usive to me

nterprises-Damon's sharp voice, the relentless pace, the never-ending meetings, with m

uld squeeze shut my eyes and whisper to m

ing didn't mean it. Especially not in

ves had twisted in

. Damon had said nothing formal about giving me the job. No promises. No reassur

based on gut feelings or vague impressions. They

deep sleep, he had had enough and

and grabbed my coffee to s

ld; the rest was no lo

amned hard to believe

trayals, and the humiliations, winning no

pacing whe

ch so fast it nearly s

nown n

rt lur

naged a near-

ra Ev

ssional tone bel

ch stiffened in

inator. He asked me to formally offer you the positio

lin

truly thought I mu

ping my hand over my mouth to keep the ridi

lightly fazed by the sorry state of my composure. "After reviewing it thoroughly, Mr. Cross expec

pped the phone like

Miss E

es

served reputation for brutality. Most emp

d say anything, s

nt, the tissues still against my

the

the

s, disbelieving sound, si

t in piece after slow, painful piece, after the nights I had spent crying myself to sleep, tortu

was m

s hard-

n an app

redem

ht after too many year

my inbox within one hour,

gh the document, my eyes widenin

previous salary really was almost laughable, the benefits were downright am

h I were inhali

lf that nothing eluded me, then printed it and signed it

felt like a door sla

ridda

rofessional, and gracious ne

e than just tossing on a fe

of panicky all over again at the sight

me straight f

one that I actually wore was for the interview,

, I remind

tag didn

out the way I

ut wrinkles, polishing my heels, and ensuring ev

work,

lways

oon, everything

tional pieces with just-in-case possibilities. I packed i

of the suitcase, I found a s

woman who had broken

anym

her turn

not was

nd professional. Tightly clutched my bag with a stomach tied in knots of nervousness and excitement. The receptionist, a different woman from

h a thrill - and familiarized myself with the computer setup, email system, and calendar app. Everything was efficient. Organized. Ruthlessly streamlined. Just like Damon himself. I had just finished entering my credentials when a shadow fell across the desk. I looked up - and there he was. Damon Cross. When the sun glares down, even more intimidating. He wore a fitted black suit today: crisp, powerful, and dark eyes locked into mine with that same piercing focus. "You're early," he said. "I wanted to make sure I was fully prepared before we left for Chicago," I replied, standing. He barely lifted the corner of his mouth, the barest hint of a smile. "Good." He handed me a slim packet of documents. "Meeting agenda. Flight itinerary. Client profiles. Familiarize yourself before we land." I took the packet carefully,