Chapter 8

ELEANOR'S POV

I met Hailey at the small café near her place after work. The moment I sat down she knew something was wrong.

"Talk," she said.

I rubbed my forehead. "It's uncomfortable. Every single day, having him as my boss after what happened that night is just weird." I said, sighing in frustration.

"I walk into the building and I remember everything. His hands, his mouth…the way he felt. Then I have to sit in meetings with him and act like none of it ever happened."

Hailey reached across the table and touched my hand. "I was the one who told you to apply to Pierce Enterprises. Don't put all of this on yourself. I'm sorry. If I had known it was him, I never would have recommended it."

"It's fine," I said quickly. "Don't do that. You couldn't have known. I wouldn't have expected the CEO himself to be the man from that night either. Nobody would."

She studied my face. "Has he said anything about it? About that night?"

"No. Neither of us has mentioned it directly. We both act like it never happened. You know, trying to keep it professional and distant. But the silence is almost worse. Sometimes I catch him looking at me in meetings and I know he's thinking about it too. Then he looks away like nothing is wrong."

Hailey leaned forward. "Are you attracted to him?"

I looked away and took a sip of water. "That's not the point."

"Eleanor. Answer me."

"I'm not answering that. It doesn't matter."

She sighed. "You've been through enough already. Ian messed you up badly. The debt and everything. Be careful about getting involved with another man right now. Especially this one. He's your boss and we both know that never ends well."

"I'm not looking for a relationship," I said firmly. "I only want to work and repay the loan. That's it. There is nothing else. I don't have time or energy for anything more."

"How much of the debt is still left?"

I hesitated, then told her the number. Her eyes widened a little.

"It's still large enough that I cannot afford to lose this job," I said. "One mistake and I'm back to square one. I won't let that happen. I can't."

Hailey nodded slowly. "The important thing is that you're finally putting yourself first. You're not chasing after Ian or trying to fix him. You're focusing on you, that's progress."

"I am," I said. "I have to. There's no other choice."

She sat back and stirred her drink. "At least you're not the only one dealing with money stress. My rent went up again last month and the side arrangement is the only reason I'm still in that apartment. Some nights I hate it, while other nights I'm just grateful the bills get paid."

I looked at her. "You never talk about how it actually feels."

"What's there to say? It's temporary or at least that's what I keep telling myself. Some of the men are fine, people like Aaron, they're usually quiet, do what they want to do and leave. While others…I just lock the bedroom door after and try not to think about it. Last week one of them tried to stay longer than the agreement and I was forced to raise my voice, I hated that."

"Hailey, that sounds dangerous."

"I'm careful. I screen them. I never use my real name. But still, some nights I lie awake wondering how long I can keep doing it."

"You shouldn't have to."

"I know. But right now I do. I'm picking up extra shifts at the store too. Slowly I'm getting ahead. Another six months and I might be able to stop completely. You focus on your loan, I'll focus on my rent and I'm sure we'll both survive. Deal?"

I reached over and squeezed her hand. "Deal. You're stronger than you admit."

"So are you," she said. "That's why I know you'll handle this Aaron situation without letting it drag you down. Just keep your head straight."

"I'm trying."

The next day, Aaron's assistant appeared at my desk. "Mr. Pierce wants to see you."

I walked to his office and knocked.

"Come in."

He was standing near the window when I entered. He turned and gestured to the chair. "Sit."

I did.

"I've been impressed by your work since you started," he said. "You handle pressure well and you don't make excuses. The team has noticed, even the ones who usually complain about new hires."

"Thank you," I said. "I'm just doing my job."

He sat across from me and rested his arms on the desk. "Are you struggling financially?"

The question hit me sideways and I felt my shoulders tense up.

"Why do you want to know?" I asked.

He didn't look away. "I noticed how carefully you handle every expense claim without anything extra or unnecessary. And someone mentioned you had been dealing with a large financial obligation. I like paying attention to details."

I felt heat rising in my face. "I don't discuss my private finances at work. With anyone, including you. That is strictly personal business."

He held my gaze for a moment, then nodded once. "Alright. I accept that boundary."

The silence went on for a minute.

"However," he continued, "if you ever need assistance, you can ask. The offer is there without any strings attached or questions beyond what's necessary."

I stood up. "Thank you. But I intend to handle my problems myself. That's non-negotiable for me. I'll get myself out of whatever it is I'm going through."

He watched me for another second, then leaned back. "Understood. I won't bring it up again."

"I appreciate that."

"You're doing well here, Miss Mae. Don't let outside pressure affect that."

"I won't."

I turned and walked out of his office, closing the door quietly behind me. My hands were steady, but my heart was not.

Three days later, that steadiness was tested properly. I walked into a meeting room already thick with tension. The client sat at the head of the table with his arms crossed. His company was one of our larger accounts, and he had already sent three angry emails before noon.

"This proposal is unacceptable," he said the moment everyone sat down. "You've wasted my time and my money. I want a new plan or I'm taking my business elsewhere."

One of the senior managers tried first. "We've already adjusted the timeline twice based on your feedback—"

"I don't want adjustments. I want results. What you delivered is not what we agreed on."

Another team member spoke up. "The delays came from the additional requests your side made after the contract was signed."

The client slammed his hand on the table. "Well. I'm not interested in excuses."

The room went tense. Nobody seemed ready to push him further.

"May I say something?" I asked.

Aaron looked at me. The client gave a short nod.

"We made mistakes," I said clearly. "The first version of the plan did not account for the scale of the changes you requested mid-project. That was on us, we should have flagged the impact on the deadline earlier."

The client cut me off. "So you admit failure."

"I'm admitting where we went wrong," I continued without raising my voice. "But the solution you're rejecting now actually fixes the main problems you listed in your last email. The revised schedule protects the parts of the project that are already complete and isolates the sections that still need work."

"That's not good enough."

"It addresses the budget overrun and the missed milestones," I said. "If we restart completely, you'll lose the progress that is already paid for. This way you keep what works and we correct what doesn't."

He leaned forward. "And if it fails again?"

"Then the next review happens in two weeks, not two months. You'll have clear checkpoints and the right to pull the project if the numbers don't improve."

I didn't look away from him. I used the exact figures from the project file to back every point. Every time he interrupted, I waited, then answered the new question without getting flustered.

After several more rounds he finally sat back. "Fine. We'll try it your way. But I want the first checkpoint report on my desk in fourteen days."

"You'll have it," I said.

The meeting ended and people started gathering their things. Aaron stayed seated. "Miss Mae. Please remain behind."

I waited until the room cleared, then looked at him.

"You handled that well," he said.

"Thank you. I was simply doing what needed to be done."

He studied me for a moment. "Have you always been this confident?"

I gave a small shrug. "I've learned not to panic when things go wrong. Panicking doesn't fix anything."

"Does that apply to your personal life too?"

My expression shifted immediately. I looked at the table instead of him.

"I should get back to the report for the checkpoint," I said.

He let it go. "Alright."

I turned to leave.

"Miss Mae."

I stopped at the door but didn't face him fully.

"Do you have any plans for the evening?"

"I need to go home," I answered.

I walked out and let the door close behind me, my hands were steady, but my heart? Not nearly as much.