Chapter 235

Chapter 235
Hannah

An awkward silence fell between us. I fidgeted with my water glass, suddenly aware of how alone we were in his spacious office.
"So," Michael cleared his throat. "How are your classes going?"
"Good!" I said, perhaps too enthusiastically. "Busy, but good. I'm working on a mini-collection for my project."
"That's fantastic." His eyes crinkled when he smiled. "I always knew you'd make it in fashion."
"I haven't made it yet," I reminded him. "I'm still just a student who makes coffee for a living."
"For now," Michael corrected. "But not for long. You're too talented to stay hidden behind a counter."
His faith in me was both touching and uncomfortable. What would he think if he knew about Leonardo? About how I'd funded my studies and my mother's medical bills?
"Thank you for believing in me," I said quietly. "Not many people have."
"Their loss," Michael said simply.
I glanced at my watch, reluctant to leave but knowing I should. "I should go. I have class in an hour."
"Of course." Michael stood when I did, walking me to the door. "Hannah, about that night at my party..."
My heart stuttered. "What about it?"
"I meant what I said. It wasn't just the champagne talking." His eyes held mine, serious and sincere. "But I understand your focus is on your career right now, and I respect that. This job offer isn't contingent on anything personal between us."
"I never thought it was," I assured him, relieved he'd addressed the elephant in the room. "You're not that kind of person."
"No, I'm not." He smiled. "But I am the kind of person who doesn't give up easily on something I want."
The implications of his words hung in the air between us, charged with unspoken possibilities.
"Michael..." I began, not sure what I wanted to say.
"You don't need to respond to that," he said quickly. "Just know where I stand. The ball's in your court."
I nodded, grateful for the reprieve. "I'll see you around?"
"Count on it." He opened the door for me. "And Hannah? Even if the job doesn't work out, my door is always open to you."
I nodded, feeling suddenly awkward under Michael's intense gaze. "And about the position, I should mention I'm looking for part-time work. My classes at Hawthorne are pretty demanding right now."
Michael's face brightened. "That's actually perfect. We can start you part-time, see how you fit with the team. Once you finish your program, we can discuss transitioning to full-time if you're interested."
"Really?" I couldn't hide my surprise. Most corporate positions weren't flexible with hours.
"Absolutely. I'd rather have you part-time than not at all." He leaned against the doorframe. "The marketing department could use your fresh perspective, even if it's just twenty hours a week."
Relief washed over me. "That would be amazing. Thank you, Michael."
"Don't thank me yet," he warned with a playful smile. "Margot might eat you alive in the interview."
"I can handle it," I assured him, more confident than I felt.
"I know you can." His voice was warm, and I caught something in his eyes, a flash of something more than professional interest that made my stomach flip. "You've always been tougher than you look."
I glanced at my watch. "I should really get going. My class starts soon."
"Of course." He straightened, clearing his throat. "I'll have my assistant contact you about the interview."
"Perfect." I adjusted my bag on my shoulder.
Michael reached out, his hand briefly touching my arm. "It was good to see you, Hannah. Really good."
The simple touch sent an unexpected jolt through me. "You too."
"Let's keep in touch, okay?" His eyes held mine. "Even if the job doesn't work out."
"Definitely," I agreed, stepping into the hallway. "And thanks again for thinking of me."
"Always," he said, the word hanging between us with weight I wasn't ready to examine.
I turned and walked toward the elevator, feeling his eyes on me until I rounded the corner.

Three days later, I was back at Parker Industries, this time on the twentieth floor, where the marketing department was housed. The reception area was sleek and modern, with oversized fashion and lifestyle magazine covers framed on the walls.
A young woman greeted me. "Hannah Mitchell? Margot's ready for you. Follow me."
She led me through an open office space filled with people typing furiously at computers or huddled in small groups around whiteboards covered in colorful sticky notes.
"Here we are," she said, stopping at a glass-walled office. "Good luck."
Margot was not what I expected. Instead of the stern, middle-aged executive I'd imagined, I found myself facing a woman in her early thirties with purple-tipped hair and thick-framed glasses.
"Hannah!" She stood, extending her hand. "I've heard so much about you. Please, sit."
I shook her hand, surprised by her friendly demeanor. "Thank you for seeing me."
"Are you kidding? Michael wouldn't stop talking about you." She grinned. "I had to meet this marketing genius for myself."
I felt my face flush. "He's exaggerating. I just finished my post-grad program."
"With honors, according to your resume." She tapped a folder on her desk. "And that sustainable fashion campaign proposal was brilliant. Exactly the kind of thinking we need around here."
My heart skipped. Michael had actually shown her my work.
The interview flowed more like a casual conversation than the intense grilling I'd prepared for. Margot asked about my studies, my perspective on social media trends, and my thoughts on influencer marketing.
"Here's the thing," she said after about thirty minutes. "We're expanding rapidly. Everyone wears multiple hats. One day you might be writing copy, the next day you could be helping with a photoshoot. Are you comfortable with that kind of flexibility?"
"That sounds perfect, actually," I replied honestly. "I like variety, and I'm eager to learn different aspects of the business."
Margot nodded approvingly. "Michael mentioned you need part-time hours because of your design classes."
"Yes, for now. I could do three full days a week, or spread the hours out however works best for the team."
"Three days works." She made a note. "We can revisit the schedule once you graduate if you decide to stay with us."
My pulse quickened. Was she offering me the job? Just like that?
"So..." I ventured, "does this mean...?"
Margot laughed. "Yes. The job is yours if you want it. Junior copywriter, starting at $35 an hour, twenty hours a week, flexible schedule. Health insurance kicks in after ninety days, even for part-timers."
I nearly fell out of my chair. That was almost double what I'd made at Moonbeam for half the hours. With this and Melissa's studio work, I'd actually be financially stable without touching Leonardo's money.
"I... yes! Absolutely, I accept!" I stammered, trying to maintain some semblance of professionalism despite wanting to jump up and down.
"Great!" Margot stood. "HR will email you the paperwork. Can you start next Monday?"
"Definitely."
"Perfect. Welcome to Parker Industries."