Page 7 of Cherish my Heart

“That’s even better. A queen.”

“She didn’t flinch,” I say before I can stop myself. “She stood her ground. Even when everyone else looked ready to melt into the carpet.”

Harsh whistles. “And you’re going to fire her?”

“I should.” I would have if it was someone else, but she is quite efficient, and I see a spark in her. Either it’s all first-day excitement, or it’s genuinely a talent; she’s detail-oriented, resourceful, and has brilliant ideas.

He smiles smugly. “But you won’t.”

I sigh. “No. I won’t.”

“Because?” He wiggles his eyebrow, and I roll my eyes.

“She’s sharp. Her edits to the proposal saved the campaign. Her supervisor said, “She’s only been here a day and has already turned two weak segments into gold.” And I think I liked someone challenging me, which I will never admit to this guy.

“She’s smart and gutsy? Man, give her my number.”

“Goodbye, Harsh.”

He laughs. “Fine, fine. But you should thank her. You’ve been ice-cold for years. Maybe she’ll melt the—”

There’s a knock at the door. I hang up. No goodbye. He’s used to it.

“Come in.”

The door opens. And she walks in. Aditi. She’s smaller than I remember from across the conference table, but not delicate. Heart-shaped face, a beauty spot just above her lip that draws the eye, and warm brown eyes that study the room before they settle on me. Her black hair is loose and wavy, slightly tousled like she had other things to do besides tame it this morning.She’s beautiful. There's nervous energy clinging to her, but she hides it well.

She looks nervous, yes—but not afraid.

Interesting. Because I have seen people, grown-up men, cower in front of me. She doesn't, and I am quite impressed by that.

Before I can speak, she does. “I didn’t do anything wrong, sir,” she says quickly, the words tumbling out. “I stand by every word I said. If you wish to fire me, you can. I don’t mind, but—” I really thought she would apologize, but wow.

“Sit down.” She blinks, taken aback, and then her gaze shifts to the chair in front of my desk. She hesitates. Then walks over and sits, spine straight.

“I haven’t called you here to fire you,” I say, loosening my tie slightly. “If I wanted to, you’d have been gone then and there.”

“Oh.” Her eyebrows knit together, confusion flickering across her face. “Then why am I here, sir?”

I let the silence stretch. “You’re replacing my secretary,” I say finally. “Starting today.”

Her eyes widen. Her entire face wrinkles into disbelief. “What?”

“Rule number one,” I chuckle, “I don’t repeat myself.”

She leans forward slightly, tone clipped. “Respectfully, I’m here to learn marketing, sir. Not play your errand girl.”

She has guts. I’ll give her that. I lean in too. “I read your intern file,” I say quietly. Her mouth opens, then closes. Her arms cross. She’s defensive again. “Ten-year plan to become a CEO,” I say. “Admirable. But aiming low, don’t you think?”

She huffs, her mouth working around words she doesn’t say. Her eyes practically shoot fire. And her silence—it’s rare to find someone whose silence is loud. I enjoy it.

“You want to understand how this empire runs?” I ask. “Follow me. Sit in my meetings. Watch the chaos. Learn from it.” I sit back. “Or,” I add, “you can go back to fluff pitches and recycled marketing campaigns.”

I flip open my laptop, the screen casting a glow against the glass desk.

“I’ll give you tonight to think. If you agree, be here sharp at 9 AM. If not, return to the marketing department.”

She doesn’t move for a whole minute, staring at me as if I had grown two heads. This is spontaneous and maybe a bit reckless too on my part, but I like her efficiency, her spark, and her boldness, so I will give her a chance. Let's see if she can stay under me for even a week. That's a stretch because my last assistant ran away in four days.