Keating Enterprises.

  The building was large, but I doubted that it was any bigger than my college. It was wide, definitely, and looked as though it was made entirely of glass. Two thin rods swayed in the wind above the fragile-like building, probably for lighting storms. Although, compared to any of the other buildings on the same street, Keating Enterprises was the runt of the pack.

 Beneath my feet, small chips of granite clattered around me, dancing under the vibrations of the construction work that was taking place just across the street from me. One of the men caught my eye, waving with a wide grin. 

 Scoffing, I waved back, attempting to match his wide grin. In reality, though, I was nervous as fuck. In my boots, I could feel my feet shaking. My heart was thumping madly in my chest and again, my palms felt sweaty. Secretly, I wished that I had taken more than one pill that morning, but Gryffin's butt seemed like it was glued to the kitchen stool—he didn't move an inch!

 My watch beeped with the notification I had put the night before to warn me when I was due for my appointment. Or, ten minutes prior, at least. 

 I closed my eyes, clutching my bag, and taking a couple of big, deep breaths, repeating a soft mantra in my head that everything would go well. It was only an interview, after all. There were only about fifty reasons I could chalk up as to what could go wrong.

 Maybe I should have just taken Lazareth's offer, I groaned to myself, rushing inside the lobby to catch the closing elevator. Once inside, I bowed my head sheepishly at the disgruntled looking man who held the door open for me, shuffling to the back.

 The mantle above the elevator kept sliding towards the right until it finally reached my floor: Floor 15, the top of the building. The man grunted as I shoved my way past him, not that I meant to in the first place. Before I could apologize to him, the doors squealed shut.

 I looked around for a moment, observing the somewhat plain-looking waiting room. A reception desk stood idly beside the elevator doors with a small waiting area behind it. Next to a couple of chairs was a metal door, probably leading to the CEO's office.

 "May I help you?" A beautiful blonde woman with oceanic eyes questioned politely smiling as I approached her.

"Um, yes," I fixed the strap of my bag on my shoulder. "I'm here for an interview with Mr. Keating?"

"Your name, please?"

"Adrienne Walker."

"Adrienne..." she repeated my name under her breath softly. The mouse beside her clicked a couple of times before she smiled and handed me an ID.

 "I'll go let Mr. Keating that you've arrived for the interview," she said. She led me towards one of the brown seats and made sure I was seated before slipping through the metal door.

 She was nicer than I expected, I thought, swinging my feet. I regarded the room around me, taking in the cluster of brown chairs and the flat-screen T.V hanging above a bookcase and magazine table.

"This is definitely not what I expected of a CEO's office, though," I spoke to myself. "I suppose being underneath Olympian Deals will do that to you, though."

The metal door smoothly slid open and the woman appeared again, still smiling. I got up quickly.

 "Mr. Keating will see you now, Miss. Walker," she said, dropping her head slightly as I passed her through the door into a dusty white hallway.

 "That was quick,"  I commented, musing to myself how the walls resembled that of asylum.

 "Being a small company, Mr. Keating does not have as much on his schedule--at least, not as much as another big company CEO's like Lazareth Noir."

 "I've never seen his company building in real life before," I admitted. "Only in pictures, my friend showed me."

"It is quite big," she agreed. "Mr. Noir seems to enjoy living a big lifestyle."

"Don't all billionaires?" I asked with a huffing chuckle.

She laughed gently. "I suppose so. Mr. Keating himself does not live big, but I've heard his son is quite notorious for liking big and lavish things."

"That sounds like someone I'm familiar with," I mentioned offhandedly, remembering Mike's expensive tastes. Funny how he shared a name with a CEO yet gazed at money in a completely different way.

 "Here we are," the reception desk lady smiled at me. "Mr. Keating should be waiting for you inside. I'll be here to take you back once you're finished."

 "Thank you..." I squinted at her nametag. "Jacqueline."

"Oh, Jackie is fine," she beamed. "Or Jack. I could care less, honestly."

"Jackie suits you just fine," I chuckled, nodding to her before walking through the heavy oak door she held open.

 The office was wide, a dark red carpet hugging the floor. Large windows covered the walls, and a silver-haired man who looked about the same age as my step-dad stood in front of them as if contemplating his life with his hands clasped behind his back.

 "Miss. Walker?" He turned when my shoes tapped the chair in front of his desk. A warm smile, just like Jackie's, lit up his face. "A pleasure to meet you, young lady."

 "You as well, Mr. Keating," I reciprocated warmly, taking his outstretched hand and shaking it.

