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"I’m here," she said. "Ninety-Fifth Street, GM Area. Where are you?"
“Great! You’re right on time,” Jeremy said cheerfully. “Stark Entertainment. Come inside. They’ll ask for an entry card at the entrance—I’m sending you a picture of it. Show that, then head to the seventh floor. Room twenty-eight. The team’s waiting for their new choreographer.”
Ellie’s hands trembled as she slowly turned to face the building again.
She wasn’t dreaming.
This wasn’t a misunderstanding.
Jeremy had actually called her to Sawyer’s company. Stark Entertainment—her boyfriend’s company.
To teach Sawyer’s people how to dance.
Was this going to be her last day on earth? Probably.
But then she thought about the amount Jeremy had promised her. The money was too good to refuse. Fear could take a backseat.
Biting her lip, she stared at the building a little longer, then convinced herself, ‘Sawyer Stark owns the biggest entertainment company in the country,’ she reasoned with herself. ‘He makes, like, a billion dollars a year… or a month… or whatever. Is he really making that much money by sitting in his office all the time? Obviously not.’
With that logic, she grinned, all her worries vanishing in an instant. ‘If he doesn’t see me, I was never here. Human not in sight, problem out of mind!’
Adjusting her bag, she marched toward the entrance, showed the digital entry card as Jeremy had instructed, and walked inside with newfound confidence.
***
A few hours later, Henry was updating Sawyer on the company’s recent affairs.
“Ms. Maya received an offer from Louis Vuitton,” he said. “We’re preparing to send her to Europe for the shoot next month. All arrangements have been made.”
Sawyer nodded slightly, skimming through his emails.
“We’ve also received a collaboration offer from Neste Entertainment. The team is still assessing the potential revenue, and we’ll submit a final report for approval in an hour."
Another nod.
Henry hesitated for a second before clearing his throat. “And lastly—” He took a deep breath and stepped forward, looking visibly panicked.
Sawyer’s fingers paused over his keyboard. “What?”
Henry's face slightly panicked—no, completely panicked. He looked like a man who had just been sent to his execution. But not reporting the news about his boss’s girlfriend would be far worse than death, so he swallowed his fear and stepped forward.
“Mr. Stark, I have news about Ms. Ellie.” Henry said, his voice unnaturally calm, betraying the absolute terror inside him.
Sawyer didn’t even look up. “Let her buy whatever she wants.”
Henry exhaled sharply. "It’s not about a purchase, Mr. Stark," he clarified quickly before fear could steal his voice. "Ms. Ellie is here at the company today."
Sawyer’s head snapped up. “Say that again.”
Henry wiped his damp palms against his suit. “She—uh—she joined as a choreographer. One of the seniors hired her on the spot. She’s in room twenty-eight, helping prepare for next week’s show.”
Before Henry even finished, Sawyer was already on his feet, his brows knitted in frustration as he strode toward the door.
Henry scrambled after him. “Mr. Stark—one more important thing!”
Sawyer shot him a brief glance, the kind that made grown men reconsider their life choices.
Henry gulped. “Ms. Ellie is in the same room as Ms. Olivia.”