Chapter 1
It’s a truth universally acknowledged, that the universe conspires to cosmically embarrass a woman in search of good fortune. You can’t run from it, and by god, you cannot escape it. I should know, because today is that day...
“Watch it!” A shocked and enraged woman bellows from a considerable height above me as I sink below my standards. Literally. This morning when I rose from my eight-hour slumber, there was no indication that this would be how I’d spend my Monday morning. Yet, here I was, humbly on my knees, frantically attempting to erase the memory of my Hazelnut Latte from the exorbitantly pricey heel of a stranger.
Great, Liz. Twenty-nine years on this planet and you’re still as clumsy as a four-year-old.
“I am so, so sorry,” I mumble, ignoring how this position must look from anyone else’s point of view, you know if she was a man.
“Save it.” She grunted as her stained shoe became the very object that drives away my nervous hand as it makes one final attempt at whipping it with the Starbucks napkin. The deep timbre in her voice quaked the very marble I was kneeling on, but in reality, it was due to my shaky knees and Shania Twain’s That don’t impress me much ringing obnoxiously loud in my ears.
“Please let me…” I try to interrupt her attempt to walk away, but it was a lost cause. Like a goddess, she pranced away with holier-than-thou energy, disappearing among a throng of people. Leaving me stranded, on my knees in the lobby of the R.J. Reed Building.
What the hell is wrong with me?
Well, I could blame it on the lack of sleep, but my slumbers have been nothing but peaceful. Shaking it off seems to be my only option. My future depends on it. Letting out a deep, but necessary sigh, I grab onto the edge of a large potted plant to push myself onto my feet. Instantly regretting my choice of four-inch red heels, which were meant to complement my cream-colored knee-length skirt and a subtly elegant white blouse. So, with my head held high, I strut towards the elevator. Not wanting to waste another minute pondering over the rudeness of others. Scratch that. The elevator seemed much worse. Men. So many men in one space and they’re all looking at me. Great. Is it too late to climb 46 floors? Giving them a few tight smiles, I squeeze past their tall, lean, and beefy figures to the back of the testosterone-filled death trap. It took everything in me not to gag at the stench of aftershave in the confined space. Thank goodness I was a swimmer in high school, because this is going to be one hell of a long ride...
Oh boy, was I right.
After what felt like an eternity, the elevator dings, signaling the 46th floor. Stepping into the modern lobby, I see the receptionist typing away on her cell phone. Loudly chewing on gum. As soon as I step into her line of sight, the cellular device drops with a loud thud on her glass desk. She smiles up at me with bright purple eyes. Contacts. It must be. No human alive would have such colored eyes, but she seems to pull it off beautifully.
“Good morning, you must be Ms. Bennett?” The teal-haired woman came from behind the desk, knocking off a bunch of sticky notes that were taped along the edges.
“Shit.” She cursed herself as she hurriedly picks up a few off the floor. I, however, could not help the soft giggle that escaped my red lips. What a breath of fresh air this young woman radiates.
“I am,” I answered her question, bending down to pick up a lone note that blew close to my feet. I reach out to hand her the note, but instead of taking it, she envelopes my hand in hers.
“I’m Rachel.” She confidently shakes my hand with both of hers. Ignoring the bright yellow piece of paper that is now crumbled in my palm.
“Lizzy.”
“I was instructed to take you to Ms. Reed’s office upon your arrival. Follow me, please.”
“But…” I tried to interrupt, but her trot was adamant. I had no other choice than to tag along, but not before throwing the crumbled note onto her desk. It might be important.
“It is through those glass doors, down the hall. Her assistant, Mrs. Birtha, will meet you there.” she gestured towards the doors on her left. I could only respond with a small nod and smile, impressed by her efficiency, before she briskly walked back to the oval desk, resuming her previous task. There was something quite endearing about her that I found myself liking.