 Mr. Keating was an elderly man with ripples coating his skin and kind hazel eyes. He resembled a teddy bear—plump and gentle. His chair squeaked when he sat down, his fingers clasped together again.

 "I was hoping you would accept an interview from our humble company," he began, fixing some papers. "When I took a look at your resume, I wasn't sure we should reach out to you. You had such exceptional reviews, why, I'd plump you got a request from Mr. Lazareth Noir himself!"

 I blushed at his flattery. "Well, I wanted to give his interview a try. I've never held an assistant job before."

"What have you done then, before graduating?"

"I worked in a daycare during high school," I said. "My mother helped me get a part-time job there. I also helped out at the office of my school—!"

"What did you do at the office?" He interjected.

 I shrugged. "Mostly organizing paperwork. I was asked to refill the copy machine and organize the extra books a couple of times. That's...about it."

 "Okay." He nodded, taking a few notes on a small notepad. "What else?"

 Despite the loud thrumming of my heart in my ears, I was able to steel myself and answer his questions firmly, hiding my fear. 

 "I worked at the library—well, it was mostly volunteer work, but after, I think in Japan, I got a part-time job at a Japanese cosplay shop."

"Hm...You are bilingual?"

"Yes." I crossed my right leg over my left leg, curling my hands on my lap. "Apart from English, I can speak French, which is my mother's native language, and Japanese from my father's side. I also know a little German—that's where my step-dad is from."

"Good. It's always smart to know more than one language," Mr. Keating muttered to himself, his crinkled eyes folding in thought. "I have one more question for you, Miss. Walker."

 "Yes?"

 "I heard you interviewed Lazareth Noir," he said, leaning closer to me over the desk. 

I cocked my head to the side. "Yes? What about the interview, sir?"

 "Were you intimidated by him?" He asked.

 For the first few seconds, I didn't answer. My mouth was slightly ajar while my brain rushed to find an answer for him. I wasn't sure if I should be honest or not, because truthfully, I was intimidated by Lazareth. It was just the vibe he carried around with himself—like he was a thug instead of a billionaire. 

 "Yes," I replied, my heart sinking ever so slightly. "I was, but that was because I was unprepared. The interview request came on short notice to me, and I was not ready to be faced with his...I suppose you could say, cryptic replies to my questions."

 "I see..." Mr. Keating was silent for a few moments, but then, he dropped his pen with a click, standing up. I stood with him.

 He stared at me for maybe a minute before extending his hand to me, chuckling lowly at the quizzical tilt of my head.

 "I wasn't expecting that answer, quite frankly," he said, a tense smile gracing his lips. "But you surprised me, Miss. Walker. Most of the beginners here tend to lie about being faced with their fears. I'm pleasantly surprised that you have admitted yours. It proves your honesty."

 "Well, I am not afraid of Mr. Noir, per se," I laughed awkwardly, eyeing his outstretched hand. "I was just intimidated by him."

"That alone is difficult to admit," Mr. Keating shrugged. "In the world of billionaires, you can't let anyone know that you're afraid. It's just how our life works." He shook his hand slightly. "But, if everything is good to go, then I have two words for you, Adrienne."

 "What are they?" I asked, tentatively taking his hand. 

He smiled. "You're hired."

~*******~

"Kath!" I screamed on the phone as soon as I got out of the building, holding it tightly for fear the sweat from my hands would make me drop it. I wasn't sure Lazareth would appreciate me breaking his gift. "You'll never believe what happened!"

"What? Noir fucked you?" Kath guessed mildly.

"No!" I wished she were in front of me to see my glare. "What the hell, Kath?"

"It was a guess," she said. "What is it?"

"I got hired at Keating Enterprises!" I screeched, attracting the attention of passerby's on the streets. I could have cared less, though. No more Madame Doniya! No more Oliver and Laurel! No more dusty, smelly books!

"You did?" Now Kath really woke up, like a switch went off inside of her. "Congratulations, Adrienne! I told you all that worrying you did last night was for nothing!"

"I know," I flushed. "I—!"

  I was cut off by a beeping sound coming from my phone. Glancing at the screen, I saw that I had another incoming call from an unknown number.

 "Can we actually talk later, Kath? I got a call coming in," I asked.

 "Sure." She cut the call and I accepted the new one, clearing my voice.

 "Hello?" 

"Good afternoon, Adrienne," Lazareth's creamy, melted voice dripped through the receiver, sending a flurry of shivers down my spine. 

 "Lazareth," I acknowledged, taking a sharp breath. "How are you?"

 "I'm fine, thank you," he replied. "I was wondering if you were busy at the moment?"

