Chapter 1 — Collision Course
Amelia
The elevator doors were about to close when Amelia Bennett dashed into the sleek lobby of Caldwell Tech’s headquarters, her heels clicking an erratic rhythm against the polished marble floor. Her oversized tote bag bounced against her side, and a steaming to-go coffee cup wobbled precariously in her hand. She was a whirlwind of pastel blazers and floral prints amidst the monochrome sea of suits that populated the lobby.
“Hold the elevator, please!” she called out, her voice pitched with a mix of desperation and hope.
A hand shot out, halting the sleek metal doors just in time. Amelia squeezed through the gap, her bag brushing against the side panel with a muted thunk. “Thank you so much!” she gasped, her smile bright and apologetic as she turned to face her rescuer.
Her gratitude froze mid-expression. Standing before her was a man who looked as though he’d just stepped out of a high-stakes legal drama. Tall, broad-shouldered, and impeccably groomed, he exuded an air of unapproachable authority. His piercing blue eyes met hers, cool and assessing, and his sharp jawline could have been carved from the very marble she’d just sprinted across. He raised a single brow, his expression more annoyed than accommodating.
“Cutting it close this morning?” he asked, his voice low and clipped, each word weighed and measured.
Amelia swallowed hard, suddenly hyper-aware of the slight wrinkle in her blouse from the subway ride. “Oh, you have no idea,” she replied, her nervous laugh bubbling up unbidden. “First-day jitters, New York traffic, and, of course, my eternal optimism that I could grab coffee and still make it on time. Spoiler alert: optimism doesn’t always cooperate.”
The elevator jolted slightly, beginning its ascent. The abrupt movement tipped the balance of Amelia’s coffee cup. Her eyes widened in horror as a dark, steaming streak arced through the air and landed squarely on the man’s pristine gray suit.
“Oh my gosh! I am so, so sorry!” Amelia exclaimed, her face erupting into a deep crimson. She fumbled in her bag for tissues, her fingers trembling. “I—I wasn’t paying attention, and it just—oh no. Your suit. Your very expensive suit.”
The man’s jaw tightened, and he inhaled slowly through his nose, his restraint palpable. His piercing gaze flicked to hers, sharp and controlled. For a moment, something flickered in his expression—an almost imperceptible sigh, as though he were accustomed to managing chaos but never quite this kind. “Next time,” he said evenly, brushing at the stain with a deliberate motion, “optimism might serve you better without the coffee.”
Amelia winced, thrusting a crumpled tissue in his direction. “Please, let me help. Or dry-cleaning! I’ll pay for the dry-cleaning. Or replace the suit if it’s ruined. Oh gosh, this is not the impression I wanted to make today.”
He accepted the tissue but didn’t use it, merely folding it between his fingers with mechanical precision. “Perhaps,” he said, his tone cool but not unkind, “you should focus on making it to your first day without any further... incidents.”
Amelia’s stomach sank. Her fingers instinctively brushed the sunflower pendant around her neck, the familiar touch grounding her in the moment. “Right. Yes. Good call. I’ll just... stand very still and avoid all liquids from now on.”
The elevator pinged softly, announcing their arrival on the 20th floor. The man stepped out first, his strides confident and unhurried, leaving Amelia clutching her empty coffee cup and the sinking realization that she might have just ruined her first day before it even began.
As she stepped into the bright, bustling open-concept office floor, Amelia took a moment to collect herself. The space was sleek and modern—rows of desks stretched in neat lines, and floor-to-ceiling windows bathed everything in natural light. Yet, there was a coldness to the environment, reflected in the sharp angles of the furniture and the faint hum of automated systems. Her heels clicked softly against the polished concrete as she walked, her gaze sweeping over the unadorned desks and the partitioned seating that seemed to reinforce the hierarchy. There were no photos, no personal touches—just a sea of muted grays and whites, punctuated only by the occasional glow of a monitor.
Amidst the sterile efficiency, a faint floral scent wafted through the air vents, a surprising contrast that momentarily eased her nerves. Maybe this place wasn’t entirely devoid of warmth after all.
“Amelia Bennett?” a brisk voice called out, pulling her attention toward a woman with cropped blond hair and a sharp navy suit. She stood near a glass-walled conference room, clipboard in hand.
“That’s me!” Amelia replied, quickly plastering on her best “I’m prepared and professional” smile. She extended her hand, hoping her earlier chaos wasn’t written all over her face.
The woman shook her hand firmly. “Karen, head of PR. Welcome aboard. We’re just about to start the morning briefing, so grab a seat. And word of advice—try to keep up. Mr. Caldwell doesn’t have much patience for delays.”
Amelia nodded, her smile faltering slightly. She slid into an empty chair near the back of the conference room just as Karen launched into a rundown of current projects. The room buzzed with quiet efficiency, every team member focused and intent. Amelia tried to follow along, but her mind kept drifting back to the man in the elevator. His icy glare, his perfectly arched brow of disapproval—it all replayed in her head like a mortifying highlight reel. Her parents’ voices echoed faintly in her mind: First impressions matter, Lia. Just stay calm and show them what you’ve got.
Right. Calm. Totally calm.
Her fingers brushed against her sunflower pendant again. “Grow through what you go through,” she reminded herself silently, drawing a deep breath.
“And as part of our new initiative to improve the company’s image, you’ll be working closely with—” Karen was saying when the glass door swung open.
In strode the man himself, his expression locked in its default setting of composed authority. He had changed into a fresh suit, equally impeccable, and his sharp gaze swept the room before landing on Amelia. For the briefest moment, something flickered in his expression—recognition, perhaps, or amusement, or maybe just lingering annoyance. Whatever it was, it vanished as quickly as it appeared.
“Ethan Caldwell,” Karen said, gesturing toward him. “Our CEO.”
Amelia’s stomach plummeted. Of course, he was the CEO. Her mind raced, the flood of panic threatening to drown her resolve. This was the man whose suit she had ruined. The man who had just witnessed her perfectly chaotic entrance into his company.
Ethan’s expression didn’t change as he addressed the room. “Good morning. Let’s keep this brief. I have a full schedule.”
Amelia straightened in her seat, clutching the edge of the table for support. She’d survived worse first impressions. She wasn’t going to let one spilled coffee incident define her. She was here to prove herself—to show them, and him, that she belonged.
As Ethan outlined the company’s goals for the quarter, his voice calm and commanding, Amelia felt her resolve harden. Her fingers brushed her pendant again, the engraved words steadying her. She could do this. She had to.
But as Ethan’s gaze flicked to hers once more, his expression unreadable, Amelia couldn’t shake the feeling that this was only the beginning of a very long, very complicated dynamic.
