Chapter 5

• CHRIS
• My phone rang at 7:43 AM and I already knew, with the certainty of a man who has lived thirty-two years in this family, that it was going to ruin something.
• "I can't talk," I said, with my jacket half on, and my briefcase in hand. "I have a PA interview.."
• "Dinner tonight." My brother's voice. Flat. Already bored of me.
• "What?"
• "I know you haven't forgotten about the family dinner tonight at Dad's, seven sharp."
• I stopped dead in my hallway. "Shit. Is that today?"
• "You forgot." Not a question. He sounded delighted.
• "I did not forget, I..." I had completely forgotten. "I've had a lot going on."
• "Don't forget your plus one."
• "My what?"
• "Plus one, Christopher. Dad's been very clear. Both of us should be Married and settled, before he hands over the shares...those were his exact words, and I quote, 'before I die wondering.'"
• "He's fifty-eight."
• "He's dramatic. Bring someone."
• "I'll try," I said, in the tone of a man who would absolutely not be trying.
• "Seven o'clock," he repeated, and hung up before I could argue.
• I stood in my hallway for one more second, already regretting the entire day, and then left for the office because at least that was something I could control.
• ---
• It was not something I could control.
• By 9 AM I had three department heads in my office, two contracts that needed signing before noon, and a board member who kept calling to "circle back" on something he'd already circled back on twice. I was deep in a spreadsheet, half a coffee down, mentally drafting an excuse for tonight's dinner. Maybe a work emergency, very sorry, genuinely unavoidable....when my secretary's voice came through the intercom.
• "Mr. Donovan, the final PA candidate is on her way up. HR shortlisted her ... very strong interview, apparently."
• "Send her in when she arrives," I said, not looking up from the spreadsheet.
• "Of course."
• I went back to work. The mild, manageable chaos of a Tuesday.
• A knock came in almost immediately after the call.
• "Come in," I said without looking up.
• The door opened.
• "WHAT THE FUCK...."
• My head snapped up so fast I nearly knocked over my coffee.
• Standing in my doorway ...with a CV folder clutched to her chest, and her eyes wide, her mouth still open from whatever had just come out of it ....was Tricia.
• Tricia.
• "You again?" I said. My voice came out somewhere between a laugh and a genuine question to the universe.
• She didn't answer.
• She turned around, walked straight back out, and shut the door.
• I sat there with my pen in hand. Staring at my closed office door like it might offer an explanation.
• Then I heard a thud, her back hitting the door from the other side followed by what sounded like a woman trying to remember how breathing worked.
• "What is happening," I heard her say, muffled, to no one. "What is happening right now—"
• I covered my mouth with one hand.
• "Okay." Another thud, it was softer this time, like she was steadying herself against the door. "Okay. Okay, Tricia. You can do this. He's just a man. A regular ....completely regular — billionaire man who you have somehow run into three times in one week..."
• I was smiling so hard my face hurt.
• "...who you called a spoilt brat, and stole marshmallows from, and now he's interviewing you for a job...."
• She paused immediately.. "Oh my god. He's interviewing me for a job!."
• I had to put my pen down. I genuinely had to put it down because my hand was shaking with the effort of staying quiet.
• Another long breath from the other side of the door. Then a small, muttered, "Okay. Okay. Fix your face. Walk in there like a professional. You are fine."
• The door opened slowly.
• Tricia stepped back inside, with her CV folder held in front of her like a shield, her head bowed like she had been defeated, and eyes fixed somewhere on the floor about three feet in front of my desk. She looked like a woman walking into her own execution and trying to maintain dignity about it.
• I leaned back in my chair.
• Laced my fingers together.
• And let the smile spread .... slowly, deliberate and dangerously.
• "Tricia," I said softly, watching her freeze mid-step. "Sit down."
• She didn't move.
• "I believe," I continued, my voice low, almost pleasant, "I told you to watch your back."
• Her eyes lifted, just slightly to meet mine.
• I tilted my head. "Welcome to the forty-second floor."