Clashing Hearts (Haven Crossroads #1)

Chapter 1 Savannah

SAVANNAH

Coffee dribbles down the side of my hand, but it isn’t a code red. Not even a code orange. Luckily, I’ve never spilled an entire cup all over myself, though I probably just jinxed it. I adjust the lid on my to-go cup. My usual, oat milk cappuccino, and I grab a napkin to wipe my hands.

“What’s on the docket today?” Elodie asks as we head to the elevators. We fall into step in our usual rhythm, side by side. We grew up together on Everhope Road and somehow landed at the same logistics company in Chicago.

“The usual. Meeting planning, checking slides. At least the workload is light, so no late nights,” I say, taking a sip, with the patter of my low heels in the background; I paired them with a flowy dark green dress today.

I don’t take for granted that I’m paid more than the average 25-year-old assistant. But Haven Crossroads treats its employees well.

Almost well.

The elevator doors open, and a crying Jill quickly exits, mascara running down her face. She’s young, but I thought she was responsible and handling her role as assistant to the CEO well. She glances at us, then sobs and continues to the exit, and I’m sure that’s the last we’ve seen of her.

Elodie and I wince at one another when we enter the elevator.

“For fuck’s sake, that’s assistant number six in the span of six weeks,” she comments as she pulls her caramel-colored hair to the side.

“My two-year-old daughter has tantrums less often than that.” That’s not a fair comparison, as her daughter, Lola, is a little angel, which is lucky, as Elodie is also a single mom handling so much on her plate.

I jab the button for the seventeenth floor. “Julian’s really been in a mood lately.”

Julian Haven is anything but a haven. His name is the biggest con, to be honest. He isn’t the easiest to work with.

He’s edgy, demanding, and it’s his way only and nobody else’s.

Despite being younger than your average CEO, he’s still ten years older than me.

The expensive suits accompanying his scowl sometimes cause me to do a double-take and make my thoughts drift for a mere second.

Maybe it’s his hair that matches his brown eyes that slice through people that completes his appeal.

Some say his eyes are mesmerizing, and I say they lure you into the gates of hell—a hell of his own making.

“I’ve never seen anything like it. He goes through assistants faster than a revolving door.”

I give her a pointed look. “Very true.” My smile turns taunting. Elodie rolls her eyes. “You owe me.”

Because we put wagers on how long the new assistants last. This time, I bet four days, and I was oh-so right.

Elodie sighs. “You drive a hard bet, Savannah.”

“I know.”

Elodie smiles at me as the doors open on the floor with the finance department.

One floor up is me. I’m so grateful that I work with Charles, our Chief of Operations.

He’s older, with grandkids, and it brings out a softer side in him, making him a breeze to work with.

He also respects my ideas and knows that I envision working my way up if the opportunity arises.

Outside of the office, I’m working on my master’s in business, and he is a big supporter of that.

I’m almost done, too. One more paper to go.

Arriving at my desk, I set my coffee down and slip off my winter coat because Chicago is giving us winter in March.

The door to Charles’s office is ajar, and I hear him on a call.

It gives me my usual five minutes to set up my desk for the morning and double-check the calendar and the notes I made for the upcoming day.

A few minutes later, after tidying my desk and finishing my coffee, I toss the empty cup into the trash.

I stand, smooth my dress, gather my laptop, and plaster a smile on as I inhale a deep, excited breath, ready for the hours ahead.

I love mornings and new days. It brings new possibilities.

Charles greets me with a cheery hello when I enter. He’s always in a good mood, and if he isn’t, then he never directs it at me. He’s in his typical polo shirt, which takes the focus off his hair, which is more gray than dark these days.

“Good morning. Have you eaten? Or do I need to get you a bagel from the break room?”

His lips twist. “Keeping me in line. Does my wife phone you at ten or something?”

I go silent and quirk my lips out because she actually does. “I mean, blood sugar levels and all. There’s research on that, should you feel inclined to read it.”

He grins to himself at my reply. “Have a seat, Savannah.” I take my usual seat across from his glass desk, the cloudy Chicago skyline behind him, and open my laptop.

“That won’t be needed today.” The way he says it is different. Serious. Firm.

Oh… Strange.

He must see the bewilderment etched on my face.

“Relax, I’m not going to fire you,” he assures me as he leans back in his chair.

My eyes widen. “Didn’t know I was on the chopping block.”

Charles chuckles under his breath. “You’re not. I’m the one with news.”

Phew.

“What might that be?”

“As you know, my schedule has been lighter. More time for golf, the grandkids, the things in life that are not in the office. I’ve also had more meetings with Julian.

I’m not getting any younger. I’ve invested wisely through the years and made some great stock choices, which means I can retire early. ”

My stomach sinks because I know where our conversation is going. He’s been subtly dropping hints about his future over recent months, and deep down, I anticipated this happening at some point.

“I’m retiring,” he says at last.

I force a smile, wanting to be happy for him. "That’s... wonderful."

Selfishly, I can’t help but wonder what this means for me.

His head lolls to the side gently, and he examines me. “Say that with a little more conviction, will ya?” he jokes.

I straighten my posture. “Sorry. I’m not surprised, it’s merely that I thought it would be another year, perhaps.”

He shrugs. “I’m ready. I have a house in Hilton Head to enjoy when I’m not here in Illinois.”

I nod, listening, unsure what to say. My intuition told me this moment would come.

After a stiff silence, he grins. “Wondering what’ll happen to your role?”

A long exhale leaves me, and I’m thankful he can read my mind and bring it up. “Yes,” I admit.

