The latte didn’t survive.

The blouse didn’t either.

Scalding liquid soaked through the silk and splattered her jacket and skirt. Mia gasped as the cold wind hit the wet fabric.

“Are you kidding me?” she whispered, blinking hard as tears burned behind her eyelids. First day. First meeting. First chance to finally prove herself after years of being underestimated in the freelance world.

She dabbed uselessly at the spreading stain.

“Here,” a calm voice said.

A pristine white handkerchief appeared in her peripheral vision. When Mia looked up, she forgot to breathe.

The stranger offering it had the kind of face that belonged on a luxury watch billboard—sharp jawline, dark hair a little messy from the wind, eyes a startling shade of steel blue.

“Soda water,” he said. “Bit of salt. It’ll lift the stain.”

Mia hesitated.

“You look like you’re on your way to an important meeting,” he added, lips curving into a smile that carved a dimple into his left cheek.

“I am,” she sighed, taking the handkerchief. “First day at a new job. And I’m already late.”

“What do you do?”

“Creative director at Everest Media.”

The stranger’s eyebrows lifted, just slightly. “Ah. Big day.”

“You have no idea,” she muttered, staring down at the ruined blouse.

“Come on,” he said suddenly, nodding toward a department store across the street. “Ten minutes. I’ll fix this.”

“I can’t—”

“You can,” he said firmly. “Let me help.”

And for reasons she couldn’t explain—even to herself—she followed him.

The Stranger in the Silk Blouse Aisle

He moved through the store as confidently as if he owned the place, heading straight to women’s businesswear.

“This one,” he said, pulling a silk blouse in a shade nearly identical to hers. He didn’t check the price tag.

“You didn’t even look at the size.”

“I’m observing,” he said with a half-smile. “Trust me.”

She wanted to roll her eyes, but when she tried it on, it fit perfectly.

When she stepped out of the fitting room, he exhaled with an appreciative nod.

“Perfect.”

A strange, warm flutter swept through her chest.

“You haven’t even told me your name,” Mia said.

He smirked. “Names complicate things.”

Before she could reply, her phone buzzed: You’re expected at 9 sharp.
It was 8:57.

“I have to go,” she gasped. “Thank you—for everything.”

“No need to thank me,” he said, walking her back to the door. “Just knock them dead today.”

Something wild and reckless surged inside her. Maybe it was the city. Maybe the adrenaline. Maybe the stranger who had appeared out of nowhere and treated her like she mattered.

And so, without thinking, she whispered:

“Kiss me like you mean it.”

He froze.

Mia winced. “I don’t know why I said that. I swear I’m not—”

He stepped closer, eyes searching her face. “Tell you what.” He leaned in, voice low. “If you still want that kiss after your first day… find me at the Meridian rooftop bar. Seven o’clock.”

Then he disappeared into the crowd.

The Meeting of Doom

Fifteen minutes later, Mia stood in Everest Media’s marble lobby.

The receptionist smiled. “Ms. Bennett? The executive team is waiting.”

Her stomach lurched.

The conference room held six executives, each impeccably dressed. One seat—at the head of the table—remained empty.

Vivien Montgomery, VP of Operations, greeted her politely.
“Richard Hayes, our CEO, will join momentarily.”

Mia’s heart thudded.

The tyrant boss. Brilliant. Demanding. Impossible to please.

She squared her shoulders and began her introduction.

She was halfway through answering questions when the door opened.

Everyone rose.

Mia turned—and the world tilted.

There, in a perfectly tailored charcoal suit, hair smoothed, blue eyes sharper now but instantly familiar…

Was the stranger from the crosswalk.

His lips twitched as recognition flickered across his face.

“Good morning,” he said smoothly. “I see you’ve met our new creative director.”

Mia’s throat went dry.

Vivien gestured. “Ms. Bennett was about to present her portfolio to you, Richard.”

Richard.
Richard Hayes.
Her billionaire CEO.

He slid into the chair at the head of the table, fingers steepled, expression calm.

Inside, Mia was dying.

