Chapter 2 First Impressions

Monday came faster than Noah expected.

The subway was packed, his coffee order was wrong, and he arrived at Voss Technologies sweating through his too-tight shirt and slightly scuffed shoes. But he was early-again-which he figured couldn't hurt.

The receptionist looked up as he walked in, her expression unreadable. "You're fifteen minutes ahead of schedule."

"I like to be prepared," Noah said, trying to sound like a professional and not someone barely holding it together.

She led him down the now-familiar hallway toward the executive office. Unlike last week, the building buzzed with activity-assistants on calls, analysts glued to their screens, and glass-walled meeting rooms filled with intimidating-looking people in better clothes than he'd ever owned.

When she opened the office door, Ethan Voss was already seated at his desk, tapping away at a laptop with the kind of intensity Noah reserved for finals week.

"You're early," Ethan said without looking up.

"I like to make a good impression."

Ethan didn't respond. Just kept typing.

Noah stood awkwardly for a few seconds before setting his bag down on the empty desk to the right. It was sleek, modern, and terrifyingly sterile.

"Your login credentials are in the folder on your desktop," Ethan said after a pause. "You'll find my calendar, call schedule, and this week's priorities. Do not change anything without my approval."

"Got it," Noah said, sitting down and opening the laptop. The machine booted up instantly-of course-and within moments he was staring at Ethan's week, packed end-to-end with meetings, negotiations, and travel.

"I also need a revised presentation deck for the Q2 strategy meeting tomorrow," Ethan added. "The slides are in last Thursday's email thread. You'll find my notes in the margins."

"I haven't-"

"Figure it out," Ethan said sharply.

Noah blinked but nodded. "Okay."

For the next three hours, he barely looked up. The presentation alone was a mess-charts misaligned, key data missing, the formatting clearly done by someone who didn't care about aesthetics or logic. Noah reworked the layout, color-coded the key metrics, and added clarifying footnotes based on Ethan's notes, which were written in the most brutal, efficient shorthand he'd ever seen.

At one point, Ethan rose from his desk, grabbed his phone, and walked into the adjacent conference room, the glass door hissing shut behind him. Noah caught flashes of his expression-cool, controlled, with a tight jaw and clipped words. Even angry, he was painfully attractive, in that arrogant, perfect-suit, CEO-of-a-billion-dollar-company way.

Noah forced himself to focus on the task at hand. Crushing on his boss was not only cliché-it was dangerous. Ethan had been clear about boundaries. Besides, he probably didn't even-

"You changed the slide colors."

Noah flinched. Ethan was back, leaning over his desk. Close. Too close.

"Yeah," Noah said, tapping the touchpad. "The original palette had almost no contrast. Not great for visibility. Also, your chart margins were bleeding off the edge."

Ethan raised an eyebrow. "You're not shy about feedback."

"You told me not to waste your time," Noah replied, meeting his gaze. "So I didn't."

There was a long pause.

"I'll review it before the board meeting," Ethan finally said, stepping back. "You'll be in the room. Sit quietly, take notes. Do not speak unless I ask you something directly."

"Noted," Noah said.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of emails, briefings, and three back-to-back calls with business partners across three different time zones. Noah answered phones, scheduled meetings, and even managed to fix an executive lunch delivery that got rerouted to Brooklyn by mistake.

By 6:00 p.m., the office had emptied out. The lights dimmed slightly, and the skyline outside glowed as the sun dipped beneath the horizon.

Ethan was still at his desk, looking like he'd barely moved.

Noah stood, stretching his stiff legs. "Do you ever stop working?"

Ethan glanced up, deadpan. "Do you?"

Noah chuckled softly. "Touché."

"I don't keep hours," Ethan said. "I keep results."

"Sounds lonely."

Ethan tilted his head. "What makes you think I care about lonely?"

Noah hesitated. "I didn't say you did. Just... doesn't sound sustainable."

Ethan rose then, slow and deliberate, moving toward the window with his hands in his pockets.

"This company didn't build itself," he said. "Sacrifice is part of the deal."

Noah joined him, standing a few feet away. "Yeah, but what's the point of building something great if you're too burned out to enjoy it?"

Ethan turned, his eyes catching the reflection of city lights. "That's a very poetic sentiment, Mr. Reyes. But not all of us have the luxury of idealism."

"I'm just saying..." Noah shrugged. "Maybe greatness doesn't have to mean misery."

Ethan studied him again, like he couldn't decide if he was impressed or annoyed.

"Go home," he said at last. "You did well today."

Noah blinked. "That's... high praise, coming from you."

"Don't let it go to your head," Ethan said, already walking back to his desk.

Noah grabbed his bag and headed for the door, but paused before leaving.

"Thanks for the shot," he said, voice softer now. "I know I'm not exactly your usual."

Ethan didn't look up, but something in his tone shifted.

"You'll either rise to the challenge," he said quietly, "or you'll break like the others."

Noah nodded once. "Guess we'll see."

And with that, he left-his heart pounding faster than it had any right to.