I was unraveling. No matter how hard I tried to hide it, the cracks were starting to show. My nerves were frayed, my mind constantly on edge, and I could feel the weight of it all pressing down on me. Nothing had been out of place since I found the rose, but that did nothing to ease the paranoia clawing at my insides. Every sound, every shadow seemed like a threat.
When I pushed open the door to the restaurant, I barely had the energy to muster a smile. The scent of freshly brewed coffee and the low hum of morning chatter washed over me, but it all felt distant, like I was underwater, disconnected from the world around me.
Iggy was wiping down the counter when she looked up and caught sight of me. Her usual teasing smile faltered as she took in my appearance. "Whoa, are you okay?" she asked, her voice tinged with genuine concern.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Why did you ask?" I tried to brush off her question. I knew I probably looked like hell, but I wasn't ready to admit it. Not to her, not to anyone.
Iggy narrowed her eyes, scrutinizing me. Her gaze sharp. "Have you slept at all?" she asked, concerned as she studied my face.
"Yeah... no," I sighed, realizing there was no point in lying to her. Iggy knew me too well. "I've just been having a bit of trouble sleeping lately," I admitted, forcing a smile that felt more like a grimace.
"Bella," she said, her voice softer now, almost gentle. "This isn't just 'a bit of trouble.' You look exhausted. What's going on? You can talk to me, you know."
I wanted to tell her everything....to unload the weight that was slowly crushing me…..but I couldn't. How could I explain that the mere sight of a flower had sent me spiraling? How could I tell her about the fear that clawed at my chest every time I stepped out of my apartment, or the sense of dread that hung over me like a dark cloud?
"It's nothing, really," I lied, shaking my head as I turned away from her. "Just stress. I'll be fine."
But as I said the words, even I didn't believe them.
I was in the middle of wiping down the counter when I felt someone's presence behind me. Before I could turn around, Mark's voice interrupted my thoughts.
"Mr. Sterling wants to see you in his office," he said, giving me a strange look before walking away. My heart skipped a beat.
Why would he want to see me now?
I wiped my hands on my apron, trying to steady my breathing as I made my way down the hall. The closer I got to his office, the heavier the air seemed to become. It was as if the walls themselves were holding their breath, waiting for something to happen.
I knocked on the door, a soft but firm sound, and heard voice from the other side. "Come in."
As I opened the door, I was greeted by the sight of Mr. Sterling seated behind his desk. The room was dimly lit, casting shadows that danced across his features, making him look even more enigmatic. He had a way of holding himself that exuded a quiet power, a presence that was both captivating and unnerving.
"Miss Turner," he greeted, his voice smooth as silk. His eyes, those cold, unyielding eyes, locked onto mine, sending a shiver down my spine.
"Mr. Sterling," I replied, trying to keep my voice steady as I stepped further into the room. I felt the door close behind me with a soft click, sealing us into this tense, intimate space.
"Please, sit," he gestured to the chair in front of his desk. I obeyed, carefully lowering myself into the seat, feeling the weight of his gaze on me the entire time. My heart was pounding in my chest, and I had to remind myself to breathe.
He leaned back in his chair, folding his hands together as he regarded me. There was a quiet intensity in his eyes that made me feel like he was seeing through me, peeling back layers I didn't even know I had.
"I've been observing you, Miss Turner," he began, his tone even and measured. "You've been doing well here-efficient, reliable, but..." He paused, letting the word hang in the air between us, "I believe you could be doing more. Something that aligns better with your skills."
My pulse quickened, and I tried to swallow the lump forming in my throat. "More?" I echoed, trying to decipher his intentions.
His lips curled into a slight, almost predatory smile as he leaned forward, bridging the space between us. "I want you to be my personal assistant."
The words hung in the air, heavy with implication. There was no mistaking the undercurrent of tension that crackled between us. I felt it in the way his eyes lingered on mine, in the way his voice dropped just a fraction lower, a subtle challenge woven into the offer.
"Your personal assistant?" I repeated, my voice barely a whisper.
"Yes," he confirmed, his eyes narrowing slightly as he observed my reaction. "You'd be in charge of my schedule, handling confidential matters, accompanying me to meetings... I need someone I can trust implicitly."
My mind was racing. The offer was tempting, almost too good to be true. But there was something about the way he watched me, something dark and unreadable behind those cold eyes, that made me wary. He was a man who didn't make casual offers, and I couldn't help but wonder what he expected in return.
"Why me?" I asked, daring to break the silence.
