“Move it! Seriously, old man, get out of the way!” The voice, imbued with a sharp sense of entitlement, cut through the tense quiet of the overfilled elevator inside the prestigious Thompson Tower, a landmark in the heart of downtown Chicago. “How dare you speak to an elder that way?” a composed, clear voice retorted, catching everyone off guard. “This elevator was already at its limit, and the alarm sounded the second you stepped inside. If anyone needs to get off, it’s you.”
The woman who had spoken, a blonde with sharp features dressed in an impeccably tailored, expensive suit, spun around.
- “Who do you think you are to tell me what to do? Do you have any idea who I am? Or my relationship with Michael Thompson, the Chairman of the board?”
Her eyes, narrowed into thin slits, raked over the newcomer with undisguised contempt.
- “I don’t care who you are. Apologize to this gentleman immediately.”
A young woman, Chloe Miller, blinked in disbelief. Is this woman completely clueless? To openly challenge Jessica Reed, the undisputed star Senior Manager at Thompson Enterprises? Chloe was well aware of Jessica’s formidable reputation. Today was a major interview day, and Chloe, along with countless other hopefuls, was vying for a position.
“She’s a candidate for a job,” a nervous whisper reached Chloe’s ears. “She’s definitely going to blow her interview after crossing Jessica.”
Chloe gave a subtle shake of her head. Not my problem, she resolved, redirecting her focus to the older man, who still appeared rattled by the confrontation.
- “Sir, are you alright?” she asked, her voice softening as her eyes filled with genuine concern.
He managed a faint smile.
- “I’m quite alright, thank you, young lady. I’m glad to see you’re okay as well.” He paused, his gaze warm and appreciative. “May I ask your name?”
- “Chloe Miller.”
- “Do you work here, at Thompson Enterprises?” he asked, his eyes still fixed on her.
- “No, sir. I’m actually here for an interview,” Chloe replied, offering a smile that was a mix of hope and anxiety.
His face lit up with a broad grin.
- “Well, I have a good feeling about you, Chloe. I’m certain you’ll get the job.”
His simple words of encouragement sent a surprising wave of warmth through her.
- “I appreciate that, sir,” she said, just as a soft chime announced the elevator’s arrival at their floor. The doors slid open, and the crowd spilled out, leaving Chloe and a few others to make their way toward the Human Resources department.
- “Wow, I wonder if we’ll actually see Mr. Thompson today,” someone next to her murmured.
- “Why would he bother with interviews for entry-level positions?” another person scoffed. “You’d be lucky to even catch a glimpse of Chairman Thompson unless you’re being called up to the executive suite.”
- “Chloe Miller?” a crisp, professional voice called from the reception desk.
- “That’s me,” Chloe said, stepping forward.
- “Please, come in for your interview.”
Miles away, in a sleek, glass-encased penthouse office with a commanding view of Central Park in New York City, Michael Thompson, the CEO of Thompson Enterprises, was engrossed in a phone call.
- “Mr. Davis, our driver wasn’t at JFK to meet Grandpa. Have you checked his old brownstone in Brooklyn Heights? Nothing there either.”
He raked a hand through his hair, his voice tinged with frustration.
- “You mischievous old man, Grandpa. Aren’t you supposed to be recovering? What possessed you to fly back to the States without a word to anyone?”
A gruff voice erupted from the other end of the line.
- “You have the audacity to question me? It has been a full year, Michael! An entire year since you swore you would introduce me to my granddaughter-in-law. Where is she? Did you even bother to get married?”
Michael let out a weary sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose.
- “Grandpa, I showed you the marriage certificate.”
- “You showed me the cover, you rascal! Do you take me for a fool? I don’t give a damn about covers. I want to meet her. If I don’t see her in person, I swear, I’ll… I’ll end it all right here!”
The old man’s flair for the dramatic was legendary.
- “Fine, fine!” Michael conceded, knowing it was pointless to argue. “If you promise to focus on your recovery, I’ll take you to meet her. You have one month, understood? That’s the deal.”
He could hear his grandfather grumble, but a reluctant agreement followed. Then, an unexpected directive came.
