes leaned forward to ask the next question. “If one of our riders caused a scandal before a launch event, how would you handle the PR crisis, Miss?”

“Uhm… first of all, I’d try to get the truth out immediately and apologize to the public. If we don’t, someone else might leak the story to the press, and of course we know how journalists can be.” I spread my hands open as I explained. “They’ll twist the story to fit whatever they want, and that’s not good for the company. The public wants real. If we give them that, it makes a solid impact and helps us gain their trust.”

“That’s good,” the he said, the others nodding in unison as they scribbled on their notepads. Everyone—except him. Dominic Hayes.

Then he spoke up. “Well, Miss Hawthorne, you don’t look like someone who would thrive under pressure. And we need someone who can think fast and work under pressure. So, convince me otherwise.”

I could sense he was baiting me. I forced myself to meet his eyes.

“Pressure is not new to me, Mr. Hayes,” I said, my voice firmer than I expected. “I wouldn’t be here right now if I couldn’t handle it. I’ve worked part-time jobs in coffee shops , restaurants and bars where long lines of people would pour in at once, ordering like the world was ending. I learned how to stay calm, how to multitask, and how to keep moving. I toughened up.”

Mr. Dominic Hayes leaned back further in his chair, watching me with those unreasonable eyes.

The silence stretched, the weight of his stare pressing into me. My palms dampened against the fabric of my skirt, but I didn’t let myself look away. If he wanted to intimidate me, he’d have to try harder.

Finally, Mr Hayes cleared his throat. “Thank you, Miss Hawthorne. One last question before we wrap this up. Where do you see yourself contributing most here at Hayes Industries?”

I exhaled slowly, my fingers tightening on the edge of the chair. “Hayes Industries is already a leader in innovation. But a leader also has to connect with people. That’s where I see myself coming in. With PR and marketing, I can make sure your products aren’t just admired—they’re desired. People don’t just buy a bike or a car; they buy the lifestyle that comes with it. They buy the story. And I know how to tell that story.”

The interview room was quiet for a beat. Everyone stopped scribbling on their papers. Even the HR manager’s brows lifted, like she hadn’t expected me to have an actual answer.

Dominic tapped his finger once against the table, his mouth set in a line that gave nothing away. But his eyes lingered, sharp and unreadable, as if trying to peel me apart layer by layer.

“That will be all for now,” Mrs. Morgan said, smiling politely. “We’ll be in touch after we finish today’s interviews.”

“Thank you,” I replied, forcing myself to sound steady as I gathered my things and left the room.