He leaned back again, the light catching the sharp angles of his face. "Because you're intelligent, capable... and because I see potential in you, Miss Turner. Potential that is wasted serving tables."
There it was again, that hint of something more beneath his words. The air between us grew thicker, the tension almost suffocating. I knew there was more to this offer than he was letting on, but I couldn't deny the pull I felt toward him; the way his presence made my skin tingle, made my heart race.
I hesitated, weighing my options, feeling the heat of his gaze on me. I could feel my pulse in my throat, the quiet thrumming of fear and... something else. Desire? No, I couldn't go there, not with him. But the way he looked at me, the way he spoke, it was hard to ignore.
"What do you say, Miss Turner?" His voice broke through my thoughts, pulling me back to the moment. There was a challenge in his eyes, a subtle dare.
"I..." I started, my voice catching slightly. I forced myself to meet his gaze, to not shy away from the intensity I found there. "I'd be honored, Mr. Sterling."
His smile widened, just a fraction, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Good," he said softly, the word like a promise, or perhaps a threat. "We'll begin tomorrow. 7 AM sharp."
"Yes, sir," I replied, feeling the weight of his words settle over me.
As I stood to leave, his voice stopped me in my tracks. "And Miss Turner... I expect nothing less than your full commitment. Do you understand?"
I turned back to him, nodding as I met his gaze one last time. "I understand."
"Very well," he said, his tone dismissive now. "You may go."
I left his office, the door closing softly behind me, but the tension from our encounter lingered, coiling tightly in my chest. As I walked back to the kitchen, my mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, my body still thrumming from the proximity to him. This was more than just a job; it was a dangerous game, and I wasn't sure if I was ready to play.
But something told me I didn't have a choice. I need money….I need to make enough money so I could disappear again.
"He wants me to be his personal assistant," I groaned, burying my face in my hands. The words felt heavy on my tongue. I think I made a mistake. A huge mistake.
Iggy's eyes widened as she nearly spat out her drink. We were sitting at our usual spot in a dimly lit bar, the low hum of conversation and clinking glasses surrounding us as the reality of what I'd just said settled in.
"And what did you say?" she asked, leaning in closer, her expression a mix of shock and curiosity.
"I said yes," I mumbled, my voice muffled by my hands. I slowly lifted my head to meet her gaze, feeling the weight of the decision I'd made hanging over me. "But I'm not sure I should take it."
Iggy stared at me, her eyes narrowing slightly. "You said yes, but now you're having second thoughts? What's stopping you, Bella? This could be a huge opportunity."
"I know, I know," I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "It's just... there's something about him. He's not like anyone I've ever met. He's... intense. And the way he looks at me, it's like he sees right through me, and it's unsettling."
"Intense how?" Iggy asked, her curiosity piqued. She took another sip of her drink, her eyes never leaving mine.
"He's so controlled, so calm," I replied, trying to find the right words. "But there's this energy about him, like he's always one step ahead, like he knows something I don't. It's terrifying and..." Thrilling. I said to myself.
Iggy raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. "So, what you're saying is, you're into him."
"What? No!" I shot back, my cheeks heating up. "It's not like that. I mean, sure, he's attractive, but this isn't about that. This is about my job, my life. Taking this position means I'll be around him all the time, and I don't know if I can handle that."
Iggy leaned back in her chair, eyeing me thoughtfully. "Look, Bella, you're the most grounded person I know. If anyone can handle this, it's you. But you need to figure out what you really want. Are you afraid of him, or are you afraid of what he makes you feel?"
I opened my mouth to respond but found myself at a loss for words. I hadn't fully processed the feelings that had been swirling inside me since that meeting in his office. All I knew was that Mr. Sterling had woken something in me. A mixture of fear, curiosity, and something darker that I couldn't quite put my finger on.
"I just don't want to make a mistake," I finally said, my voice barely above a whisper.
"Sometimes the biggest risks come with the biggest rewards," Iggy said, her tone unusually serious. "But you need to be sure. If you take this job, you have to be all in. No second-guessing, no looking back."
I nodded, her words sinking in. I knew she was right. This was a crossroads for me, a chance to either step up or back down. But the thought of being so close to him, of letting him into my life, terrified me more than anything else.
"I just... I need to think about it," I said, staring down at my drink. "I need to be sure."
Iggy reached across the table, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze. "Whatever you decide, I've got your back."
"Thanks, Iggy," I said, offering her a small smile.
We sat in silence for a moment, the weight of the decision looming over me. I knew that whatever choice I made, my life was about to change in ways I couldn't predict. And as much as that scared me, a part of me couldn't help but feel a thrill at the unknown.