Chapter 7

Jordan’s pov.

The day I returned to New York, everything felt…. different.

Aurora’s design, my empire named after my mom, stood tall amidst the steel and glass jungle of the city, a monument to years of sacrifice and ambition. But walking back into its walls after months overseas, something shifted.

It wasn’t just the familiar scent of polished wood and designer cologne in the air, or the sight of the busy employees passing through the open spaces. It was the quite realization that I was no longer the same man who’d left months ago.

I was here to now settle the pieces. The expansion into Europe was critical, but it wasn’t the design or the market that kept my thoughts occupied.

“Welcome back, Mr. Carter.”

Hayes, my HR lead, approached with his usual polished order. I nodded, aknowledging his presence as we walked towards my office.

“Things have been running smoothly in your absence,” Hayes began, his voice professional. “Though, I’d love to bring your attention to a few matters.

“Later,” I waved him off, “I’ll review the results myself.”

I passed through the building, scanning familiar faces, catching polite smile and gauging the atmosphere. It was all as I’d left it, predictable, seamless.

And then I saw her.

She was leaning over the reception desk, speaking to one of the assistants. Her voice was soft, and her profile was just as I’d remembered.

Brittney summers.

I stopped mid step. My chest tightened in surprise. For a while , I thought I’d imagined her. The Brittney I’d known in high school had been sweet, if a bit unpolished. Always scribbling away in her notebook, often sneaking glances at me when she thought I wasn’t loooking.

But this Brittney? She was different.

Her hair was pulled back neatly, framing her face that was both softer and more mature. She was dressed smart, but the way she smoothed her skirt, show how nervous she was.

“Sir?” Hayes voice snapped me back to the present.

“Who’s she?” I asked, nodding towards Brittney.

“Ms. summers? she’s your new assistant,” he replied.

My assistant.

“Interesting choice.” I murmured, brushing past the thought and continuing towards my office.

When Brittney came into my office later, I didn’t let my gaze linger. I kept my tone even, professional, as I reviewed her credentials and assigned her tasks. She was efficient, no nonsense, no fluff.

But I saw hesitation in her movement.

It shouldn’t have mattered.

I told myself it didn’t.

Yet every time she looked up, every time her voice wavered as she answered a question, I find myself drawn in. Not because she was perfect, but because she wasn’t.

She was trying.

And I respected that.

Still, I couldn’t resist testing her, like the meeting this morning. Watching her fumble over her words, her cheeks turning in embarrassment.

It wasn’t malicious, at least that’s what I told myself. I just wanted to see how she handled pressure.

But as the words left my mouth—“if you’re not listening, why are you here?” —I immediately regretting them.

The look on her face.

It was fleeting, but it struck me deep.

I told myself, it was nothing, just a minor interaction with an employee.

Yet, hours later, as i reviewed the files in my office, her name was still on my mind.

“Brittney summers,” I muttered under my breath, leaning back in my chair.

I remembered her from high school the quiet girl with big dreams and an even bigger heart. Back then she’d invincible to most people, but not to me.

She’d always been watching me.

Now, here she was. Working for me.

Was it coincidence? Fate?

I asked her to join me for a drink. She said no.

I don’t know why it bothered me so much.

I watched her walk out of my office, her head held high as though it didn’t affected her. Maybe it didn’t, but it affected me.

Leaning back in my chair, I loosened my tie and let out a slow breath. Why had I even asked her for a drink? I was impulsive. I never mixed work with personal matters. Hell, I rarely let anyone close enough to matter outside of work.

And she wasn’t Just anyone.

I ran my hand through my hair. She refused politely, as though she’s already decided I wasn’t worth the trouble. And why would she pick otherwise?

She’s determined to keep whatever boundaries she thinks she’s set between us intact.

And maybe that’s why I can’t stop thinking about her.

Her refusal shouldn’t have bothered me. In fact, I respected it. But it lingered, was it her tone?

Or was it something deeper, something unspoken between us?

I swirled the glass of scotch in my hand, the dim light reflecting on the amber liquid. A sharp knock on the door broke the silience.

“Come in,” I called out.

Hayes stepped in, a Manila folder I. Hand. “Mr. Carter, the investor report you requested.”

I guestured at him to place it on the desk, barely sparing him a glance.

Later that evening, I left the office and headed for the one place I knew would calm the storm within me. Aurora’s old workshop.

Nestled on the outskirts of the city, the space was where me mother and I had first dreamed of the company that would eventually bear her name.

The scent of sawdust and metal lingered in the air, a testament to countless late nights spent perfecting designs.

I ran my fingers over the worn workbench, the edges smooth from years of use. My mother’s old sketches were still pinned to the corkboard.

It reminded me of Brittney’s work.

I could still see her that morning, nervously clutching her bag as she answered my questions. There was something about her that reminded me of the early days of Aurora design.

As I riffled through some of the older designs, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out to find a message from my mother.

‘Dinner tonight, don’t be late.’