Chapter 1 Fate's Collision

Sharon's POV

There was a lot of noise in the diner, including the sizzling sounds of a busy kitchen, plates clinking, and laughter. Despite the pain in my feet from running all day, I persisted. I kept reminding myself that every table I served brought me one step closer to making it through another month because rent wasn't going to pay itself.

"Pardon me! A piercing voice pierced the atmosphere.

A man in a dapper suit was staring at me from his booth when I turned around. In front of him sat his half-empty coffee cup, with a faint rise of steam. My stomach rumbled, but I forced a smile and walked toward him.

"Yes, sir? Is something wrong?"

"This," he said, gesturing to the cup as if it had offended him directly, "it is not coffee." It's mud. Black coffee should be bold and rich, not... this garbage."

"I'm so sorry about that," I said, trying to keep my tone polite. "Let me get you a fresh cup"

"Don't bother," he snapped, throwing a crumpled dollar bill on the table. "You should find another job because you clearly can't handle this one."

My cheeks heated, but I nodded, biting my tongue. He wasn't worth the struggle. I took the cup and began to head back to the counter when I heard my boss, Carl, call my name.

"Sharon! Can I see you in the back?"

Oh no. This couldn't be good. I glanced at the other tables, hoping someone might require anything to postpone whatever Carl needed, but there was no escape. With a deep breath, I followed him to the little, messy office at the rear.

Carl leaned on the desk; his arms folded. "Look, Sharon. I hate to do this, but we're letting you go."

"What?" My voice cracked. "Releasing me? Carl, I apologize for my occasional tardiness, but I've been putting in a lot of effort.

He sighed and remarked, "I know you have." However, we're laying off employees since the complaints are mounting. There is nothing I can do.

I wanted to protest, but I could see by the expression on his face that it was useless. As I left the office, picked up my suitcase, and left the diner for the last time, my shoulders drooped.

When I went outdoors, the chilly air slapped my face. My fingers clenched around my battered bag's straps. Dismissed. Once more.

The sounds of the city blended into a monotonous drone as I strolled along the street. My thoughts were racing. How might I proceed? Rent was due in a week, and I had nearly depleted my money.

I noticed a piece of paper as I passed a streetlight. The edges blowing in the wind, it was taped to the post.

"A secretary position at Donald Enterprises is open. No prior experience is necessary. Must be industrious and open to learning. Apply internally.

The phrases made my brows wrinkle as I gazed at them. Donald Enterprises? One of the largest businesses in the city was that one. The statement that "no prior experience required" seemed to have been designed specifically for me, even though I had heard that their CEO was brutal and scary.

I paused. Could I enter such a place? A female who had recently lost her job at a diner.

Then I remembered the eviction notice on my kitchen table and my empty wallet. The luxury of self-doubt was not available to me.

I inhaled deeply, tore the flier from the wall, and shoved it inside my backpack.

The following morning, I craned my neck to see the elegant architecture and enormous glass windows of the tall Donald Enterprises building. Sharp-suited people walked by me, hardly glancing at the girl in the old clothing.

"Just take a deep breath," I told myself.

The foyer was shining with marble flooring and sparkling lights as I entered. I walked to the reception desk, my shoes squeaking.

I said, trembling, "I'm here for the secretary position."

Despite raising an eyebrow, the receptionist gave me a clipboard with a form. "Complete this and wait over there."

I waited in the waiting room, typing my name and details with shaking hands. Other applicants were chatting around me, and I felt out of place because of their fancy attire and self-assured grins.

"Davis, Sharon?"

I looked up to see a tall woman with a clipboard. Her piercing eyes caused me to sit up straight.

"Follow me," she said.

I trailed following her, trying not to trip over my own feet. She showed me a modern office with a desk that was intimidatingly enormous and windows that extended from floor to ceiling.

Donald Grant sat behind that desk.

He had sharp features that could have been carved out of stone, dark hair that was neatly groomed, and a younger age than I had anticipated-possibly in his mid-thirties. I felt as though he could look straight through me as his piercing eyes met mine.

"You're here to work as a secretary?" he asked, his deep voice sending a shiver down my spine.

I was able to say, "Yes," while gripping my luggage.

"Take a seat."

He took up my application and glanced over it, and I obliged my pulse racing.

His tone was bland as he stated, "No experience in corporate settings." However, you have experience as a waiter. That indicates that you're accustomed to managing commotion and making demands on others.

"Y-Yes, sir," I said, astonished that he had seen it.

"Why do you want this job?" he said, leaning back in his chair and observing me."

I took a deep breath. "I... I require a new beginning. An opportunity to demonstrate my abilities.

He arched an eyebrow. "That's truthful. Most individuals would have responded with a prepared statement about their aspirations or enthusiasm for the business.

I blinked. Was that a compliment?

"You'll start tomorrow," he said, stopping in front of me as he moved around the desk, his presence overpowering. 9 a.m. sharp. Avoid being late.

My mouth fell open. "Hold on... I got the job?"

Something that wasn't quite a smile twitched his lips. "I need you more than anything else."

My head was whirling as I walked out of the building. I had entered with the expectation of being rejected and left with a job at one of the city's most influential corporations.

However, I couldn't get Donald Grant's comments out of my head.

"Just what I need."

By that, what did he mean?

I briefly pondered if I had just made the greatest choice of my life or the worst one.