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Bleeding Hearts: The Complete Duet by A. Zavarelli (3)

As the elevator signaled its arrival to the top floor of The Bennett Corporation, my stomach somersaulted with nerves.

This place was so different to what I’d been expecting. It was a young environment, filled with fresh faces and an abundance of energy. But that didn’t fool me into thinking I was anywhere near being in my league. During this morning’s presentation, I’d been surprised to learn that the CEO was only twenty-nine years old. According to the manifesto, Mr. Bennett founded this Corporation as a simple cloud storage provider. But over the last three years, it had quickly expanded into one of the biggest tech giants this side of the Mississippi.

As I’d filled out paperwork with some of the other interns, I heard them dropping terms like ‘MIT’ and ‘Stanford.' I tried not to let it get to me, but when they started talking in tech speak, I was completely lost. Then one of them tried to include me in the conversation, asking where I went to school.

I’m sure I looked like a fish out of water as I tried to come up with something clever in response. But there was nothing clever to be said. I hadn’t gone to college because that wasn’t an option for me. Even if I had, I doubted I’d ever be as smart as any of these people. I’d spent the majority of the last few years trying to put food on the table and keep up with the rent. I didn’t have time for any other interests besides basic survival.

If Nicole hadn’t been standing on the other side as the elevator doors opened, I might have bolted. I didn’t know what I was doing in this place. I had no skills, no qualifications, and I had no idea how she’d managed to convince them I’d be of any use in this company.

The entire building was a conglomeration of marble and glass, and every line was so clean you could have sharpened a set of Ginsu knives on them. I was afraid to walk across the floors because they were so shiny, and every cell in my body was insistent I didn’t belong here.

Nicole gripped me by the shoulders and gave me a quick once over. I was wearing the white rose printed dress and matching baby pink cardigan I’d found on my bed this morning. Since she’d asked me to crash at her apartment, Nicole had insisted I borrow her clothes as often as I liked. With the designer labels, it was a very tempting offer. But these particular ones made me look sweet and innocent, which was definitely not the style I was going for. When I told her as much, she argued and said they suited me.

Still, Nicole was a lifeline, and I was grateful for her help. Even though I was nervous and uncomfortable, she’d gone out of her way to get me this job. I needed to suck up my own insecurities and do her proud.

“Don’t worry.” She smoothed her hands over my shoulders. “He’s going to love you.”

“Sorry?” I blinked at her in confusion. “Who’s going to love me now?”

“The CEO, silly.” She tugged my hand and started walking down the hallway. “Ryland Bennett. You’re going to meet with him now.”

My heels dug into the floor as I came to an abrupt halt, my apprehension for the shiny tile of little concern to me now.

“What do you mean I’m meeting with the CEO?” I croaked. “I thought this was an internship. The other interns are downstairs going to some sort of meeting, shouldn’t I be with them?”

“That’s for the techie group.” She smiled. “And Mr. Bennett insists on knowing every person that works for his company. Even the interns. He says it makes for good business practice. And he’s the billionaire, so I think he would know.”

“I’m sorry.” I ground my feet into my pumps to keep from falling over. “Did you say, billionaire?”

“Yes, of course, I did.” Nicole threw her head back in laughter. “Didn’t you even look up the company? He’s on the freaking Forbes list, Brighton.”

I cast my eyes to the floor and shook my head. It hadn’t even occurred to me, which only proved how wrong it was for me to be here. I was just a simple girl from Illinois. I kneaded dough in a bakery. Interning for a tech giant? It was the most ridiculous thing I’d ever heard. 

“I shouldn’t be here,” I blurted. “This was so stupid of me.”

“Oh, no you don’t.” Nicole shook her head. “You’re going in there Brighton, and you’re going to dazzle him. I promise you.”

“I can’t,” I whispered.

“I know what you’re thinking.” She squeezed my shoulders. “That you don’t have the right experience, and this feels all wrong. You’re going to mess up, or blah blah. Well, sweetie, that’s exactly why I think you’re perfect for this position. You’re a fresh canvas. You don’t have any preconceived notions about what it is you’re supposed to be doing. But you’re willing to learn, and you’re willing to work hard, right?”

