Girl 1: "They hand out assignments, and if you do well, you get to meet him — maybe even get a raise."
Girl 2: "He's the big boss of the fashion industry. So handsome — cold as ice, but who cares?"
Girl 1: "If he ever decided to be a model, no one could compete with him."
Lily sighed as they giggled. The elevator reached the interview floor, and she stepped out behind them, her heart pounding.
She checked in at the receptionist's desk and sat down to wait. One by one, the girls went in and came out defeated. Not easy, she reminded herself, licking her lower lip and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear — her nervous habit.
Six months ago, she would have walked in here full of confidence. Now? Now she was just trying to hold herself together.
"Lily Cross, it's your turn."
She stood, clutching her folder tightly. She'd already handed over her CV and portfolio at reception.
The door opened for her. She drew a deep breath and stepped inside — and froze.
The man behind the desk wasn't just anyone. He was the big boss himself.
"Please, come and sit here, Miss Cross," he said without looking up, his voice sharp and cold as winter air.
She swallowed hard and moved to the chair across from him.
***
Noah's POV
I was done with these so-called interviews. Half of them couldn't sketch a basic silhouette if their life depended on it — yet they dared to sit here and waste my time.
HR was slacking. I'd remind them — Hayes & Co. isn't a walk-in boutique. This is my name. My sweat. My rules. No one gets to drag that down.
I waved my assistant over. "Send in the next one."
A knock. Soft. Hesitant.
"Come in," I called out, bored already. I didn't look up — I could feel her standing there, clutching her folder like a shield.
"Please, sit, Miss Cross."
I flipped open the portfolio we'd received. My eyes paused — sharp lines, fresh ideas, raw talent that could be molded into something brilliant.
This is what Hayes & Co. needed — not stale ideas, but spark.
I looked up — and for a heartbeat, I forgot my frustration.
Large, doe-like green eyes. Rosy cheeks, lips she kept worrying with her teeth. She looked like she wanted to disappear — but also like she was desperate not to.
And those eyes — sad. Heavy. The kind of sad you can't fake.
Why did it matter to me? It shouldn't. I'd built these walls for a reason.
"Miss Cross," I said, my tone softer than I'd planned. "Your work is excellent."
"Thank you, sir," she whispered so quietly I almost missed it.
"Why Hayes & Co.?" I asked — the usual question, but her answer suddenly mattered more than it should have.
"Because Hayes & Co. is one of the best in the industry. I know I'll grow here. Learn here. I want that chance."
Practical. Honest. No fake praise.
I closed her file. "How soon can you join?"
No hesitation. "As soon as possible, sir."
Perfect. I nodded.
"Congratulations, Miss Lily. Welcome to the family."
She looked surprised, then grateful. She bowed her head, thanked me twice.
I handed her file back, our fingers brushing for a heartbeat too long. I ignored the way it lingered in my chest.
"Meet with HR. They'll handle the rest. I look forward to working with you."
"Thank you so much, sir."
She stood, bowed slightly again, then walked out, back stiff, shoulders tense.
And I leaned back in my chair, staring at the space she'd left behind.
Why does it bother me that she didn't smile?
 Why do I care what made her eyes so sad?
 And why do I already know — whoever did that to her is going to regret it?
"I'll find the reason behind your sad eyes, Lily Cross. I will."