Chapter 3 — First Impressions

Sophie

Sophie Hart clutched her pastel planner like a shield as she stood outside Lucas Hale’s office. Her heart thrummed in her chest—a steady rhythm of nerves and determination. The translucent glass pane beside the massive double doors offered a distorted glimpse of the man himself. He sat at his desk, head bent slightly as he studied a document, his every movement precise and deliberate. Even from here, Sophie could feel the weight of his presence, like standing at the edge of a storm.

She exhaled slowly, trying to steady herself. *This is just another meeting,* she told herself, though it felt anything but ordinary. Lucas Hale was intimidating—the kind of intimidating that came with power, control, and a reputation that preceded him. But this was her moment to prove that she could hold her own, to show that her warmth and optimism weren’t liabilities in a place like HaleTech.

“Ready for battle, sunshine?” Cynthia’s voice drifted over her shoulder, sardonic and smooth. The Chief of Staff’s sharp heels clicked against the pristine floor as she stopped beside Sophie, her dark suit impeccably tailored, her expression unreadable.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Sophie replied, forcing a smile. Her fingers tightened momentarily on her planner as she glanced at Cynthia, who raised a single brow in faint amusement.

“Good luck,” Cynthia said, her tone walking the fine line between dry humor and enigmatic detachment. “Mr. Hale is... particular about his time.”

“I’ll be efficient,” Sophie said brightly, masking the churn of anxiety in her gut. Failure wasn’t an option—not today, not in this role. She wasn’t just proving herself to Lucas Hale; she was proving herself, period. HaleTech was her opportunity to make a real difference, to show she belonged in this world of power, precision, and ambition.

Cynthia smirked faintly and gestured toward the doors. “Don’t keep him waiting.”

Squaring her shoulders, Sophie took a deep breath and pushed the doors open. The quiet whoosh of air that followed her entry felt like the final punctuation mark on her resolve.

Lucas’s office was exactly as she’d imagined—sleek, stark, and utterly intimidating. Floor-to-ceiling windows framed the bustling city skyline behind him, while the minimalist furniture and muted color scheme seemed to mirror Lucas’s personality: no-nonsense, efficient, and unflinchingly controlled. The faint scent of polished leather mingled with the muted hum of air conditioning, grounding Sophie in the moment.

Her heels clicked softly against the polished floor as she stepped forward. Lucas didn’t look up immediately, his gray eyes fixed on the paper in front of him. The silence stretched, heavy and deliberate, until Sophie cleared her throat.

“Mr. Hale,” she began, her voice steady despite the nerves clawing at her composure.

Lucas finally looked up. His gaze was sharp, assessing, and it pinned her in place like a spotlight. Up close, he was even more striking—a sharp jawline, perfectly styled dark hair, and those eyes that saw too much and gave too little. Sophie resisted the urge to shift under his scrutiny, though she felt as though he was cataloging every flaw in her presentation.

“You’re late,” he said bluntly, though the clock on the wall indicated otherwise.

“I’m exactly on time,” Sophie replied, her lips curving into a polite smile.

Lucas arched a brow, his expression cool. “Let’s not waste it, then. Speak.”

Sophie blinked, momentarily thrown by his abruptness. *No pressure, then.* She quickly recovered, flipping open her planner to the color-coded agenda she’d meticulously prepared. The bright pink leather seemed almost cartoonish against the monochrome backdrop of his office, but she held it like armor.

“I’ve outlined the key priorities for the week, including your upcoming meeting with the product development team and the investor luncheon on Thursday,” she began, her tone brisk but warm. “I’ve also included suggestions to streamline the internal review process for the new software launch, based on feedback from team leads.”

Lucas leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable. “Suggestions,” he repeated flatly.

“Yes,” she said, meeting his gaze head-on. “I noticed some bottlenecks during last week’s prep sessions. If we adjust the way reports are consolidated—”

“Miss Hart,” Lucas interrupted, his tone crisp as frost. “Your role is to assist, not to strategize.” He gestured lightly toward her planner. “Focus on the former.”

Sophie’s stomach tightened, but she refused to let the sting of his words show. “Of course. My intention was simply to—”

“Intentions are irrelevant if they deviate from your responsibilities,” Lucas cut in, his voice clinical and unyielding.

Her lips pressed into a thin line as her optimism flickered for an instant. She rallied, straightening her posture. This wasn’t the moment to retreat. “Understood, Mr. Hale. However, I believe part of being an effective assistant is anticipating needs before they’re explicitly stated.”

His eyes narrowed slightly, a flicker of something—curiosity, perhaps?—crossing his features before it disappeared.

“Noted,” he said tersely. “Is that all?”

Sophie hesitated for the briefest moment before deciding to push just a little further. “Actually, I wanted to suggest revisiting the use of the rooftop garden. It’s an incredible space, and with some effort, it could become—”

“The rooftop is irrelevant to the company’s goals,” Lucas interrupted, his tone final. “If that’s all, you’re dismissed.”

*Irrelevant?* Sophie’s polite smile faltered, replaced by a flicker of frustration. She closed her planner with deliberate care, her fingers brushing against the motivational sticker on the edge of the page: *“Keep going.”*

“Understood,” she said again, her voice calm but firm. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Hale.”

She turned and walked toward the door, each step measured, her grip on the planner tightening once more. *Don’t let him see you flinch.* But just as her fingers brushed the handle, his voice stopped her.

“Miss Hart.”

She turned back, her heart skipping slightly. Lucas studied her, his gaze unreadable yet piercing. For a moment, the stark office seemed to fade, leaving only the weight of his focus on her.

“Next time,” he said, “be concise.”

It wasn’t an apology, but it wasn’t quite a reprimand either. Sophie held his gaze, refusing to back down.

“Noted,” she replied, echoing his earlier dismissal.

As the doors hissed shut behind her, Sophie let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. Her cheeks burned with a mix of irritation and determination. Lucas Hale was as infuriating as he was intriguing, but she wasn’t about to let his frosty demeanor intimidate her.

Cynthia’s voice broke into her thoughts as she rounded the corner. “Still standing, I see. Impressive.”

Sophie gave her a small, wry smile. “It’ll take more than that to scare me off.”

Cynthia chuckled, a low, amused sound. “You might be the first. Good luck, sunshine.”

The nickname, though clearly meant to be patronizing, made Sophie grin to herself. Maybe Lucas Hale had built walls so high no one dared approach, but Sophie wasn’t one to shy away from a challenge.

She glanced down at her planner as she reached her desk, her thumb brushing the edge of another affirmation: *“You are enough.”* The bright pink leather stood out vividly against the clinical tones of the office. It was her own little beacon of warmth in the cold, sterile world of HaleTech.

As she sank into her chair, she resolved to find a way through to him—not just for herself, but for the company she saw so much potential in. Even the coldest storms had their breaks, and Sophie Hart wasn’t about to let HaleTech remain buried in ice.