“Yes.” I nodded and bit the inside of my cheek. 

“Good, then that’s all I can ask of you. Now get in there and flash those pearly whites. He doesn’t like to wait.”

“Oh.” I glanced at the door we were standing in front of. It was solid and heavy, which reflected the way my body felt as I tried to make it cooperate.

“Go on,” Nicole encouraged. “He’ll be right in to greet you.”

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes as I pressed my palm against the smooth wood. Despite the heavy appearance, the door opened easily and without a sound. Nicole gave me a thumbs up and shut the door behind me as I disappeared inside.

The office was huge. Had it not been so barren, it might have bordered on ostentatious. If it was a minimalistic theme the man was going for, he’d nailed it. More sharp lines greeted my eyes everywhere I looked, making me grateful for the soft cocoon of my cardigan as I wrapped it around me.

The place was sparse with only the necessary furnishings and little else to capture the eye. But I didn’t doubt that every one of those strategically placed Jetson’s style chairs still cost more than I made in an entire year.

Not knowing what else to do while I waited for the elusive CEO, I lingered in front of his desk. It felt too presumptuous to sit, and yet it seemed awkward if I just stood there. So I did what I usually did in these situations. I fidgeted.

I tugged on the hem of my dress. Brushed my hair back over my shoulders and pulled it back again. I had a serious mental debate about whether my cardigan should be buttoned or not while I checked my shoes for any scuffs.

Once I’d finished with all that, I started to pace around his office. I didn’t know where this guy was, but I found it rather odd for him to leave me here. I assumed someone in his position would be more concerned with his privacy than to allow a stranger to roam free, but what did I know? I was just another cog in the machine.

A strange looking metal sculpture caught my eye, and I almost reached out to touch it. But then I reminded myself that probably wasn’t appropriate.

Five minutes later, as I sat presumptuously in front of the desk, I decided to forgo that thought. Three round marble paperweights in front of me were too shiny to resist. They weren’t actually holding down any paper but lined up like ducks in a row. That should have been my first clue.

“Miss Valentine.”

I jumped at the voice behind me, instinctively jerking the paperweight and making it clatter to the floor. I retrieved it with a shaky hand and set it back on the desk before swiveling around in my seat.

When my gaze swept across the room, my mouth fell open and out tumbled what remained of my decorum.

 Those eyes.

My fingers flexed and curled in my lap as I stared at the peculiar shade of gunmetal blue. The same shade that had haunted me for the last five years. God, they were even more beautiful than I remembered. But they looked different somehow. Colder. They swept over me without recognition, and I died a little inside. What was he doing here?

I swallowed as I stood on shaky legs and gave him a small smile. Perhaps I looked different… perhaps it would take him a minute to remember. It was dark that night… and yet I could still recall every detail of his face.

Those details hardened over time, making him even more masculine than I remembered. His hair was just a shade shy of black, and it accented his eyes beautifully. He was clean cut, and everything about him was perfect. Too perfect, almost. I wanted to run my fingers through his hair while I kissed along his jaw line. I briefly wondered if he still wore the same cologne, and if I were to bury my nose in his neck, if that was the scent I would find there.

There was something seriously wrong with me. But for five long years, I’d thought of this man. Of his kiss, his touch, his broken promises. And now that I faced his careless indifference, I questioned if I had somehow imagined it all.

I watched his eyes eagerly, but recognition never sparked. He stalked around to the other side of his desk and gave me a business-like smile.

“Why don’t you have a seat,” he suggested. “I’m sorry I was running behind.”

My heart plummeted into my stomach, and I wasn’t sure why. His voice was warm, professional even. The way an employer should be. But that wasn’t what I wanted.

I took a seat and crossed my legs, not sure what else to do with them. He straightened a few things on his desk before eyeing the marble paperweight I had disrupted earlier. It clearly bothered him that it was no longer in a perfect line, and yet he refrained from straightening it. That was something that hadn’t changed at least. He paid attention to everything. Noticed every detail. So why didn’t he remember me?

