Chapter 2

The moment I step into these giant glass doors, I feel my heart leave my body.

Even with all the fascination I hold for Lance, I had never walked into Saint Haven until thirty seconds ago. I mean, what's a person like me looking for in a hotel this extravagant? Okay, that was my thinking before the start of this week. Because right now, I have every reason to be in here. I may... just may... be the next secretary to the CEO of Saint Haven.

Strictly speaking, I don't even know how huge this is yet for me. Both the new undercover job Noah has given me and the big responsibility to work side by side with Lance. I must please two opposing masters without fail. I must be the very trustworthy, agile and capable secretary Lance needs. I must also be the entrusted investigative journalist to Noah. Sounds pretty easy, but I know better. To say the least, I'm already terrified. My legs have began to fidget.

"Good morning," I greet the front desk officer with a smile. I don't think Lance pays attention to decency, hence this lady's cleavage wouldn't be so close to revealing her nipples.

She peeps through the corner of her computer. "How may I help you?" She asks, returning her eyes to her computer again.

I hope I get every line right. Despite my love for journalism, and as unbelievable as it may sound, deception has never been my forte. "Uhm-" I falter. My palms are already very sweaty. "I have an interview with the resource manager for the position of secretary to Mr Haven. My-"

She doesn't let me finish. She brings her head out again. With a welcoming look, this time. "You must be Grace Anderson, with what I can see here."

"Yes," I muster with a nod. "That's me."

The lady stands up, props her head over her desk and looks at me from hair to shoes like my style is also an assessment for the job. Silly me. It must be. We're talking about Lance's secretary, not someone else.

After assessing me, she hums a little like she's impressed and snaps her finger at another lady I assume must be an escort because she's dressed in black and white. "Show her to Emma's office, please."

I wonder how this front desk officer thinks a plain black, sleeveless cotton dress and a black sandal barely three inches high is impressive enough. I broke sweats until I finally decided on this outfit. Though I'm still unsatisfied with my look, I guess she isn't.

The monochrome lady waste no time to walk towards the elevator and I follow behind her.

Through the ride up the elevator, I think about Lance. I have no personal opinion about him except that he's stinkingly rich, which everyone else knows. Even if he were a bad person like Noah has prepped me for, he hasn't done anything to hurt me nor hurt anyone close to me. Who am I to get on this job as a spy? Well, I'm a person who's at the verge of losing the only true job I have if back out of this.

Noah's not gonna hear one more excuse from me and would be the first to clear my office of my things. Then he'd call me Gra-a-ace and ask what my parents were thinking on the day of my birth. Facing Noah's humiliation is the least of my problem. I have unsettled debts. Debts that would not pay themselves if I'm jobless. Levi depends on me for a fairly good life too. How do I let her down because I'm sympathetic towards a guy that makes more money in a month than I can make my whole life. He'd not even spare me a glance if I cried to him for help.

I exhale deeply and chin up, preparing myself for what's waiting for me at the top of this building.

I must muster all the strength I can if I want to do this. It's pretty simple—go in there, nail the interview, get hired, make Lance trust me enough to lose his guard around me, then I begin to uncover his affairs. That's it! Exactly how Noah has said. In a few weeks, I should be done with this and back to my normal life.

What happens after my investigation is over is none of my business. It's none of Noah's, even. We get paid and we move to the next.

I check my wristwatch to be sure I'm not running late. I realize I still have about fifteen minutes to train my breathing and gather composure.

I will do it. I can do it.

"There are 46 floors, 12 rooms on each floor and a bar at the back," Said Noah. And I can clearly see the number of floors on the elevator buttons.

When we reach the topmost floor, the elevator dings its arrival and opens for us to come out. I still follow who's leading into the space that welcomes us.

At first, it's a huge open space with a fairly big office to the right. No doors, just a rectangular entrance and a glass window facing the deep ends of the city. I already have a feeling that would be my office.