- “Oh, one more thing. A young woman named Chloe Miller had an interview at your company today. Hire her.”
Michael arched an eyebrow.
- “Grandpa, you know our company hires based on qualifications and merit.”
- “She made it to the interview stage, didn’t she? That alone proves she’s capable. That Chloe Miller… she’s kind-hearted and lovely. I like her. A great deal.”
His grandfather’s tone was final, leaving no room for negotiation. Michael suppressed another sigh.
- “Alright, alright. I’ll hire her. Are you satisfied now?”
- “Let’s go, Grandpa. I’ll drive you home,” Michael offered, attempting to change the topic.
- “No need for that,” his grandfather retorted dismissively. “I can manage on my own. Chloe Miller, you say…” he mumbled, the name seeming to bring a smile to his face.
Back in Chicago, Chloe stepped into the interview room, a surge of nervous energy coursing through her.
- “Good morning to the panel,” she said politely, handing over her resume.
Jessica Reed, positioned at the head of the long table, sneered as her gaze fell upon Chloe.
- “Well, well. What an unpleasant coincidence.”
Chloe’s heart plummeted. She knew that look. I’m finished.
- “Get out,” Jessica commanded, waving a hand in a gesture of curt dismissal.
- “You haven’t even glanced at my resume,” Chloe countered, a spark of defiance flashing in her eyes.
- “I don’t need to. Someone of your caliber doesn’t belong in this company. Take your resume and leave.” Jessica’s voice was laced with venom.
At that moment, the door swung open and Michael Thompson himself strode into the room. He exuded an aura of formidable authority, his presence instantly capturing the attention of everyone present. Oh my god, it’s Mr. Thompson. He’s even more handsome in person, one of the panelists whispered, clearly mesmerized.
Chloe, however, was still seething.
- “You’re doing this purely for revenge because I stood up to you in the elevator, aren’t you?” she accused, staring directly at Jessica.
Jessica’s lips curled into a smirk.
- “And what if I am? You were the one disrespecting an elder earlier. Your behavior was unacceptable.”
- “And if I had the choice,” Chloe retorted, her voice unwavering, “I would do it again. With interviewers like you in charge, I’m withdrawing from this process.”
She threw her resume down on the table. Jessica merely shrugged.
- “As you wish. Who needs this resume anyway?”
Michael, who had been silently observing the entire confrontation with a severe expression, finally intervened. His sharp, intelligent eyes met Chloe’s.
- “Why do you look so… familiar?” he wondered aloud. “Who is Chloe Miller?”
- “That would be me,” Chloe replied, a note of surprise in her voice.
- “You majored in design?” Michael asked, his eyes briefly flicking to the resume on the table. “Is our design department in need of more staff?”
A manager from the design department, looking anxious, quickly spoke up.
- “Mr. Thompson, our department is currently at full capacity.”
- “You can start in the secretarial pool as an intern,” Michael announced decisively, before turning to his assistant. “Alex Davis, please handle her onboarding process.”
- “Yes, sir,” Alex said, a flicker of confusion crossing his face as he led Chloe out of the room.
As they departed, Jessica shot a venomous glare at Chloe’s retreating back.
- “This woman is already making a move on Mr. Thompson. You will regret this,” she seethed under her breath.
Later that day, in the dynamic, open-plan office, Chloe was attempting to get her bearings when a loud voice shattered the professional hum.
- “So, you’re the new office stunner, I see?”
A man, Ryan Peterson, the Head of Marketing for Thompson Enterprises, swaggered toward her, his gaze lingering on her in a way that made her uncomfortable. He reached out as if to touch her arm.
- “What do you think you’re doing?” Chloe demanded, recoiling and slapping his hand away.
Ryan appeared genuinely shocked.
- “You dare to strike me?!”
- “You were harassing me,” Chloe stated, her jaw set firmly. “A slap was a merciful response.”
- “Weren’t you just throwing yourself at Mr. Thompson?” Ryan sneered, rubbing his hand. “What’s the harm in a little touch from me? Don’t play the innocent little angel.”