“Okay.” I try to encourage myself, shaking off the treacherous nerves as I take a peek at the doors at the end of the hall. I looked back at Rachel, the friendly receptionist, and to my surprise, she was staring right back at me. Encouraging me with two pointy thumbs and a bright smile. You got this, babe. One heel at a time, I march towards the doors where the CEO and lead designer of one of the world’s foremost fashion houses, presides. The woman, the myth, and most definitely, the legend. A person I encountered fleetingly in a dim-lit club on a balmy summer’s evening in Milan. No, not going there. It’s been a decade and I hardly think she would remember me...
On the other side of the door, I was met by a friendly grey-haired middle-aged woman, warmly smiling up at me from her desk.
“Good morning, dear. Elizabeth, I presume?” She greeted me, her tone warm but lacking the effort to rise from her seat. Well, that was before I saw the silver and black wheels peeking out through the glass surface. She expertly moved from behind the desk, rolling up to me, extending her hand in the process and I took it without question.
“Yes, you must be Mrs. Birtha?”
“Call me Birdy, please. I feel ancient when someone calls me that.” She jokes and I could not help but give her a big and bright smile.
“Then call me Lizzy, please.”
“Why don’t you take a seat, sweetie? She is just finishing up a call.” Birdy instructs as she expertly rolls back behind her desk. Resting both her hands on the glass as she observes my nervous state.
“Thank you…” I plant my butt onto the leather seat across from Birdy. She was watching me carefully with her narrowed green eyes as I flattened out that one annoying crinkle on my skirt.
“How old are you, Lizzy? If you don’t mind me asking.”
“I… I’m twenty-nine?” I answer, unsure of why she was asking.
“I see...” Birdy, seemingly lost in thought for a moment, curiously taped her pen on the glass a few times. That was until a soft buzz interrupted her inspection of me. Speaking softly into the landline, Birdy motions for me to get up before placing the phone back onto its charging port. This is it. A start to a new life. The very thing I have been craving for almost a decade now.
“She’ll see you now. You can go right in and good luck, Lizzy. I like you already.” Birdy encouraged me in a motherly voice, winking as I make my way towards a brighter future. But before I could turn the knob, I take one last look at Birdy. This seems to have become a habit of mine. Looking back for comfort. First with Rachel and now with her.
“What’s she like?” I dare to ask Birdy and she hardly seemed surprised.
“Every person knows her differently, dear. ” She replies without a break for thought. But her reply just left me with more questions than answers. I guess I’ll have to stick around and find out for myself.
After what felt like hours of self-encouragement, I finally turned the knob to the left. The door opened without so much as a squeak. The corner office was filled with the most amazing amount of natural light streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows, but as I gaze towards her desk, I came up empty. The leather chair held no evidence of the CEO. But to my surprise and probably dry eyes, I saw a slender figure leaning against the window as I close the door. Looking out onto the grand metropolis that is New York City. A figure that looked all too familiar. Without the massive pair of sunglasses obstructing her face, I wanted to kick myself for not recognizing her earlier.
Lizzy, you dumb idiot.
“Oh, shit.” I gasped, clearly not using my inside voice. Startling her momentarily, she met my gaze with venomous ferocity.
“Ms. Bennett, we meet again,” she says, her voice tinged with an air of familiarity. Smooth, unlike the deep timbre she had downstairs. However, to my surprise, she does something completely out of character – she breaks into a mischievous smirk. But as quickly as it started, it disappeared. Quickly replaced by a serious frown. There she is.
“Sit down, Ms. Bennett.” She instructs. Her tone, however, was a recipe for disaster. Leaving me with no choice but to obediently take a seat across from her cluttered workspace. The sight before me was unexpected—a jumble of papers and pencils strewn about, creating a space far messier than I had envisioned for a high-powered CEO.
“I am truly sorry about what happened earlier,” I nervously babbled, my words stumbling out without a clear direction. As she continued to observe, I felt a growing pressure of her gaze. Readying myself for a lash of anger, I braced for impact. However, to my surprise, it never came. The anticipated storm of fury was replaced by an unexpected calmness in her demeanor. She gracefully struts towards her desk, unbuttoning her suit jacket before taking a seat.
