Lexi adjusted her blouse, fingers trembling slightly as she clutched her portfolio to her chest. The conference room was colder than expected—sleek, silent, polished like the people inside it.
Three executives sat across the long table. Serious faces. Minimal blinks. Professional chill.
But none of them made her blood pressure rise quite like the man seated at the head of the table.
Ethan Blackwood.
The man she had accidentally christened with coffee this morning.
Now, he sat there in a fresh suit — ink-black, clean-cut, cruelly perfect — as if her latte catastrophe had never happened.
His eyes, however, hadn't changed.
Still storm-gray. Still focused.
Still watching her like a puzzle he planned to break apart and never put back together.
Lexi's palms were sweating. But she wasn't backing down.
She clicked the remote. The screen behind her came to life.
"Good morning," she began, voice slightly breathless but clear. "I'm Lexi Thompson. And what I bring to Blackwood Signature Events is a creative mind built not just on aesthetics, but on adaptability."
That got a slight nod from Ava, the poised brunette sitting closest to Ethan.
"I didn't come from a luxury firm or a wealthy background. I came from clients who paid me in pie and desperation. I've had weddings held in parking lots, brand launches with no lights, and events where the groom forgot the ring."
She paused.
"But every time, I found a way to make it beautiful. I don't crack under pressure. I create under it."
She clicked again, revealing a set of photos — low-budget transformations with candles, paper, and a touch of Lexi-magic.
A bearded executive narrowed his eyes. "You made that archway out of… soda cans?"
Lexi smiled. "Recycled, painted, and wired. The theme was 'Eco Love.'"
He snorted, half-impressed. Ava leaned in, intrigued.
Her confidence built. "You won't find fancy credentials in my file. But you'll find proof of resourcefulness, heart, and bold thinking."
She moved through more slides: her events, color boards, last-minute hacks that turned disasters into dream moments.
"I know what elegance looks like, even when the budget doesn't agree. I believe people remember how a space made them feel. Not how much the chandelier cost."
Her voice was gaining ground now—steady, passionate, unshakable.
"I don't want to just plan events. I want to build moments that matter. That reflect people. That leave something behind."
She clicked to the final slide: a simple title card.
Her name. White letters. Stark black background.
Lexi exhaled. Silence followed. A heavy, deliberate pause.
Ava was the first to speak. "Your energy is… fresh," she said, slowly. "You don't lead with polish. You lead with punch."
Lexi tilted her head. "I lead with reality. I think people are tired of perfect. They want honest. They want wonder that feels reachable."
Another executive nodded slowly.
Then Ethan finally spoke.
His voice sliced through the silence. Controlled. Low. Masculine.
"I have one question."
Lexi turned to him, her stomach coiling.
"Yes, Mr. Blackwood?"
He closed the folder in front of him. Didn't blink.
"This morning," he said calmly, "was that... entrance part of your pitch too?"
The air shifted. Tension knotted.
Lexi blinked. "Excuse me?"
"You ran into me. Spilled your coffee. Walked off."
Some of the others looked between them, suddenly realizing something had happened before this meeting.
Lexi's cheeks burned, but she lifted her chin. "It was an accident."
"You didn't even offer to replace the watch."
"I didn't realize it cost more than a semester of college."
Someone choked back a laugh.
Ethan's face didn't move.
Lexi took a breath. "Look, I'm not going to pretend that was a good first impression. But if you want someone who never stumbles, I'm not your girl. If you want someone who can mess up and still deliver? I'm right here."
For the first time, his gaze shifted — sharper now. Curious, almost.
He leaned back in his chair, as if reevaluating.
Then: "You're hired."
Silence. Collective confusion.
Lexi blinked. "Wait… I am?"
Ava turned her head sharply. "That was fast."
"Two-week trial," Ethan said, flipping open a new document. "She'll start under Ava. Let's see how she performs with resources."
Lexi opened her mouth. Then closed it. Then opened it again.
"Thank you," she managed.
He didn't look up. "Don't make me regret it."
Lexi nodded, stunned. "I won't."
One Hour Later
Lexi pushed through the double glass doors and into the bright Manhattan sun like someone who had just escaped an emotional hostage situation.
She had no idea what had just happened.
Did she really just... get the job?
She stared at her reflection in the tall mirrored building across the street. Her blouse was still slightly wrinkled. Her curls half-frizzed. Her chest rising and falling too fast.
But there was something new in her eyes.
Fire.
She pulled out her phone and hit "Mom."
It rang twice.
"Lex?" Her mother's soft voice came through, laced with worry. "How did it go?"
Lexi exhaled. "Mom... I got it."
A beat of silence.
"You got what?"
"The job," she whispered. "At Blackwood Signature Events. The one I told you about. The dream one."
"Oh my God," her mother said, breath catching. "Lexi! Baby, that's incredible!"
Lexi blinked fast, overwhelmed. "I didn't think I would. I spilled coffee on the CEO this morning."
A sharp gasp. "What?!"
"I'll explain later. He still hired me. I don't even understand it. But I got it."
She sat down on the steps of the plaza and stared at her shoes, trying to ground herself. "Mom… we're gonna be okay."
"You've always made us okay," her mom whispered. "Even when you were hurting. Even when things were tight."
Lexi felt her throat tighten. "I'm gonna make you proud. I promise."
"You already do."
As she stood, heart still hammering, something pulled her gaze upward.
Second floor. Mirrored glass.
A tall silhouette stood near the window. Motionless.
Lexi squinted.
Dark suit. Familiar frame.
Ethan Blackwood.
Still there. Still watching.
Not saying a word. But seeing everything.
Lexi didn't move. Just stared back.
For a second, the world fell away.
No noise. No nerves. Just the quiet weight of something that hadn't even begun yet.
Then she turned and walked toward the street.
She was no longer the girl hoping for a chance.
She had one now.
And she was going to earn it — even if it meant facing the cold, unreadable man behind the glass every single day.