Chapter 14 First Day Part 2
My stomach twisted with nerves, but I nodded anyway, pretending I wasn’t internally panicking.
The elevator slowed and chimed again, the doors sliding open to reveal a bright, bustling floor.
Before I could fully process where we were, a woman stepped forward, her presence warm and immediately commanding attention.
“So nice to meet you!” she said brightly. “I heard Damien got a new assistant—didn’t think she’d be this beautiful.”
I blinked in surprise.
The young woman had dirty blonde hair styled into soft waves that framed her face, her rosy cheeks lit up with a genuine smile. Her sea-blue eyes met mine, curious and friendly.
“Oh—thank you,” I said automatically, a little caught off guard.
“Jasmine, this is Richelle,” Raymond said. “Richelle, Jasmine.”
Richelle extended her hand, her smile unwavering. I shook it, mirroring her friendliness as best as I could, though mine felt far less natural.
“She’ll explain everything, like I said,” Raymond continued. “Good luck, ladies. I’ll be heading out now. And Jess—when you find the canteen, join me for lunch.”
With that, he turned and walked away, disappearing back into the elevator.
My eyes lingered on the spot where he vanished before I turned back to Richelle.
She was watching me with an unreadable expression. Not unkind—just… knowing. Almost cheeky.
“Alright,” she said, clapping her hands together lightly. “Let’s get started.”
She began walking, and I followed.
“So,” Richelle continued, “Damien is a very busy man. You probably already know that. His schedule is tight—down to the minute. Not even five minutes can be wasted. Everything you need should already be in your office. Just go there, take a breath, and go with the flow.”
Easier said than done.
“Come along,” she added.
As she led the way, she glanced back over her shoulder. “By the way—I love your outfit.”
I smiled shyly. “Thanks.”
She was only a few inches taller than me, her posture confident. The light blue pantsuit she wore hugged her figure perfectly, paired with nude heels that pulled the entire look together effortlessly. She was stunning—no other word for it.
I couldn’t help the flicker of regret that passed through me over my own outfit.
We entered a spacious office, and I froze.
Floor-to-ceiling windows revealed a breathtaking view of the city below. I walked toward them instinctively, my breath hitching as I took it all in. From up here, the city looked small. Manageable.
Like it was under my control.
The office itself felt… balanced. Warm brown wood floors contrasted beautifully with the crisp white furniture. A sleek desk sat near the window, a computer already powered on, files neatly stacked beside it. A large flat black screen occupied one wall, facing a marble table surrounded by an L-shaped couch.
It felt powerful. Yet comforting.
“This is your office,” Richelle said. “You’ll be here whenever Damien doesn’t need you.”
Something about the black screen caught my attention, but before I could comment, she gestured for me to follow her again.
We took the elevator down three floors.
As the doors opened, the atmosphere shifted immediately. Laughter, conversation, the clink of cutlery. People filled the space—some seated at tables with plates of food and steaming cups in hand, others standing and chatting.
The smell hit me next.
Freshly brewed coffee. Cinnamon. Warm pastries.
“It smells lovely, I know,” Richelle said with a knowing smile.
“This is the canteen,” she continued. “You’ll be coming here every morning to get Damien’s coffee. And listen carefully—don’t mess it up. Two shots of espresso. Exactly. Nothing more, nothing less.”
I nodded intently, committing every word to memory.
“Damien likes things done his way,” she added. “No changes.”
She knew him well. Too well.
I almost asked how—but stopped myself.
One step at a time, Jasmine.
I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself.
I had a feeling this job was going to be a whirlwind.
And I was already standing in the eye of the storm.
+-+
Jasmine swallowed hard as she stood before the two revolving glass doors that led into Damien Black’s office.
They looked intimidating—sleek, polished, and impossibly heavy, like a threshold she wasn’t entirely sure she was meant to cross. She shifted her weight slightly, clutching the cup of coffee in her hand a little tighter than necessary. Her gaze darted past the tinted glass, trying to catch even a glimpse of movement inside.
Nothing.
No shadow. No silhouette. No sign of him.
She released a slow breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.
“Get it together,” she muttered under her breath.
Pushing one of the doors open, she stepped inside—and instantly regretted breathing in so deeply.
His scent hit her like a quiet ambush.
Warm. Clean. Masculine. Something rich and expensive beneath it, like cedarwood and spice, the kind of scent that clung to the air long after the person had left. Goosebumps spread across her olive skin, prickling her arms and the back of her neck as if her body recognized him even when he wasn’t there.
Her eyes swept the office cautiously.
Still empty.
The space was breathtaking in a way that felt deliberate—dark wood, black accents, clean lines. Everything screamed control. Power. Precision. Floor-to-ceiling windows framed the city like a kingdom laid out beneath him, and the massive desk at the center of the room looked less like furniture and more like a throne.
She swallowed again and forced herself to move.
Crossing the room, she approached his desk and gently placed the coffee down on its surface, aligning it neatly near the edge, just as Richelle had instructed.
Two shots of espresso. Nothing more. Nothing less.
She straightened, letting out a small, nervous laugh.
Satisfied that Damon hadn’t arrived yet, Jasmine felt some of the tension slowly melt from her shoulders. Thank God. She needed a moment—just a minute—to gather herself.
To remind her racing heart that she was here to work. To breathe without feeling like she might combust under the weight of his presence.
She turned away from the desk, already rehearsing what she’d say when he walked in.
Good morning, Mr. Black.
Here’s your coffee.
Professional. Calm. Normal.
The sound that tore from her throat was anything but.
“Ah—!”
A loud yelp escaped her as she collided with something solid—warm—very much alive.
Her heart slammed violently against her ribcage as she stumbled back half a step, eyes flying upward.
Straight into a pair of emerald green eyes.
Her breath caught painfully in her throat.
Damien.
He stood directly in front of her, so close she could feel the heat radiating off his body. She hadn’t heard the door open. Hadn’t sensed him enter.
It was as if he’d materialized out of thin air, silent and commanding, just to prove how easily he could throw her off balance.
“Oh my God—you scared me,” she blurted out, one hand flying to her chest as if to physically restrain her heart from leaping out.
Her chest rose and fell rapidly, breath uneven, pulse racing. She was painfully aware of how close he was. Too close. Close enough that his scent completely enveloped her now, stronger than before, making her head feel light.