I swallowed and bobbed my heel up and down as I waited for him to speak. He grabbed a folder from the top of his desk and started rifling through some paperwork, and I used the opportunity to study him discreetly.

Success looked good on him. He wore dark wash jeans and a gray blazer with an open collared dress shirt beneath. Smart and casual. Every time he moved, the fabric stretched across his chest, giving me a little glimpse of the muscular power that lay beneath. He loomed larger than my memory had done him justice, standing at around six feet at least. Now fully grown, I only stood at five foot one myself. My height and hair color had always hindered my ability to blend in, or at least I had thought.

The temperature in the room didn’t improve when he swung his gaze back to me. He appraised every inch of me with a neutral expression before he scanned my resume with obvious disinterest. I’d never felt so small, so unsure. I had no idea what to do or say in this situation, and I even found myself questioning the way I sat.

Yet, I couldn’t tear my eyes away from him. The tension was still there between us even now. I could feel it, so why couldn’t he?

“You don’t have much experience,” he observed.

I shrunk back into my chair and closed myself off, trying to dispel the bitter taste in my mouth. While I had been busy fantasizing about this man who didn’t even remember me, all he could say was how little I had to offer him. I may have been five years older, but I wasn’t any wiser. This was my golden opportunity, and it was swirling down the drain with every passing moment.

I searched my mind desperately for the right thing to say, anything that could salvage this chance, but I was coming up short. And the longer I sat there, not speaking, the more awkward things got between us.

“I’m a fresh canvas,” I blurted. “You can do what you like with me.”

The minute I’d said the words I was mortified and my cheeks burned in agreement. Ryland sank into his leather chair, drumming his fingers on the white surface of his desk while he studied me. His eyes darted to the marble paperweight twice more, but he still didn’t touch it.

It only served to remind me how much I didn’t fit in here. This man was neat and tidy and had a place for everything. Gone were the passion and fire I thought I’d once seen in him. Had my memory altered him so drastically? I was certain this was it. He was going to tell me to leave and never come back. But regardless of my feelings, I needed this job. More than I wanted to admit. So I decided to try another tactic. One that I wasn’t proud of.

“You don’t remember me, do you?”

He looked up at me, and something passed between us. I thought I saw heat flare in his eyes, but it happened so quickly, I couldn’t be sure if it was just my imagination. Because a moment later, he snapped his gaze to his watch with disinterest.

“I apologize if my manners are lacking,” he said. “Did I meet you at a benefit or something?”

Okay, so that wasn’t going to work either. I gave him a tight smile and decided to accept my fate. I would be sleeping in a homeless shelter soon enough.

“It doesn’t matter,” I replied. “It was a long time ago.”

He nodded and pressed the button on his intercom, calling out for Nicole. We sat in silence until she appeared in the doorway a moment later. He gestured her inside, and I clung to her presence as though it were a life-preserver.

“Nicole.” He greeted her as he readjusted the marble paperweight discreetly. “Is this the last of the interns?”

This. Being me. I shot Nicole a pleading glance, but she just smiled and kept her cool composure.

“It sure is, boss.”

“What do you intend to do with this one?” he queried.

“Well, I thought she could work up here. Stacey is always whining about how much stuff she has to do…”

“Here?” he asked incredulously. “On the fifteenth floor?”

Oh God, this was humiliating. Not only did he not remember kissing me- a kiss I’d long since been dreaming of- but he was treating me as if I was a complete and utter waste of space. I wanted to tell him not to worry about it. I wanted to tell him I didn’t need this job or any more of his time. But none of those things were true, and I had to swallow my pride and accept whatever scrap of kindness he would offer me.

“Is that going to be a problem?” Nicole smiled sweetly.

He mulled this over for a moment before giving a dismissive wave of his hand. “Fine.”

As we walked out of his office, I had conflicting feelings about my new job. Though my self-preservation was relieved at the prospect of an income, my indignation won out. He’d just treated me as if I was trash, and I couldn’t keep my mouth shut any longer.

“He’s kind of rude,” I whispered to Nicole as soon as we were in the clear.

She shot me a defensive look and shook her head in disappointment. “He’s really not. So I would withhold your judgments about him until you get to know him.”

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