Chapter 3
The Interview
She was late.
Again .
Sweaty, slightly breathless, Maddison stormed into the Cream Towers lobby like a woman on the brink of either greatness or a public meltdown.
Until she saw them .
A row of perfect girls. All slim. All blonde. All staring straight ahead like Stepford Wives waiting for their husbands.
Maddison scoffed under her breath and slumped into the only free seat, adjusting her bra strap and pulling her curls back from her face.
“Jesus Christ, did they cast this off a perfume commercial?”
One of the blondes side eyed her. Maddison smiled, sharp and unbothered.
Let them look. I’m not here to blend in.
She checked her lipstick with her front camera, then checked her DMs.
HelmetDaddy_xo had posted a new reel.
Maddison grinned.
“I swear to God, he posts for me.”
Her phone buzzed.
Remy: “Good luck. Try not to kick this boss.”
Maddison smirked. “Can’t promise that.”
***
Lucas hated interviews.
He’d much rather be in his basement gym or reading legal contracts or literally doing crime than hiring someone new to sit outside his office. But HR insisted.
He stepped into the waiting room, holding the clipboard, scanning names.
Then he saw her.
Her.
Red hair. Thick thighs crossed like a queen. Tight outfit. Attitude dripping from her dark lined eyes. She wasn’t trying to impress anyone. She looked like she dared him not to be impressed.
And Lucas froze.
His brain, usually calm and ordered, did a full reboot.
She looked up and smiled like she knew every secret he’d ever buried.
“Er Miss Parker?” he managed.
The corner of her mouth twitched. “Call me Maddison.”
His heart did something. Or maybe it was fear.
***
His jawline was offensive.
That was Maddison’s first thought.
He was tall, in a fitted shirt that hugged his chest in a way that made her brain short circuit for a second. Hair slightly too long to be corporate, like he hadn’t bothered to conform. Sharp cheekbones. Tense posture. Blue eyes that watched like he was assessing threat levels.
Oh my God.
This was Helmet Daddy.
She knew that jaw.
She stood slowly, trying not to visibly gape, and followed him down the hall, her heels echoing like gunshots on the marble floor.
She leaned in with a smile. “Nice building. Cold though.”
Lucas gave a tight nod. “It's secure.”
“Bet it is.”
***
She smelled like something sweet and sinful.
Vanilla maybe. And lust.
He could feel her behind him as they walked. He couldn’t think. Could barely breathe. She hadn’t stopped smiling since she’d stood up, and now he wasn’t sure if this was the best or worst idea of his career.
They entered the interview room.
He gestured to the chair. “Please.”
She dropped into it like she owned the place.
“Do you always look this miserable?” she asked.
He blinked.
She winked.
***
This man was trying so hard not to look at her tits.
Helmet Daddy, my ass.
More like Nervous CEO Daddy.
She tilted her head. “So. What’s the job? Am I meant to fetch coffee or cover up murders?”
He coughed. Hard.
She bit back a grin.
Oh yeah. He’s definitely Helmet Daddy. This is gonna be fun.
***
This was bad. She was confident, gorgeous, and clearly smarter than she let on. And he was one dumb comment away from embarrassing himself.
Why does she smell like vanilla and danger?
***
He shuffled his notes. She didn’t care.
“So, how many bodies are in the basement?” she asked sweetly.
He stared at her, jaw tight.
She winked.
He looked like he might combust.
Lucas blinked. Once. Twice.
Her voice, her attitude, her presence, everything about her had short circuited his brain.
She was too much.
Too loud.
Too bold.
Too tightly dressed.
Too everything.
But also…
Exactly his type.
And worse: something about her felt familiar.
No. No way. That’s not
Booklover69 had never shown her face.
Don’t be insane.
Maddison smirked, leaning back in the chair like she already knew the answer.
Lucas fumbled his words. “Erm… yeah. You’re hired.”
She blinked, surprised for the first time.
“Are you serious?”
He nodded quickly, already standing. “Start tomorrow.”
Maddison stood slowly, catlike. “Okay then.”
Lucas cleared his throat, looking anywhere but her chest.
“Coffee. Black. In the mornings.”
She was halfway out the door when she turned back.
“I bite, by the way.”
Lucas dropped his pen.