- “Mr. Thompson! I demand you witness this!” Jessica suddenly materialized, her voice resonating across the office. Michael Thompson stepped out of his office, his brow creased in a frown.
- “Don’t you dare move,” Chloe warned Ryan, refusing to let him retreat.
- “Let go of me!” Ryan protested, struggling against her grip.
- “What is going on here?” Michael demanded, his sharp gaze taking in the entire scene.
- “He harassed me!” Chloe declared, her voice quivering with indignation. “He touched me without my consent!”
Ryan immediately turned to Michael, his expression shifting to one of feigned distress.
- “Mr. Thompson, that’s not true! She’s… she’s trying to use me to get ahead! She was the one who made advances on me!” He put on a highly convincing performance. “Who allowed this manipulative woman into our company? She should be fired on the spot!”
- “Mr. Thompson,” Chloe interjected, her voice steady despite her anger. “You were the one who hired her.”
Michael paused, a flicker of an unreadable emotion in his eyes. Ryan, believing he had the upper hand, began to gloat.
- “What the–”
- “Mr. Thompson, I am so sorry!” Ryan rushed forward, looking utterly mortified as he realized his mistake. “I misspoke. I sincerely apologize, but you have to believe me! She was the one who was hitting on me!”
- “He’s lying!” Chloe insisted.
- “Mr. Thompson,” Ryan pleaded, composing himself. “After all my years of dedicated service to this company, I have always been a diligent employee. You must trust my word.”
Michael’s voice was cold and resolute.
- “Get out. Do you hear me? Get out.”
- “It was clearly him harassing me! Why are you firing me instead?!” Chloe exclaimed, completely baffled.
Michael sighed, massaging his temples.
- “I was referring to him. Not you.”
Ryan looked utterly aghast.
- “Idiot!” he blurted out, finally grasping his catastrophic error. “Mr. Thompson, I know I made a mistake! I have an 80-year-old mother to support and a child on the way! If you fire me, they’ll have nothing! Mr. Thompson, I’m begging you, please give me one more chance!”
Michael raised three fingers.
- “Three.”
Ryan’s face contorted in despair.
- “Mr. Thompson!”
Michael held up two fingers.
- “Two.”
Ryan, in his desperation, began to spew thanks just as Michael cut him off.
- “Thank you, Mr. Thompson!”
He scrambled out of the office, a portrait of defeat. Michael watched him leave, his gaze then shifting to Chloe.
- “Have I seen her before?” he murmured, a nagging thought at the edge of his mind. “Alex Davis.”
- “Yes, Mr. Thompson?”
- “Bring me my marriage certificate. And remind me, last year, what was the name of the woman you found for me to marry?”
Alex, ever the epitome of efficiency, responded without hesitation.
- “Olivia Bennett, sir. Are you certain?”
Michael frowned.
- “I’m certain. Could I have remembered it incorrectly?” He shifted his attention back to Chloe. “Chloe Miller, I’ll get you some materials to review. Is that acceptable?”
- “Okay,” Chloe replied, still slightly dazed by the whirlwind of events.
Later, Alex handed Chloe a thick binder of documents.
- “Take these documents home and familiarize yourself with them,” he instructed.
- “Okay,” Chloe agreed, making her way back to her new, if temporary, workspace.
Days later, Michael stood in his office, a look of deep frustration on his face.
- “Mr. Davis, I apologize,” he said, looking at Alex. “Has there been any luck finding it?”
- “Not yet, sir,” Alex conceded, appearing equally baffled. “I distinctly remember placing it right here, in this very spot. But it has simply… vanished.”
Chloe, who was passing by the open office door, overheard their conversation.
- “Assistant Alex, what are you searching for?”
- “My marriage certificate,” Alex mumbled, his search continuing unabated.
- “Let me help you look!” Chloe offered, stepping into the office.
- “That won’t be necessary,” Michael interjected with a curt tone. “Go and retrieve the product ingredient list for my signature.”
- “The ingredient list?” Chloe asked, slightly confused.
- “Yes. Now, please go.”