“Accidents happen. Now let’s forget about it,” she mumbled, brushing it off a little too easily for my liking. Her nonchalant dismissal left me slightly unsettled as if she was purposefully avoiding addressing the gravity of the embarrassing situation.
“Tell me about yourself, Ms. Bennett.” She asks, casually leaning back, arms folded in her what must be a two-thousand dollar leather chair.
“It is Elizabeth or Lizzy and with no disrespect, I thought we’d already handled these types of questions during my interview. I’m already hired not applying, ma’am.” I bite back but with immediate regret. This is how you lose your job, folks!
“Elizabeth Bennett, really?” she asked, seemingly unfazed by my outburst. Another small smile stretched across her lips, but this time, it held a hint of intrigue. People commenting on the nature of my name was nothing new, but there was something different about her curiosity. It wasn’t just the question itself; it was the person asking it that piqued my annoyance.
“I don’t see the joke, Ms. Reed. My mom is a classical literature professor.”
“Let me guess, you have a sister named Jane?”
“I do, and a brother named Austen,” I continued to bite back, my irritation growing with each passing moment. She must have sensed my escalating frustration, for her gaze, shifted downwards to my hands, tightly gripping the chair.
“Right, let’s move on then,” she leaned forward, her presence commanding nothing but attention. As she did, her toned shoulders and arms stretched at the fabric of the blazer, highlighting her professional exterior.
Sexy.
“Do you know what happened with my previous CFO, Elizabeth?” She asks before my thoughts could spiral any further than they already did. The seriousness of the question, however, felt like a bucket of cold water being poured over my head, snapping me out of my irritation and pulling me back to reality. It was a jolting reminder of the gravity of the situation and the need to focus before I can put my foot even further into my mouth.
“I read about it online,” I answered truthfully, deciding to keep any inquiries I had about the scandal to myself. It seemed best not to delve further into a topic that could potentially complicate the already tense atmosphere and apparently, my behavior.
“My company nearly lost its reputation. The very reputation I continued to build after my grandfather passed,” she spoke with a mix of frustration and bitterness.
“All because of one man’s desire to deepen his pockets. A man who has been with this House for fifty fucking years!” Her voice grew hard and harsh as if she were reliving the moment repeatedly. But what caught my attention the most wasn’t the intensity in her voice—it was the accusation set in her eyes, directed straight at me.
“What are you getting at, Ms. Reed?” I leaned forward, meeting her gaze head-on. I fought to maintain a sense of composure, refusing to let fear or any other emotions replace the anger that surged within me. After all, I had done nothing to deserve her hostility. Well, except the remembrance of my coffee of her heel…
“No, I am only warning you, Ms. Bennett. You may be smart, but I will be keeping a close eye on you. There will be no repeats.”
“And I can assure you, Ms. Reed, that I only have the House’s best interests in mind,” I reply, but I have had enough. I have actual work to do and that does not include getting lectured by my new and very infuriating boss. Gathering my purse, along with my bag that contains a few personal items that I want to put up in my office, I wait for her to do the same. Standing barefoot at 5′9", plus the added height of my four-inch heels, I was almost eye level with her imposing six-foot-plus frame. She seemed surprised. Not as unfazed as earlier. Yet, here I was, choosing to leave instead of engaging. How grownup of me. But the flicker of vulnerability in her eyes betrayed me for a brief moment as my gaze unconsciously dropped to her mouth, evoking an old memory from a different time. It was a memory that left me wondering, but now was not the time nor the place to dwell on it. With determination fuelling my every step, I turned to leave, striding confidently towards the door. Amazingly, my knees remained steady, unaffected by the weight of the tension brewing between us. However, before I departed, there was one more thing I needed to say, a final statement that couldn’t be left unsaid.
“And for future reference, Ms. Reed? Don’t ever talk to me like that again. You need me, just as much as I need you.” I say proudly with my head held high. Not waiting for her reply, I smoothly turned the knob. Finding a curious Birdy parked right where I left her a few minutes ago.
“I don’t doubt it for a second!” I thought I heard her say as I managed to close the door without looking back. This meeting has left me with more questions than answers, but one thing I know for sure is this: my boss is an asshole…