 "No, not at all!" I frowned. "Is everything okay?"

 "What? Oh, yes, it's alright," he paused. "I just wanted to meet up with you to talk. I haven't seen you since your graduation."

 "Now?"

 "Yes."

 "Okay," I agreed, despite my heart pleading with me to decline and go home. "Where should I meet you?" 

"Well, I am at the cafe right across from you, so..."

"What?!"

I jerked my head to the blinking cafe sign that I had always ignored, and sure enough, Lazareth Noir sat at the window, sipping what I could only assume to be coffee with a smirk on his lips as he gazed at me.

 Scoffing, I cut the call and trudged to the cafe. Opening the door, a rich aroma of tea, coffee, and different types of pastries slammed into my nose. It made my mouth water.

 "Adrienne," Lazareth flagged me over to his table. "How are you?"

 "I'm doing alright," I said, deciding not to tell him about my new job just yet. "What are you doing here, Lazareth? Don't you have work?"

 He grinned, revealing a row of straight, white teeth. "Yes, but it's my break so I decided to come here for coffee and a snack." He gestured to the menu with a tilt of his head. "Would you like anything?"

 "No, thank you," I smiled. "I already ate."

 "Ah, okay." He gazed at me for a few moments with his charcoal eyes before glancing at the top of my phone that stuck out from my bag. He smirked.

 "Do you like it?" He asked. "I wasn't sure what to get you at first...that was my first time getting someone a present, so..."

 "I do like it, thank you," I blushed. "But you didn't have to get me anything, Lazareth."

 "I know," he said curtly. "I wanted to. It's my money. I can do what I want with it."

 "That's true," I agreed. "I want to pay you back for it, though, if you won't take it."

 "In all honesty, I don't want you to pay me back at all," he began. I opened my mouth to interrupt, but what looked like a malicious smirk curled on his lips. "But I just might take that rain check for another time."

 "Okay, deal," I said, despite my stomach churning at the gleam in his dark eyes. 

 We sat quietly for a couple of moments. He stirred his coffee and I picked at the sugar packets lying by the napkin dispenser. It wasn't really an awkward silence, though. More like a thinking silence. Or an observation silence.

 Lazareth's phone rang suddenly, the tune bland and breaking the soft silence we had wrapped ourselves into. He scowled, glaring at the contact, then looked up at me.

 I nudged my head towards his phone, smiling. "You can take it. I'm not stopping you."

 "With eyes like those, you most certainly are," Lazareth replied like he was waiting for me to say that, leaving me speechless as he accepted the call.

 "What?" He snapped, hardly giving any welcome in his tone. 

 The voice spoke quickly, and the scowl on Lazareth's lips deepened. His eyes hardened and his calloused hands formed a fist.

 "I don't give a fuck about what he's doing," he spat and if the lady on the other end of the line flinched, then I didn't blame her—especially with a tone like that. I was pretty sure I had winced myself.

 "Listen to me, if you value your job," Lazareth continued mercilessly, stirring his coffee while speaking. "You tell him that I don't give a damn about his time limit. He forced my hand, now watch while I force his. I don't care if I have to..." 

 At that moment, a sneeze burst out of me, and whatever Lazareth said was reduced to nothing but mumbled threats in my ears. 

 "Would you like to go for a stroll?" Lazareth asked once his call was over. He dropped a couple of bills onto the table and took my hand gently in his, leading me out the door before I could even answer him. It seemed that I didn't have a choice, then.

 As we were leaving, Mr. Keating's question from the interview popped into my mind—about whether or not I was intimidated by Lazareth. At first, I was, but then that dwindled down to some sort of cursed attraction towards him. Like he was a magnet or some of my favorite custard pie that I couldn't resist. 

 But now, seeing how he spoke to the lady, it was like he had transformed into a completely different person. He wasn't the kind, polite, if not, flirtatious Lazareth Noir. He was business-like, clipped, harsh. He even looked slightly violent. 

 That was new, I thought to myself. Lazareth has never acted like that before. He's always been so calm and collected—where the hell did that come from?

 "I apologize for that," he murmured into my ear, his breath ticklish and warm. "I told them not to disturb me during my time off."

"You're a CEO," I shrugged, aware of his hard hand enveloping mine. Somehow, his calloused fingers stomped on the spike of my heart from his conversation just moments ago. "It happens."

 "Yeah, well it shouldn't," he growled. "Work and home lives should be separate."

 "They should be," I agreed, my mind wandering back to his contract. I was surprised that he didn't bring it up, but that made me realize something.

  If Lazareth wanted his work and his home life to be separate, then what did he want with me?