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Chapter 28 - Chapter 28 - Entering Lowell Tower

 Lina's POV

The headquarters of the Lowell association towered above me, a monolith of glass and steel that caught the morning sun in a blinding flash. I stepped over the threshold with a blend of determination and trepidation, my new security badge cold against my chest. The lobby was sleek and modern, a far cry from the historical richness of the museum I had to inaugurate in mere weeks. 

"Good morning," Rawson Lowell's voice cut through the hum of activity as I approached the bank of elevators. He stood there, impeccable in a tailored suit that did nothing to conceal his athletic build. "I trust you found the my office without difficulty this time?"

"Good morning, Mr. Lowell," I replied, keeping my tone polite yet informal and blushing. My first encounter with Mr. Lowell was replaying in my head. "The Office is quite... well located." The division Rawson Lowell was responsible for and now also my division was located a bit further down than where I last had the meeting. 

"Ah, but it's what happens inside that truly defines us," he said, getting up from his chair. His gaze lingered on me, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes before he masked it with the cool shield of professionalism.

As we walked outside his door leading the way to my new workplace, Rawson briefed me on the day ahead. "Your first task will be to coordinate with the heads of various departments to ensure their needs of our associates are met for the upcoming events. They can be... particular about how things are done here." His voice held a note of warning, but also a thread of respect for the challenges I'd face.

I followed Rawson into an expansive open-plan office space where dozens of people tapped at keyboards or spoke on phones. Each desk was adorned with miniature models of historical artifacts—reminders of the legacy the Lowell Association preserved.

"Your desk," Rawson motioned towards a spot by the window with a stunning view of the city, "And your first pile of briefs."

"Thank you," I murmured, absorbing the magnitude of my role. Despite the pressure, a sense of excitement bubbled within me. This was the challenge I craved.

Throughout the morning, Rawson shadowed me closely, observing as I introduced myself to team members and took notes on their requirements. His presence was both reassuring and unnerving, his attention suggesting a vested interest beyond employer-employee dynamics.

 After correcting a minor oversight in a document, he reminded me, "Remember, the Lowells expect excellence in all endeavors. "We can't afford mistakes handling the associates."

"Understood," I nodded, not mentioning that I thrived under such high stakes.

I had never thought the playful and impulsive Rawson Lowell could be so reliable and professional. His work must really be important for him.

When lunch arrived, Rawson led me to the executive dining area, a quiet space away from the buzz of the office. I looked around, unsure if I wanted to evade or look for Mr. Lowell, but he wasn't there. As we ate, the conversation turned briefly personal. 

"You've adapted quickly," he said, a hint of admiration in his voice. "It's impressive, given your studies and the workload."

"Adaptation is survival," I answered simply, meeting his gaze with a confidence I hadn't felt at the start of our unfortunate encounter at the engagement party.

"Indeed," he smiled faintly, the corner of his eye crinkling just so. It was a small gesture, barely noticeable, but it betrayed his human side—a man who despite his stature, wasn't impervious to attraction. Yet he shifted seamlessly back to business, discussing strategies for member engagement. 

As the afternoon waned, the tension of unspoken words hung between us, an invisible thread drawn taut. Rawson's professionalism was unquestionable, his guidance invaluable. But beneath the polished surface, there were layers I was only beginning to discern, and perhaps, he was starting to reveal.

The clatter of my keyboard was the only sound that pierced the stillness of my new office, a small but functional space nestled in the heart of the headquarters. Papers were stacked meticulously on the desk, each one representing an intricate detail of the upcoming museum inauguration or the work for the association – a testament to my immersion in work and the relentless pace set by Rawson Lowell. He had entrusted me with significant responsibilities, and I was determined not to disappoint. 

It was during these fleeting moments of solitude, when the rapid tapping of keys subsided and the glow of the

computer screen cast my face in a bluish hue, that I allowed my thoughts to stray. To the way everything was going my way.

 A knock on my table jolted me from my musings. "Come in," I called out, schooling my voice to quell any trace of apprehension.

The door swung open to reveal Rawson Lowell himself, his expression unreadable as he handed me a thick file. "These are the latest updates for the museum opening; Susan brought them over herself," he said brusquely with a smirk on his face, depositing the file on my already cluttered desk. "We need your keen eye for detail to ensure everything is in order."

"Of course," I assured him, mentally berating myself for entertaining even a semblance of overconfidence. I was a new employee. But at the same time I was very glad for Rawson's gentleness and attentiveness.