“I’m very interested,” he said, eyes glinting, “to see what Ms. Bennett brings to the table.”

The next three hours were excruciating. Mia presented flawlessly, but every time she dared glance at Richard, she caught the hint of a smirk—just enough to make her cheeks burn.

When the meeting ended, he said coolly,
“Ms. Bennett, a moment?”

The others left.

Mia tried to speak quickly. “About this morning—”

“Richard,” he corrected. “And we don’t discuss personal matters in the office.”

Professional mask in place, he walked out.

Leaving Mia torn between humiliation… and something more confusing.

New Job, New Friends, and New Problems

Mia’s new office was beautiful, with a skyline view that should have filled her with pride.

Instead, she collapsed into her chair.

A knock sounded.

“Welcome wagon!” chirped a woman with curly auburn hair. “I’m Grace, your neighbor. Coffee?”

Mia accepted gratefully.

“So,” Grace asked, eyes sparkling, “what was it like meeting the Richard Hayes?”

Mia choked on her sip. “Intense.”

“Oh, honey. The man radiates intimidation. Like a billionaire Batman.”

Mia laughed for the first time that day.

As the afternoon unfolded in a whirlwind of introductions and briefings, Richard stayed politely distant. Almost too distant.

By 5 p.m., Mia was exhausted—and then Vivien appeared with a folder.

“Richard wants your input on the Preston Hotel pitch. Tomorrow morning.”

Mia blinked. “Tomorrow?”

“And—” Vivien lowered her voice, handing her a note. “He asked me to give you this as well.”

A single line, handwritten in decisive strokes:

The offer still stands.
7:00 PM — R.

Her heart skipped.

The Rooftop

Mia told herself not to go.

She went anyway.

At 6:55, she stepped onto the Meridian rooftop. Candles flickered across white tables. The skyline shimmered.

Richard stood alone at the railing.

He turned when she approached.

“You came.”

“I make questionable decisions,” she said lightly. “Consistently, it seems.”

He chuckled. “Champagne?”

“You know this is a terrible idea,” she murmured.

“Probably.” He offered her a glass. “But some terrible ideas are worth exploring.”

“Like kissing your new employee?”

“No,” he said softly, eyes locked on hers. “Kissing the woman who asked me to.”

Her breath hitched.

“Richard… you’re my boss.”

“Only at work.”

“Still a problem.”

He leaned closer, voice dropping.
“What if—for tonight—we stop worrying about problems?”

His hand brushed hers. Heat shot up her arm.

She whispered, “This is a mistake.”

“Then let’s make it beautifully.”

He tilted toward her—

Her phone buzzed.
His phone rang.
The spell shattered.

“I’m sorry,” he said, stepping back. “London office crisis.”

The moment evaporated.

“Maybe it’s for the best,” Mia said quickly. “Office romances are messy.”

His jaw tightened. “Complicated doesn’t always mean wrong.”

“Maybe not. But I need my career to stand on its own.”

He didn’t argue.

He simply nodded, looking almost disappointed.

“Goodnight, Mia.”

Work. Rumors. Tension.

The next days were a blur.

Mia worked tirelessly on the Preston pitch. Richard was present in every meeting—but strictly professional.

Maybe too professional.

Grace whispered, “What happened between you two?”

“Nothing,” Mia lied.

By Wednesday evening, they were ready. And then Vivien arrived.

“Preston wants a second presentation. Tomorrow morning.”

Grace frowned. “That’s… suspicious.”

Mia felt the same unease.

That night, long after everyone left, Mia stayed to review documents.

At 11:42 p.m., her phone buzzed with a message from an unknown number:

Check the original Preston proposal.
File room, cabinet 8, drawer 3.
A friend.

Curiosity—and dread—twined inside her.

She found the file.

Inside:
A proposal nearly identical to hers.
Including her cherished sustainability concept.

And a handwritten note:

Find fresh face to present.
JH responds to new perspectives.

Her heart sank.

Had Richard hired her… used her… simply as a strategic pawn?

A cold anger settled over her.

If he thought she was naïve, he was about to learn otherwise.

