Chapter 118 Hectic
ARYA’S POV
Within minutes, I had three beautiful white blouses laid out but as the associate rang them up, she frowned.
"I'm so sorry, but we're actually out of stock in the white button-downs in your size.” She actually looked apologetic. “These are display models, and they've already been purchased by another customer who's picking them up tomorrow."
My eyes widened. "What? But I need them.”
"However," she said quickly, seeing my distress, "we do have something that might work even better. A professional sheath dress that’s perfect for an office environment. Would you like to see it?"
I glanced at my phone. Thirty-five minutes left. "Yes. Please and hurry."
She hurried to a different section and returned with a white dress that had a modest neckline and hem that would fall just below the knee.
"Our dressing rooms are right over here. Try it on… I think it'll be perfect."
In the dressing room, I pulled off my coffee-stained shirt with shaking hands and slipped the dress over my head.
It was perfect.
The fabric fit like it had been made for me. I looked like someone who belonged in an office.
"How is it?" the associate called.
"I'll take it." I checked my phone again. Twenty minutes left. "Can you ring it up now? I have to get back."
"Of course!"
Five minutes later, I was racing back toward the office building, the dress already on, my coffee-stained shirt and the receipt stuffed into the shopping bag.
I burst through the office doors with three minutes to spare, breathless and slightly sweaty.
Diane, the woman who called me about the job, looked up from her desk. "Oh! Miss Russo. You're back and that dress is lovely."
I smiled. "Thank you. Is Mr. Traynor in?"
"Yes.” She nodded. “You can go right in."
I knocked on Ethan's door, my heart still racing.
"Come in."
He was at his desk, typing something on his computer. I stepped inside, suddenly very aware of how different I must look.
"Mr. Traynor. I'm back. Here's your card." I held it out to him.
He took it, then his eyes traveled up, taking in the white dress. His expression was unreadable.
"I couldn't find white shirts in my size," I explained quickly. "They suggested this instead. I hope that's okay. If it's not professional enough, I can-"
"It's fine." He stood, rounding his desk.
He was tall, I noticed that before, but with him moving closer, I suddenly felt how much space he took up.
He stopped directly in front of me, close enough that I could smell his cologne, it was something clean and expensive.
I couldn't breathe. Why was he standing so close?
"Mr. Traynor, thank you for-"He reached toward me, and I froze completely.
His fingers brushed the back of my neck, and I felt a tug. Then he was holding something, it was the price tag, still attached to the dress.
"You might want to remove this," he said, his voice low and amused.
Heat flooded my face. "Oh God. I was in such a hurry that I forgot to take it off."
He was still close, still looking down at me with those dark, assessing eyes. I could see flecks of amber in them this close up.
"You can go," he said quietly. "Diane will show you to your desk and explain your responsibilities."
"Right. Yes. Thank you." I took a step back, needing distance. "For the card and the dress. And the job. Thank you for-"
"Miss Russo."
I blinked. "Yes?"
"Stop thanking me and go do the work I'm paying you for."
But there was the slightest hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth.
I nodded and fled his office, my heart pounding for reasons that had nothing to do with being late.
Ethan Traynor was intense. The kind of presence that filled a room and made you very aware of yourself.
I pressed a hand to my chest, feeling my racing heart, and wondered what exactly I had gotten myself into.
"Miss Russo?" Diane called my attention with a welcoming smile. "Ready to get started?"
I took a deep breath, pushing thoughts of Ethan's proximity and dark eyes out of my head.
"Yes," I said. "I'm ready."
Diane led me through the office, her heels clicking against the polished floor.
"This is your desk," she said, gesturing to a small but tidy workspace near the window. "Computer, phone, supplies are all in the drawers. Your main responsibilities will be filing, data entry, answering calls, and general administrative support."
She introduced me to the other staff members, and it was a blur of names and faces I tried desperately to remember.
Everyone was polite but busy, barely pausing from their work to acknowledge me.
"Mr. Traynor runs a tight ship," Diane explained. "He expects professionalism and efficiency. But he's fair. Do your job well, and you'll have no problems."
She handed me a stack of folders. "Start with these. They need to be organized alphabetically and entered into the database. Think you can handle it?"
I nodded. "Yes. Absolutely."
"Good. If you have questions, ask.” She gave me a stern look. “Better to clarify than to make mistakes."
She left me to it, and I stared at the mountain of work ahead of me.
I could do this. I had to do this.
The day passed in a blur of filing, typing, and answering phones with "Traynor Marketing, how may I help you?" until the words became automatic.
My feet ached and my back hurt from sitting in an unfamiliar chair. And by three PM, the exhaustion hit me like a wall.
But I pushed through.
I didn't see Ethan again. His office door remained closed most of the day, and when he did emerge briefly to speak with Diane, he didn't even glance in my direction.
Which was fine. Better, even. I didn't need his intense gaze making me nervous.
By five PM, when Diane told me I could leave, I could barely stand.
"You did well today," she said. "See you tomorrow, eight AM sharp."
I nodded, gathered my things, and practically limped to the bus stop.
The ride home felt endless. Every bump made my head throb. By the time I trudged up the hostel stairs, I was ready to collapse.
I found Marco standing outside the hostel building, he looked up from his phone with a smile.
"There she is. The working woman."
My heart instantly melted. I hadn't realized how much I needed to see a familiar face until this moment.
He stood and pulled me into a hug, and I practically melted into it. His lips pressed against my forehead.
"How was your first day?" he asked, pulling back to look at me.
I opened my mouth to give him a simple "fine," but instead, everything came pouring out.