Chapter 1
Myra's POV:
The eviction notice was yellow.
Of course it was yellow. Like the universe wanted to make sure I saw it before I even had my coffee.
*PAY WITHIN 7 DAYS OR VACATE*
*$2,400 DUE*
I stared at it until the words blurred. $2,400. I had $312 in my account and a credit card that was already crying.
“Okay,” I whispered to my empty studio. “Okay. New plan.”
New plan was job applications. Fifty of them.
Barista. Receptionist. Data entry. Anything that paid.
And then I saw it.
*Naveen Industries*
*Position: Executive Assistant to the CEO*
*Salary: $120,000 + Housing Stipend*
*24/7 On-Call*
One hundred and twenty thousand.
That was more than I’d made in the last three years combined.
I didn’t care that it said 24/7. I didn’t care that it probably meant selling my soul.
I clicked apply.
My resume was a lie and a prayer. Two years as an admin assistant at a dental office. A business degree I never used.
I hit submit at 2:17 AM.
Three days later my phone rang.
“Ms. Wolcott? This is HR at Naveen Industries. We’d like to schedule an interview for the Executive Assistant position.”
My hands shook. “Yes. Yes, absolutely.”
“Tomorrow at 10 AM. Naveen Tower, 42nd floor. Ask for Mr. Remarez.”
Mr. Remarez.
The name didn’t mean anything to me.
I spent the night ironing the only blazer I owned and practicing answers in the mirror.
_What are your strengths? I’m desperate.
What are your weaknesses? I need this job._
The next morning I walked into Naveen Tower in heels that pinched and prayed nobody could see how scared I was.
The receptionist smiled. “You’re here for the interview with Mr. Remarez?”
“Yes.”
“Go on up. He’s waiting for you.”
The elevator was all glass and chrome. 42 floors up. My stomach dropped with it.
The doors opened to a hallway that looked like it cost more than my entire apartment building.
And at the end of it, behind a desk made of black glass, was him.
He stood when I walked in. Tall. Dark suit. Dark hair.
And the coldest eyes I’d ever seen.
“Ms. Wolcott,” he said. His voice was low. Familiar in a way that made my chest hurt. “I’m Aiden Remarez. CEO of Naveen Industries.”
Aiden Remarez.
The name clicked a second too late.
Aiden.
Nigel’s best friend from middle school.
The guy who used to steal my fries and call me Shrimp because I was so small.
The guy I hadn’t seen in eight years.
He knew exactly who I was.
From the way his jaw ticked, he remembered me too.
And I had no idea that walking into this interview was the worst decision I’d ever make.