Just then, when I see another door with a tag Lance Haven, I feel my bowel move. Still walking in, I see another door that doesn't have a tag and it just twists my stomach even more. I don't know which is worse between seeing Lance's office and a door I have no idea of what it would hold. I solidly pray that's not where I'm going. It looks like a door to hell.

We both halt in the middle of this big hall. To the left is flight of stairs that lead god-knows-where.

I try to tilt my head to look up and see where the stairs lead to and where it ends, because it's kind of spiral.

"It leads to the roof of the building," Monochrome lady comes to my rescue, I might have just broken my neck if she didn't. "It's the boss's favorite spot. He gets to see everything from that-"

"I wonder why you're talking to a stranger about the boss," a very cold voice sweeps the hall like an icy wind. It's daring and harsh.

I don't turn around, but I know this certain female is coming towards us. I can hear the knocking of her heels against the tiles as it gets louder and closer.

I hold my breath until I see her walk past me. It's her hips in the con dress that catch my attention first. Then her cleavage when she swirls to face me.

"Anderson," she calls. She freezes for a while. Slowly and slowly, her face carves and angry expression until she finally turns to the monochrome lady. "Do you still want to talk about the boss or you have other important things to do?"

I don't know this woman but I already have a problem with her. I have a huge problem with the way she's treating people with contempt like Noah would.

When the lady takes the elevator down, this aggressive woman says, "My name is Emma Lawson. Follow me." It is now I sight a file and a pen in her hands.

Candidly, I'm too unobservant for this job. I hope I don't get in serious trouble. Noah wouldn't think twice before he removes himself and anything that would link me back to him.

I thought the door without tag would be my undoing, I actually thought wrong. The door with Lance's name is my undoing. I didn't except to have an interview with him directly, much less in his office.

"He's going to be in there?" I say in quite a shock. I've never heard of a boss having an interview directly with a potential employee.

"Of course," she responds. "You have a problem with that?" Her eyes do more of the questioning.

I don't answer for a while. I think about how I'm going to face him so weak and almost out of breath. If I need this job—which I desperately do—I'd need to be more convincing than I am right now. I can't even convince myself that I'm good enough for this, much less Emma or even Lance.

I remain put, but only momentarily. As soon as we walk through Lance's office door, fascination and fear trickle through me.

Unlike every other office I'd been in, this particular office smells like nothing. Yes, the first thing I notice about every room I step into is if it has a distinctive smell, this one doesn't.

I scan the huge space right after inhaling deeply and start to exhale slowly with each step I take behind Emma.

"Normally, interviewing a potential staff do not concern the boss, that's my job to do, but you're of great importance to him. So he'd drill you himself," she finally answers the questions that has bugging me since I walked into his office.

Emma is in my line of sight as I trail behind her, so the only things I can make out are the huge floor to ceiling windows that stand together as two walls directly opposite and adjacent to the entrance of the office. There's a mini bar that is dimly lit to my right and to my left is a station that contains a fancy coat rack, a podium with a few control buttons that may or may not control the giant tv on the wall which shows different news channels and another monitor showing what appears to be different areas in the building.

"Mr Haven, your ten o'clock is here," Emma says and gestures for me to step in front of her.

I take a step and then two more, which brings me right in front of a huge desk. I swipe my sweaty palm across my thigh and finally come face to face with Lance. He's not sitting behind his desk, he's standing behind his chair and holding up a finger as if to tell us to give him one moment. I notice an AirPod on his left ear and he's talking quietly.

He doesn't once spare me or Emma a glance.

His call goes on for forty five more seconds. I know this because I counted every second and every step it took me to get from his giant door to where I'm currently standing. He pulls the AirPod from his ear and moves to take his seat behind the desk. He still doesn't look at us.

"Thank you, Lawson," he says with a modulated voice as he picks up a book jacket and a pen from the corner of his desk and drops the AirPod on the desk.

I stand awkwardly in the middle of the office and watch Emma excuse us. I am aching to take a seat but I know very much that such a move would be the first thing to cost me my place in this job.

Lance doesn't ask me to take a seat like I expect, instead he stands up again after scribbling something in the book in front of him. He gives me a quick glance and I scan his face.

