Chapter 1: Hired by My Ex

That night.

A siren wailed in the distance, cutting through the sticky summer air. I sobbed so hard the sound bounced off my apartment walls, until Mrs. Henderson from next door shuffled over in her bunny slippers, pounding on my door like the building was on fire, her voice all frazzled and anxious: “Savannah, honey, are you alright in there? Need me to call someone?”

I could barely choke out the words between hiccuping sobs: “Please help me.” My own voice came out so tiny—so desperate, I barely recognized it. It trailed off, swallowed by the silence.

Damn this whole older-woman, younger-guy mess—damn it. Why’d I have to fall for the freshman with the killer smile and those wild, impossible dreams?

Then, five years later, there he was—sitting across from me in a suit and tie, sharp as a Wall Street broker, asking if I was willing to play by the unspoken rules of the office. He looked like he belonged on the cover of Forbes, not across from the girl who used to sew up his ripped jeans.

Damn this ex-boyfriend. Couldn’t he have gone to LA or something?

"Ms. Carter, would you be willing to climb the ladder by accepting certain, uh, expectations around here?" The words hung in the air, sharp as a paper cut.

Julian Whitaker, gold-rimmed glasses perched on his nose, asked me this with a straight face, like we were talking about quarterly reports. Not my dignity. Not my life.

He looked so calm, like he was just asking about my GPA, not about trading away my soul. The room was ice-cold, and his words only made it colder. I could feel the chill seeping into my bones.

This was the first time we’d seen each other since the breakup, and the air between us was thick—thick with everything we never said. It pressed against my chest, heavy as a storm about to break.

I’d been sending out resumes everywhere—Indeed, LinkedIn, you name it. Then, out of nowhere, I got an interview invite from ELITE, one of the top three fashion magazines in the country. My heart nearly leapt out of my chest when I saw the email.

As a woman pushing thirty, I wasn’t about to mess this up. I even bought a new blazer for the occasion, hoping it would bring me luck, or at least make me look like I belonged.

But the second I walked into the conference room, I knew I was toast. The tension in the room snapped tight. You could practically hear it.

Because sitting dead center among the interviewers was my ex-boyfriend. I stopped breathing for a second. Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, he had to be in mine.

And our breakup three years ago had been a total disaster—a scorched-earth, take-no-prisoners kind of ending. No survivors. Not even a scrap of friendship left behind.

As soon as Julian finished talking, every head swiveled toward me. I felt like a bug under a microscope, every eye waiting for me to squirm. I could almost feel the heat of their stares burning through my jacket.

It felt like being put on a spit over a fire—humiliating. No way to hide it. My palms were sweating so bad I thought I’d leave marks on the table.

Back in college, he was young and wild, proud and ambitious. And I was no different. We were gasoline and matches. Great—until the inevitable explosion.

So when we broke up, we both said the cruelest things we could think of. Torched the bridge behind us. Made sure there was nothing left to cross back over. Burned every possible way home.

Back to reality, I met his cold gaze and forced myself to sound tough: "If it’s you, I might have to think about it." My voice didn’t even shake—small miracles. I could barely believe it held steady.

He let out a short, scornful laugh. It was sharp, rising at the end, and I wanted to crawl under the table. That laugh said, "Nice try, Savannah."

Why’d you have to run your mouth? Just go home, crawl under your covers, you idiot. I could practically hear myself berating me. Regret already pooling in my stomach.

"Congratulations, Ms. Carter. You’re hired."

What? Did I just hear that right? My brain scrambled to catch up.

"Our company appreciates people who can resist temptation." His voice was smooth as silk, but his eyes gave nothing away. I couldn’t read a thing on his face.

I was stunned. So were the dozens of others in the conference room. Silence crashed down. You could’ve heard a pin drop.

Wait a second… is this how big companies do things now? Is this some kind of sick test? I almost wanted to laugh, but couldn’t.

"So, you got into ELITE? The fashion giant you dreamed of joining in college?"

"It’s a little crazy, but… yeah, I did." Honestly, I could barely believe it myself. My hands were still shaking as I told Mariah.

I was happily dragging my best friend, Mariah, around the mall, ready to buy a new outfit to celebrate. The air was thick with that new-mall smell—pretzels, perfume, and the buzz of something new waiting to happen.

Mariah grinned, raising her eyebrows at me. "Be honest, does Julian still have feelings for you?" She nudged me with her elbow, a sly smile spreading across her face.

"Come on, everyone was jealous of you two back then, and you still couldn’t make it past graduation." She gave me that look—the one that says, Girl, spill. I could feel her eyes drilling into me, waiting for a confession.

