Chapter 5: Monday Morning

Charlotte reached her desk and immediately buried herself in work. Emails, schedules, meeting requests, and endless administrative tasks quickly filled her screen. For approximately fourteen minutes, the strategy worked perfectly.

Then Ethan appeared beside her desk.

Again.

"Charlotte."

Reluctantly, she looked up.

"Yes?"

He held out a folder.

"Our meeting schedule."

She accepted it, and their fingers brushed for the briefest second. The contact was meaningless, accidental, and entirely unimportant. Yet her pulse reacted anyway, which only irritated her further.

Ridiculous.

She hated this.

What made it worse was that Ethan appeared just as uncomfortable. His expression remained controlled, but there was a stiffness in his posture that hadn't existed before Friday night.

Good.

At least she wasn't suffering alone.

"Anything else?" she asked.

"No."

A brief silence followed. Then another.

Finally, Ethan turned and walked away.

Charlotte released a slow breath and returned her attention to the computer screen. Unfortunately, she wasn't the only person who had noticed the awkward exchange. Two receptionists immediately exchanged curious looks, while one accountant became so distracted watching them that he nearly walked into a filing cabinet.

Fantastic.

Exactly what she needed.

Rumors.

Meanwhile, Ethan retreated to his office and closed the door harder than necessary before dropping into his chair. The moment he sat down, he regretted it. Being alone meant being left with his thoughts, and lately his thoughts had become increasingly problematic.

Charlotte Bennett.

His assistant.

His employee.

The woman he had worked beside for nearly two years.

How had he never really noticed her before?

No, that wasn't entirely true.

Of course he had noticed her.

Anyone with functioning eyesight would have noticed her. Charlotte was attractive, intelligent, and competent. The difference was that until Friday night, he had never truly looked beyond the role she occupied in his life.

Now he couldn't seem to stop.

For the first time, he'd seen the woman behind the job title. He'd seen her ambition, her intelligence, her sense of humor, and the quiet determination that drove her. He'd watched the way she listened before speaking and the way she challenged him without even realizing she was doing it.

And now there was a problem.

A very large problem.

Ethan opened the drawer containing his grandfather's will and stared at the document as if it personally enjoyed tormenting him.

Twenty-eight days.

That was all he had left.

Rubbing his temples, he tried to imagine how any of this was supposed to work. Every woman he'd dated in the past five years would either laugh in his face or sell the story to the tabloids if he proposed marriage after a single week. The few who accepted would likely view him as a walking bank account.

Charlotte wasn't like that. She was practical, responsible, and smart—the exact type of woman William Calloway would have approved of.

The realization made him groan.

"No."

Absolutely not.

It was a terrible idea.

Possibly the worst idea he had ever had.

She worked for him.

The situation was already complicated enough.

Unfortunately, logic seemed to have abandoned him.

Because no matter how many times he dismissed the thought, it kept returning.

By lunchtime, Ethan found himself standing near the glass wall of his office, watching Charlotte move efficiently between phone calls, meetings, and scheduling conflicts. She handled problems before most people even realized they existed and somehow managed to keep an entire executive floor functioning smoothly.

She looked focused, determined, and completely professional.

And completely unaware that she was rapidly becoming the solution to every problem in his life.

Ethan cursed softly.

This was getting dangerous.

The executive meeting that afternoon did nothing to improve his mood.

Board members filled the conference room, armed with financial reports, quarterly forecasts, expansion proposals, and enough spreadsheets to put most people to sleep. Normally Ethan tolerated these meetings with minimal effort.

Today he could barely concentrate.

His attention remained stubbornly fixed on the woman seated several chairs away.

The discussion eventually shifted toward one of the company's struggling luxury properties in Aspen. Several executives proposed staff reductions to improve profitability, while others argued for delaying renovation projects.

Quietly, Charlotte slid a document toward him.

Ethan glanced down.

Then blinked.

The proposal was brilliant—simple, effective, and capable of solving the problem without eliminating jobs.

Most importantly, it solved the problem without eliminating jobs.

When he looked up, Charlotte's eyes widened slightly. The suggestion had clearly been intended for him alone.

Not the entire board.

"Interesting," Ethan said.

Several executives immediately turned toward him.

He lifted the document.

"What if we reposition the property as an exclusive winter experience instead of competing directly with the larger resorts?"

The room fell silent.

Board members began reading.

Questions followed.