He claps, eyes shining. “You’re one of the best—bright, high-energy, tough. You keep me moving. You’re essential. That’s why I’m promoting you.”

Suddenly, my mood perks up. My drooping shoulders straighten; my neck elongates. I ask, "Really?"

“Yep. My role as COO is to ensure we run a tight ship, including staff. I need to be confident that whatever we do will improve and ensure the strategy is met. Day-to-day operations need to run smoothly. I see a significant risk if I don’t act, as we urgently need to fill a role.

Should have thought of this solution sooner, since it’s so obvious.

Not many people can handle him, but I know you can. ”

No. Oh no. Why does worry now hit me?

“Assistant to the CEO is perfect for you, and you will do great.”

My face sours. I force composure. "Julian? You want me to be his assistant?"

Charles’s face falls with understanding, and he holds his hands up to calm me.

“I’m aware that he may not have the… best record with assistants.

All the more reason I need to be assured that he has someone who won’t quit, especially during the transition of somebody new in my role.

” I’m not impressed with this turn of events, and it’s apparent.

“You’re great with challenges, and you’re the only one I can think of to handle the job.

You always update your in-case-of-emergency handover sheet, so I can easily get a temp in to fill your current role.

Julian? Well, he needs someone as soon as possible.

Someone who can jump in. He needs organization more than me, as I’m going to slowly transition out with fewer days in the office. ”

Professional. Remain professional. “Uh…” That’s all I can croak out.

His face turns to stone, so unlike Charles. “It means a pay raise,” he says bluntly.

Ah, he’s desperate.

It’s tempting. Or miserable. "Trying to sweeten the deal for dealing with Satan?" I joke. With Charles, I can be direct.

He lets go of the flattery. His face relaxes.

"The company will cover all tuition loans for your master's degree if you stay with us, and you will be debt-free.

Of course, should you quit within a certain amount of time, then you would need to pay it back.

But you are not a quitter," he says, expression flat.

“W-What?” I stammer. It’s a profound offer, with major implications for my financial future.

“You’re very desperate, it seems. That’s a big offer.

” It’s more than immense. I managed to get a scholarship, but it didn’t cover everything, and as much as I’m paid well here, paying the remaining tuition does make me check my savings more often than I would like.

He snaps his fingers. “It is. But it makes sense, too. Your degree fits with your work here. Plus, I hope this emphasizes this big change. Your contract states that we can move you to a different role, provided your salary and benefits remain unchanged. You will now be getting paid more, a degree paid for as long as you don’t quit, and the experience of a lifetime. I know you can’t run from that.”

“Well, your bribery game is strong,” I deadpan.

“I’ve made up my mind.”

My jaw drops slightly. “So, I’m his new assistant?”

“Yep.” He shuffles papers, eyes a drawer, as casual as someone bringing birthday cake to the staff room. “He’s simply misunderstood. You’ll be fine.” I just blink at him. He looks up. “You two know each other. You’ve been in plenty of meetings with him.”

That is probably one of the problems in this new situation.

I’ve witnessed the way he pretends to fix his expensive cufflinks right after he turns the conversation in his favor without giving anyone a mere glance, including me.

Despite my tenure of two years here, he has rarely had to speak to me in relation to work.

The few times his eyes have set on me, they felt challenging, dangerous even.

I’ve always had a tiny piece of curiosity about what he was thinking about on the rare occasion when he decided I should grace his vision.

The workday will be like talking to a wall. I’m sure his conversations outside of work probably wouldn’t be thrilling, either. More straight to the point and an undressed kind of soul… Why did that even come to mind?

Get it together, Savannah.

Charles seems overly confident right now about the news he just delivered.

I frown in defeat. “Of course. I’ll miss being your PA, but better sooner than later to change positions before you leave.”

He sticks his thumb into the air. “Exactly. That’s the mindset you should have.

But really, you are the one I trust, and we need to get someone in now to help Julian.

He’ll drown, otherwise. The man is pure strategy and only measures outcomes in terms of 100% success.

The problem is that he needs someone to keep him in check and ensure all departments use his time wisely.

Schedules, reviewing presentations, all that stuff. ”

“I understand.”

“Good.” He studies me for a few ticks with his head tipping to the side, studying me, and he softens after a deep breath.

“You have wit, and more importantly, backbone. I doubt you will be scared away like the others. Not to mention, it will be a great experience for your resume. People would envy you. I want to leave comfortably, believing that Julian has calmed and has a stable workday that doesn’t involve a lack of an assistant. ”

Simply, I nod my head in agreement and attempt to smile. He isn’t wrong about all those things, and I don’t want to let him down. Challenges are part of professional development, right?

Still, when I leave his office with my shoulders sagging, I dread what my future employment looks like.

Dropping into my desk chair, I reach for my jar filled with fruit snack gummies. I don’t care if it’s the food choice of a kindergartener; they’re good, and the box says they're made with real fruit juice. I rip open the little packet and throw a purple grape-flavored gummy into my mouth.

I do my best to let go of the feelings of my career demise, because nobody survives him.

But in that moment, it takes over. My confidence.

I have zero tolerance for arrogance, and there was even that time we got stuck in an elevator together for a minute. I didn’t fawn over his presence as other women do, even if it was a tiny bit tempting. That feeling is always ruined, anyhow, when he does something borderline despicable.

I will focus forward, remain calm with a smile the sun would be jealous of, and take no prisoners on my insistence that I will survive him. That backbone that Charles has seen is very true.

I accept this experiment, and it isn’t because my student debt will be paid off.

I’m doing this because I’m not a quitter.

Instead, I’ll challenge him.

I won’t falter.