Truth, Lies, and the Pitch

Richard called at dawn.

“Mia, I—”

“I found the file,” she said. “We’ll talk later. I have a presentation.”

He arrived before the Harringtons, looking genuinely distressed.

“Mia, please. It wasn’t what you think.”

“Then it’s very badly written,” she said coolly.

He winced.

Before he could explain, the clients entered.

The pitch began.

Mia made a choice.

She told the truth.

“Before we begin, Mr. Harrington,” she said calmly, “I discovered Everest presented an earlier proposal to you. My team has rebuilt the strategy from the ground up, addressing every flaw of the original.”

A risk. A gamble.

Richard froze.

Amanda smirked.

James Harrington leaned forward. “Go on.”

For forty minutes, Mia delivered the strongest presentation of her life.

When she finished, James nodded slowly.
“Impressive, Ms. Bennett.”

He asked to speak with her alone.

He questioned her integrity. Tested her. Probed her intentions.

Her answers were steady.

Finally, he extended his hand.
“We’d like Everest Media to move forward—with you as our lead.”

Victory flooded her veins.

When Richard found her later, his expression held more pride than she expected.

But she wasn’t ready to talk.

The Confrontation

In her office, Richard stood waiting.

“Mia—”

“Did you use me?”

“No.” His answer was immediate. Fierce.

“Explain the note.”

Richard ran a hand through his hair. “That was written after Amanda ended our engagement. Her father cut ties. I realized we needed a different perspective. Someone with creativity, someone bold.”

“So you hired me?”

“I hired you because you were the best candidate. Preston wasn’t even active when I approved your offer.”

“And the rooftop? The flirting?”

“That,” he said quietly, “was entirely unprofessional. But not calculated. I promise you that.”

She searched his face.

He looked tired. Honest. Vulnerable.

“I set boundaries,” she whispered. “And you respected them.”

“I had to.” His voice was raw. “Because I want you to succeed here. With or without me.”

She inhaled slowly. “We can only be colleagues.”

“I know.”

He left.

And Mia felt the strangest ache in her chest.

Months Later

Three months passed.

The Preston campaign became a massive success. Everest Media thrived under Mia’s direction. Her reputation spread across the industry. Her team adored her.

Richard kept his distance.

Respectfully. Quietly. Always supportive, never intrusive.

Until one evening, he knocked on her office door.

He wore jeans—a rare sight—and a soft button-down shirt.

“Mia,” he said. “Congratulations. The quarterly numbers are exceptional.”

“Thank you.”

He took a breath. “I’m stepping back. Vivien will take over as CEO.”

“What? Why?”

“I’m launching a literacy foundation. And,” he hesitated, “because I don’t want to be a complication in your career.”

Her heart tugged unexpectedly.

“Richard…”

“You deserved to hear it from me first.”

He turned to go.

“Wait.”

He paused.

“Remember the crosswalk?” she asked softly. “When I said something impulsive?”

His lips curved. “Unforgettable.”

She walked toward him slowly.

“I’d like to be impulsive again.”
She lifted her chin.
“Have dinner with me.”

Surprise—and hope—lit his eyes.

“Mia… are you sure?”

She nodded. “No boss. No employee. Just two people who finally learned how not to stand in our own way.”

He took her hand gently.

“And the kiss you asked for,” he murmured, “does that still stand?”

She smiled.
“Maybe we should find out.”

This time, when he kissed her, it wasn’t impulsive or accidental.
It was intentional. Certain. Warm. The kind of kiss that felt like the beginning of something real.

“Worth the wait?” she whispered.

“Completely,” he breathed.

Six Months Later

At the opening ceremony of Richard’s literacy foundation, Mia stood beside him as cameras flashed.

He squeezed her hand.

“Penny for your thoughts?” he asked.

She leaned into him.
“I’m thinking about mistakes,” she said, smiling. “And how sometimes… they’re really just unexpected beginnings.”

Richard’s dimple appeared, the same one she’d noticed the first day.

He whispered, “I have a question for you.”

Mia looked up.

And whatever he asked next—

She already knew her answer.