I pressed my lips together and didn’t answer. Some things are better left unsaid, at least for now. I kept my secrets behind a tight smile.

"Why not take this chance to get back together?" Mariah’s voice was teasing, but there was a real question underneath, lingering in the air.

Get back together?

I couldn’t help but think back to that awkward reunion at the interview. The way he looked at me—cool, unreadable, but underneath, something flickered. A flash of something I almost recognized.

He was all suited up, gold-rimmed glasses, looking at me so seriously. He looked older, more put-together, but the way he watched me hadn’t changed. Not really.

My face felt hot. The kind of hot that has nothing to do with the weather. It was all nerves, all memories.

My cheeks burned—not just from embarrassment. Heat crawled up my neck.

"Hey! Look, isn’t that Julian?!" Mariah’s voice cut through my thoughts, sharp and excited, snapping me back to reality.

Following Mariah’s finger, I saw Julian sitting on a sofa in a women’s boutique, talking on the phone, his face turned slightly to the side. The store was all glass and gold fixtures, the kind of place I’d only ever window-shopped, never actually set foot in.

He was wearing light-colored casual clothes, looking softer than last time. The sharpness was gone, replaced by something almost gentle—a kind of vulnerability I hadn’t seen before.

His lips parted slightly, expression focused and charming. He looked like he belonged there—effortlessly cool. My heart did a weird little flip.

I instinctively stopped, wanting to avoid him. "Mariah, let’s go check out the shops downstairs!" My voice came out a little too high, a little too desperate. I felt the panic rising.

"No way, this is a perfect chance! Let’s go thank him—let fate do its thing!" Mariah’s eyes sparkled with mischief, her grip tightening on my arm. I could see she wasn’t taking no for an answer.

Before I could protest, Mariah dragged me toward the store. I tried to dig my heels in, but she was determined, all momentum and stubborn hope.

But as soon as we reached the entrance, we saw a pretty girl in a pale yellow dress bounce over to him. Julian stood up and looked at her with such gentle eyes, like she was the love of his life. My heart sank, dropping straight to my shoes.

The crystal chandelier above showered her in light. She practically glowed, like she belonged in a magazine spread. I felt invisible.

The glow blurred my vision, making my eyes sting. I blinked hard, trying to keep it together. The world wobbled, just a little.

I thought of our past. The memories hit me in a rush—good, bad, and everything in between. All of it crashing down at once.

He was the handsome, wealthy campus heartthrob. I was just another girl busting my butt for a scholarship. Before I met him, I never imagined I’d end up with such a good-looking boyfriend. He was out of my league, and everyone knew it.

After we got together, he was the famous model boyfriend—always giving gifts, always there for me. We were voted campus couple of the year. People whispered about us in the dining hall, half envy, half disbelief.

In all the candid photos on the campus confession wall—a kind of social media corkboard where people posted anonymous crushes—his eyes were always following me, just like now—burning and intense, making my heart race. It was like he only had eyes for me, even in a crowd.

It always felt like a dream, that a prince could really fall for Cinderella. I kept waiting to wake up. It was too good to last.

But reality is, even princes and Cinderellas get knocked around by life once they’re out in the real world. Happily ever after doesn’t come with a guarantee.

After I graduated, work got busy and Tara showed up, and misunderstandings piled up between us. The fairy tale started to unravel, thread by thread. Each day, another piece fell away.

Out of the ivory tower, his clinginess and neediness became a burden. My confidence and creativity took a hit at work. Real problems flooded in—family, status, money, my mom’s illness—one thing after another, until it all crushed me. I felt like I was drowning. Couldn’t come up for air. Couldn’t breathe.

In the end, I broke up with him. Our last fight was brutal—he cried until he couldn’t breathe, eyes red as he stared at me: "Savannah Carter, you never loved me. This is all a joke. Our two years together were a joke!" The words still echoed, raw and jagged.

"You don’t even know what love is!" The words cut deep, both ways. I flinched, even now.

I took a deep breath and glanced at the two smiling faces reflected in the glass. They looked so carefree, so untouched by all the crap I’d been through. Like they lived in a different world.

That girl was wearing the dress from this month’s ELITE magazine cover. I instinctively tried to hide my years-old outfit with my purse, forcing myself to stay calm as I pulled Mariah away. My confidence shrank two sizes in that moment. I felt small.

"We’re just leaving? Shouldn’t we at least say hi?" Mariah’s voice was soft, almost disappointed. I felt her disappointment echo in my chest.

"Let’s go, Mariah. No one’s going to wait for you forever." I said it more for myself than for her. Time moves on, whether you’re ready or not. The words tasted bittersweet.