Chapter 6

“What?!” Nebreska and Sasha both shouted at the same time, totally shocked when I told them I was resigning. A couple of other people in the cafeteria glanced over, curious, but mostly they kept eating.

Years ago, before I came here, Ethan had gone through executive assistants like they were disposable, constantly letting them go because nothing they did was ever good enough. The old Ethan Blake was basically a modern-day devil in a suit. His favorite pastime seemed to be making everyone miserable. Always angry, always demanding. Nobody lasted more than a month. Not until me.

Not to brag, but I was the one who stuck around. He didn’t even have to speak. One look, one small gesture, and I already knew what he wanted. That was how we worked. People assumed I’d end up spending my entire career in that role. Honestly, I thought so too.

“Selina, you’re really doing this?” Nebreska asked, her voice tight. “What if he offers you more money?”

“And you think he hasn’t?” I replied, a little sharper than I intended. “He offered me a raise. He even eased up on my workload. But the nest that once sheltered me now feels too small. It’s time to fly.” Yet I knew I wasn’t flying alone.

The two of them exhaled, sad, their disappointment clear. They had been my first friends in the company, and it hurt them almost as much as it hurt me.

I picked up my tray and returned it to the cafeteria counter. Lunch had barely touched my stomach, and I swallowed the few bites I managed. Afraid I might throw up, I left quickly and headed back to my desk.

I needed to prepare for the first batch of interviews for Ethan’s new executive assistant.

As I glanced at the door to Ethan’s office, he stepped out, moving straight toward the elevator without saying a word. I forced a smile at him, but he didn’t notice. Not today.

He was probably still tense from whatever had happened with Ingrid. Their wedding was next month, and if she went abroad for a modeling job, how were they supposed to plan anything? I understood.

I smoothed my blouse and followed him into the interview room.

The room smelled like polished wood. Overpowering, just like him. I sat beside him with my notepad, pretending to take notes. On the outside I looked composed, but inside I was a mess.

The first applicant walked in, smoothing her skirt nervously.

Ms. Reynolds from HR smiled. “Good morning, Ms. Blackman. Can you tell us why you think you’re fit for the role of executive secretary?”

The woman straightened, clearly rehearsed. “I’m highly organized, very punctual, and—”

“Do you know how to make coffee?” Ethan cut her off.

Coffee? Really?

The applicant blinked, caught off guard. “…Yes, sir?”

“Good. My secretary makes coffee so strong it could wake the dead. Could you match that?”

I froze. Him comparing them to me, to my coffee, which he always complained about but drank anyway.

“I—I think so?” she stammered.

“Think or know?” Ethan leaned forward. “The last person who only thought they knew nearly put me to sleep during a board meeting.”

I ducked my head and scribbled nonsense to hide my face. I was going to laugh otherwise. He wasn’t interviewing them; he was scaring them off.

The second applicant came in, a little too confident, like he already had the job. I almost felt sorry for him.

“My greatest strength,” he announced proudly, “is loyalty. I stick with my boss through thick and thin.”

Ethan tilted his head. “Even if your boss calls at two in the morning because the printer jammed?”

“The… printer?” The man blinked.

“Yes. The printer,” Ethan said. “Loyalty isn’t tested in daylight. It’s tested at two a.m.”

I coughed into my hand, trying not to laugh. Ethan’s eyes flicked toward me. He always knew when I was laughing at him.

By the third applicant, I was bracing myself. Poor Ms. Reynolds did her best to keep the process moving, though I noticed her rubbing her temples every time Ethan spoke.

“Are you adaptable?” she asked brightly.

“Yes,” the applicant nodded.

“Adaptable as in...” Ethan leaned forward. “If I get a call from my fiancée I don’t want to take, could you convincingly lie that I’m in a board meeting like my secretary used to?”

I nearly dropped my pen. Did he just say that out loud?

The applicant looked horrified. “Um… y-yes?”

“Good,” he said, not moving an inch. “And if I asked you to draft an email that subtly manipulates a client into signing a deal they weren’t sure about, could you do it the way my secretary did without hesitation?”

“Uh… I—” The applicant’s voice faltered.

Ethan leaned back, steepling his fingers. “What about scheduling conflicts? Say I have back-to-back meetings and my secretary always rearranged them without me noticing. Could you manage that?”

“I… I think so?” the applicant stammered.

“Hmm,” he said, tapping the desk. “And if I needed someone to calm a furious client on my behalf using exactly the right words so they leave happy and I don’t have to step in, could you do that?”

“Uh… yes?”

“Now, my secretary always knew exactly when I needed a break, when to bring coffee, when to remind me to call my mother, and when to leave me alone so I could focus. Could you read me like that?”

The applicant blinked, clearly overwhelmed. “I… I’ve never done that…”

“Exactly,” Ethan said softly, almost to himself, before looking back up. “And if a team member screwed up, my secretary always managed to fix it without me even noticing. Could you handle that?”

“I… I guess?” the applicant whispered.

Ethan tapped the pen against the desk. “If I needed you to cover a mistake I made so it looks like I was never at fault like my secretary always did, would you do it?”

The applicant’s face turned pale. “I… I don’t know…”

I leaned back slightly, my hand sliding over my stomach under the table. My heart wasn’t racing from nerves. It was the baby reminding me I had more at stake than just this interview.

Watching Ethan push through every applicant, demanding feats only I had ever performed, it became painfully clear that he didn’t want anyone to replace me.

And for the first time that day, I wondered how I was supposed to walk away.