I've seen him many times before now, but never up close and in person. He's been on many blogs, social media and tv news. In fact, if you walked down the street and passed by the news stands, it's certain that his picture and name is on every front page of every newspaper and magazine. No lies he has the typical look of a thirty year old man. But with his position and status, that is almost too young.

He is with no doubt an attractive thirty year old, with a boyish look, jet black hair, neatly shaved six o'clock shadow. I try not to focus too much on his looks, but I'm totally drawn to his perfectly tailored outfit that conceals a perfectly toned body. His muscles flex as he turns pages of what appears to be a file in one of the book jackets.

He works back and forth between the file and a tablet, humming quietly and still not acknowledging my presence.

"Your name?" He finally breaks the silence, looks up at me and gestures me to take a seat. There's something sweet and deadly in the way he demands.

I'm utterly speechless at this moment. I don't look him in the eye again because the light against his eyes makes them cold like ice. So my feet remain planted on the same spot "Grace Anderson," I state.

"Hmm-" he immediately cuts in. "Grace," sparing me a glimpse, he repeats and then says, "Nice" barely audibly.

I don't know what to think of such a comment. I don't want to get too comfortable, still I want to maintain my comportment.

"Take a seat," he commands. But as I'm trying to make myself fairly comfortable on the chair a step away from me, I hear him speak. "No, the one in front of the light." And I know I'm just at the brink of collapsing.

Lance doesn't say anything until Emma comes back in. He doesn't even look at me like I'm of great importance to him like Emma has said. "Why did you apply for this secretarial position?" His question hits me unexpectedly.

Without wasting much time, I swallow hard and begin. "I want to have this job, because I believe I can bring some value to the office as a secretary."

He squints. "What do you think are the most important skills a secretary should have?"

"Skills that I have," I return.

"Which are?" His eyes grow narrower and his voice deepens.

"Good communication skills, I'm friendly, and people feel good with me." I take a couple of seconds to recollect my words before I pick up again. "Simply, I believe I can do a good job as a personal assistant."

"You believe? Or you know?"

This is the point my words strangle and die in my throat. I never respond to that question. I don't even try. The ear deafening silence tells me I'm done for. I ready myself for a harsh outburst from either one of them. More likely Lance when he'd order me to get out of his office and never come back.

Lance surprisingly carries on. "What are your main motivations to succeed at work?"

"Acknowledgements. Recognition. Uhm- That's about it, Sir." The word sir catches his attention. He looks up from my fiddling fingers to stare at my face.

"What are your main strengths and weaknesses?" He throws again.

"Working under pressure is a strength, I'm very coordinated. I'm focused too," I say the last part so unconvincingly that right after, I regret having said it.

"Grace!" He call out that I can't help but look straight into his eyes wonderingly. "Why should we hire you?" This question seems like the last. Like he's giving me the last opportunity to prove myself worthy of the position, but I really don't know exactly what to say that'll nail it.

"Why not?" Is what I could think of.

I hear him mutter something under his breath. I also see Emma's eyes spread out in shock.

Wasn't I supposed to say that?

"Why do you want to work here?" Emma asks me, eyeing me cruelly. If I'm reading her expressions correctly, It's telling me to say something convincing that wouldn't come off as rude.

The only thing that comes to mind is, "Why not Saint Havens?" And I say it with a shrug.

Lance begins to ask me a bunch of questions that I have no idea about. Actually, he begins to interrogate me with things like the number of branches of Saint Havens that exist, the biggest and most expensive Saint Havens Tower in San Fran. In what specific cities they're all situated.

Frankly, I have no in-depth knowledge on anything concerning Lance Haven, so I guess through all the questions. The only one I'm very sure of is the name of his last secretary and that's because Noah mentioned her name earlier today. Beverly Smith.

By the end of the interview, I'm very convinced that I didn't only not do well enough, I didn't do anything at all.

"Can you wait outside for a minute?" Emma tells me. "We'd get back to you briefly."

Defeated, I get up, and with my tail between my legs, I head for the large doors.