Then discussion.

Then approval.

Less than twenty minutes later, the proposal had unanimous support.

One of the directors nodded approvingly.

"Excellent idea."

Ethan's gaze shifted briefly toward Charlotte.

She immediately looked away.

A small smile appeared on his face.

Interesting indeed.

Because she wasn't just attractive. She was talented, and talent was rare.

***

Later that afternoon, Charlotte found herself trapped in yet another uncomfortable situation. More specifically, she found herself trapped inside an elevator with Ethan Calloway for the second time in three days. At this point, she was beginning to suspect that the universe had developed a twisted sense of humor and was actively looking for ways to make her life more difficult.

Neither of them spoke immediately. The elevator descended steadily through the building while Charlotte focused her attention on the illuminated floor numbers above the doors. Twenty-six. Twenty-five. Twenty-four. The silence stretched between them, awkward but not entirely unbearable, until Ethan finally released a sigh.

"We should probably talk about it."

Charlotte groaned without even looking at him.

"No."

His lips twitched.

"We can't pretend it never happened."

"Watch me."

A genuine laugh escaped him, and the sound immediately irritated her because it reminded her of Friday night. It reminded her of the man she'd enjoyed talking to before discovering he was also her boss.

"It wasn't that bad."

Charlotte turned toward him in disbelief.

"It wasn't that bad?"

"No."

"It was horrifying."

"I've experienced worse."

She folded her arms across her chest.

"How?"

Ethan actually seemed to consider the question.

"Once I accidentally proposed to the wrong woman."

Charlotte stared at him.

"What?"

"It was a publicity event."

She continued staring.

"You proposed to the wrong woman?"

"Technically."

"Oh my God."

The elevator filled with laughter, and for the first time since Friday, some of the tension between them began to dissolve. Not completely, but enough to breathe. Enough to remember why she'd enjoyed spending an entire evening talking to him in the first place.

Unfortunately, the moment the elevator doors opened, reality returned.

And so did the awkwardness.

That evening, Ethan remained in his office long after the rest of the executive floor had emptied. Beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, Manhattan glittered beneath the night sky, its endless stream of lights stretching toward the horizon. The city never seemed to sleep.

Neither, apparently, did his problems.

With a frustrated sigh, he opened his grandfather's will again and reread the document from beginning to end. Every condition. Every requirement. Every threat hidden beneath carefully crafted legal language. When he finished, he glanced at the countdown application on his phone.

28 DAYS REMAINING

The number seemed smaller now.

Dangerously small.

For the first time since the reading of the will, genuine concern settled heavily in his chest. This was no longer just about money. Calloway Grand Hotels employed nearly seventy thousand people across four continents. Thousands of families depended on the company. If the board gained control of the empire, everything would change.

William Calloway had known exactly where to strike.

Slowly, Ethan rose from his chair and walked toward the windows overlooking Manhattan. Normally he loved the view. It reminded him of everything his family had built and everything he was expected to protect.

Tonight it felt different.

Heavier.

More complicated.

Because no matter how hard he tried to focus on the company, the countdown, or the impossible conditions of the inheritance, his thoughts kept returning to the same person.

Charlotte.

He tried pushing the thought away.

It didn't work.

He tried again.

It failed again.

The truth was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore. Charlotte wasn't simply attractive. She was intelligent, responsible, capable, and remarkably grounded. Unlike most of the women he'd dated over the years, she wasn't impressed by his wealth or his reputation. If anything, she often seemed mildly annoyed by both.

For reasons he couldn't entirely explain, that only made her more attractive.

Ethan let out a bitter laugh.

Of course.

The one woman he couldn't pursue.

The one woman who would probably reject him immediately.

The one woman who knew exactly how impulsive, reckless, and irresponsible he could be.

And yet the idea refused to disappear.

By the time he finally left the office, a dangerous possibility had already begun taking shape in his mind. It was reckless enough to make even him hesitate, but the more he considered it, the more logical it seemed.

Because if he was going to survive the next twenty-eight days, he might need more than a wife.

He might need someone he could trust.

And Charlotte Bennett was rapidly becoming the only woman who fit that description.

The realization followed him all the way home, lingering in his thoughts long after he stepped into his penthouse. For the first time since his grandfather's death, Ethan found himself wondering not whether Charlotte would say yes...

The problem was no longer finding a wife.

The problem was that he only wanted one. But how he was supposed to convince her.