Harper adjusted her blazer one last time before stepping into the
gleaming glass doors of the massive office complex her reflection
staring back at her through the glass frames, her wide brown eyes
filled with a mix of excitement and apprehension, her chestnut curls
framing her face in a neat but slightly nervous style. The sunlight
reflected off the sleek building, making her feel both dwarfed by its
grandeur and exhilarated by the possibilities it promised.
This job was a dream come true. As a fresh graduate from a small
town, she had sent out countless applications, hoping someone
would take a chance on her. Main Sell Enterprises, a titan in the
corporate marketing world, had been the last place she expected to
land an interview, let alone a position. Growing up in a small town
where opportunities were scarce, Harper had learned to hustle early
her parents had supported in every step of the way but their meager
salaries as a school teacher and a mechanic was barely enough.
Her parents' words echoed in her head as she walked through the
lobby. the night before Harper moved to the city, she sat at the small
kitchen table with her parents. The dim glow of the single overhead
bulb flickered slightly, casting soft shadows on their modest home.
Her father's hands roughened from years of working as a mechanic,
passed her a steaming cup of tea.
"You've worked hard for this, Harper," he said, his voice steady but
tinged with emotion. "Your mom and I couldn't be prouder."
Her mother nodded, dabbing at her eyes with a napkin. "It's what
we've always wanted for you, sweetheart. But…"
Harper smiled knowingly. "But you're worried." She said.
Her mother hesitated. "The city can be tough she continued, Just…
don't let anyone tell you that you don't belong there and make you
feel less of yourself."
"I won't," Harper promised, though deep down, she felt the same
doubts. She'd grown up in a town where dreams rarely extended
beyond the county line. But now, with her parents' unwavering
support, she was determined to prove that she could make something
out of her life, make her parents proud and not put their efforts to
waste.
"You've worked so hard for this, Harper," her father said. "You're
going to make us proud."
Her mother had smiled through tears, squeezing her hand. "Just don't
forget where you came from, sweetheart. And don't let anyone make
you feel like you don't belong."
Their encouragement gave her strength, and it also fueled her
determination to prove herself. She didn't want to be a burden on
them anymore, though they never complained. This job wasn't just a
career opportunity it was her chance to stand on her own and show
the world, and herself, what she was capable of.
As she made her way to the elevator, Harper tried to steady her
nerves as she walked into the reception, she was greeted with the
fresh scent of coffee and polished floors. The office buzzed with
energy, phones ringing, keyboards clicking, and voices blending in a
chorus of professionalism. The walls were lined with sleek abstract
art, and the air smelled faintly of leather and success.
"First day?" found herself ascending with a group of sharply dressed
employees. She tried not to feel self-conscious, but her thrift store
blazer felt out of place among their tailored clothes and polished
shoes. By the elevator dinged on her floor, her palms were damp with
nerves.
The marketing department was a sprawling of open space, filled with
sleek desks, glass partitions, and monitors glowing with
presentations and spreadsheets. Harper's stomach fluttered as she
scanned the whole room, her eyes landing on the corner office. The
frosted glass bore the name Kyrian Stuart, Chief Marketing Officer.
She'd heard about Kyrian Stuart during her interview, a man whose
strategic brilliance had taken the company to unimaginable heights.
But no one mentioned he'd look like this, Harper thought as the office
door opened, and Kyrian stepped out.
Kyrian was tall, with jet-black hair that seemed too perfect to be real
and a piercing dark blue eye that demanded attention, Kyrian Stuart
was magnetic his every move deliberate and commanding. He carried
himself with a confidence that was marveling, his tailored navy suit
fitting him like a second skin. Harper couldn't help but notice the way
conversations paused as he strode past, his presence commanding
the room effortlessly. Harper felt a pang of curiosity and something
else she couldn't quite name as she watched him.
He was speaking to a colleague, his deep voice weaving through the
technicalities of a campaign strategy, Harper caught snippets-
keywords, projection and market analysis but her mind was too
preoccupied with the way he gestured, every movement deliberate
and poised.
"Ms. McQueen?"
Her heart leapt as Kyrian's gaze landed on her, pinning her in place.
"Yes, sir", she managed, straightening her posture.
"Welcome aboard" he said, extending a hand. His handshake was
firm, and his eyes briefly scanning her face before flicking the
portfolio she clutched. "I look forward to seeing what you bring to the
team."
The words were polite, almost dismissive, but harper couldn't shake
the feeling that his tone carried something more. It wasn't flirtatious,
but there was a weight to his words, a subtle acknowledgement that
she would have to prove herself in his world.
As the days went on, Harper threw herself into her work, her desk was
nestled near the window, offering a stunning view of the city skyline.
She familiarized herself with the ongoing campaigns, determined to
make an impression. The team was welcoming enough. Though she
noticed a few wary glances from some of the senior staff. A young
graduate joining their ranks was likely a disruption to their
establishment dynamics.
By the time the afternoon sun dipped below the horizon, Harper was
still at her desk, reviewing data from a previous campaign. Most of
her colleagues had left for the day, their laughter echoing faintly down
the hall as they headed to happy hour.
"Burning the midnight oil already?"
Harper nearly jumped at the sound of Kyrian's voice. She looked up to
find him leaning casually against the edge of her desk, a steaming
cup of coffee in his hand.
"Oh, just trying to get a head start," she said, willing her voice to stay
steady.
Kyrian glanced at her screen, his expression unreadable. "That's
good. Attention to details what separates the good from the
exceptional in this field." He set the coffee down on her desk. "You'll
need this."
Their fingers brushed as she reached for the cup, and Harper's breath
caught. It was a fleeting touch, but it sent an unexpected jolt through
her. She looked up, and for a moment, their eyes locked.
"Thank you," she murmured, her voice softer than she intended.
Kyrian straightened, his gaze lingering just a moment too long before
he turned and walked away. Harper watched him go, her heart
ponding.
As she sipped the coffee, a small smile tugged at her lips. She didn't
know what the future had in store for her, but one thing was for sure
her new job was going to be far more than just a career move.
Alone in his pent house apartment, a glass of whiskey untouched on
the table before him. The sprawling city skyline glimmered beyond the
floor-to-ceiling windows, but his attention was on Harper McQueen's
file, not her HR file but her a collection of her work campaign
strategies, notes from brainstorming sessions, and presentation
drafts.
He ran a hand through his dark hair, exhaling sharply. Kyrian had
always prided himself on his control, both in business and in his
personal life. But Harper was different. She is brilliant, yes, but it was
just more than her brilliance. The way she lit up while presenting her
ideas, the way her laughs echoed during their late-night sessions, it
was so intoxicating.
But yet he hesitated. The risks loomed large in his mind. The office
gossips, accusations of favoritism, the scrutiny that came with mixing
business and personal life. He had worked tirelessly to build his
reputation, to be seen as a leader who valued professionalism about
everything else.