1. Sparks Fly
Chapter one
Sparks Fly
E llie
Three months in New York, and I’ve become a professional coffee-fetcher. It’s not exactly the glamorous marketing career I imagined, but it’s paying the bills. Barely. I glance down at the to-go cups, the name Mr. Reed scribbled on the side in that fancy script the barista insists on using.
“Order’s ready, hon,” the barista calls, smiling at me.
I return the smile, grabbing the two cups and balancing them on the tray. “Thanks, Stacy.”
Stacy gives me a thumbs up, then goes back to dealing with the early morning rush. It’s always packed in here. Something about New Yorkers and their need for caffeine at the crack of dawn. I don’t get it. I mean, I get coffee , but the sheer desperation? It’s like their lives depend on it.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I juggle the tray and my purse to pull it out.
“Hey, Jen,” I answer, pinning the phone between my shoulder and ear as I push through the revolving door of the café.
“Ellie!” Jenna’s voice comes through, chipper as ever. “Just opened up the bakery! The ovens are going, and the smell... girl, you would die. I’m talking chocolate croissants fresh out of the oven. You’d be drooling.”
“Stop,” I groan, weaving through pedestrians on the sidewalk. “I just grabbed coffee. You can’t hit me with fresh pastries like that.”
“Sorry, not sorry,” she laughs. “Seriously though, wish you were here.”
I stop at the curb, waiting for the light to change. “Me too. How’s everything in Philly?”
“Busy, but good. You know how it is. Small town, everyone’s nosy, and I have to smile through it. But it’s nice to have something that’s ours.”
I glance up at the towering buildings around me. Ours. That’s the bakery back home, and this—this massive, corporate maze—is my life now. “I’ll try to visit soon, but I’m swamped. Late nights, early mornings, you know the drill.”
Jenna hums in understanding. “Well, you’re a big New York City woman now. I’m not surprised. Just don’t forget to sleep occasionally, okay? And, I dunno, date?”
I snort. “Yeah, right. With all my spare time?”
“You’re hopeless,” Jenna teases. “But I’ll let you get back to work before you get fired for being late. Love you!”
“Love you too,” I say, ending the call as I speed up my pace.
I make it to the towering glass building, nodding at the receptionist as I rush to the elevators. I still get a little jolt of excitement when I swipe my keycard at the security gate. Blackwood Enterprises, baby. I’m actually working here. But holy hell, this company is way bigger than I imagined. Real estate and luxury properties, sure—that’s what I signed up for. But then there’s the tech division, and the hotels, and the AI innovations? Seriously? They have their hands in every pie. And here I am, running for Mr. Reed’s coffee like some intern.
The elevator doors slide open, and I step out onto the twelfth floor. Marketing.
I glance at my watch. Not late. Thank God. I make a beeline for my desk, but of course, the minute I set the coffee tray down, I see it. The stack of papers, thick as a brick, waiting for me. “Jesus,” I mutter under my breath.
And that’s when I hear it. Him. “Miss Sanders, you’ve got my coffee, I assume?”
I turn to see Mr. Jameson Reed standing at his office door, his gaze flicking from the tray to me, lingering a little too long on my legs. I tug my skirt down, shifting awkwardly. “Yes, Mr. Reed. Your coffee’s right here.”
He gives me this half-smile, the kind that’s supposed to be charming but mostly makes my skin crawl. He’s older, mid-fifties maybe, with salt-and-pepper hair slicked back like some Wall Street wannabe. The suit is always perfectly tailored, but his eyes—God, his eyes never look where they should. Always wandering. Always lingering.
“You’ll want to go over those documents before lunch,” he says, jerking his head toward the mountain of papers on my desk. “We need everything corporate-ready by tomorrow.”
“Of course, Mr. Reed,” I say, forcing a smile as I grab the tray and hand him his coffee. I just want to get this over with.
“Oh, and Miss Sanders?” He steps closer, dropping his voice like he’s about to share some deep, dark secret. “I’ll need to speak with you at noon. I have a meeting with Mr. Blackwood in the morning.”
My stomach does a little flip at the mention of him. Alexander Blackwood. The CEO. The man who runs this entire empire. I’ve never actually met him. Not that I expect to. He’s this mysterious, untouchable figure, too busy wheeling and dealing to ever interact with someone like me. But still, just hearing his name... it’s something.
“Got it,” I say, keeping my voice even. “Noon.”
Reed’s smile widens, like he’s pleased with himself. “Good girl.”
I force a nod, biting my tongue as he turns and saunters back into his office. The door closes, and I exhale, shoulders slumping. God, I hate him.
I drop into my chair, staring at the pile of documents. This is my life now. Fetching coffee, shuffling paperwork, and dodging creeps like Reed. But then I glance around the office. It’s sleek, modern, all glass and steel, with views of the city skyline. And I remind myself: I’m in New York. I’m working for one of the biggest companies in the country. This is what I wanted. It’s not perfect, but my dreams are closer than ever.
I settle into my chair, cracking open the first file, when Lena walks by. Lena.
Mr. Blackwood’s assistant.
She’s tall, icy blonde, with the sharpest cheekbones I’ve ever seen and the kind of wardrobe you’d expect to see on a runway. Everything about her screams cold . She doesn’t even glance my way as she strides past my desk, her heels clicking against the marble floor. Not that I expected her to. We’ve crossed paths a few times, but it’s always the same—polite, curt, and distant. Like she’s on a whole different level. Which, I guess, she is.
I glance at the clock. 9 a.m. Three hours until I have to meet with Reed. Just enough time to dive into these papers.
I skim through the first few pages, my mind already drifting. Jenna’s voice plays in my head, teasing me about dating. Not that I’ve even thought about it. Who the hell has time for a social life when you’re buried under marketing reports and budget sheets? Not to mention the fact that I’d probably have to fend off guys like Reed.
My phone buzzes again, and I check the screen. A text from Jenna: Don’t forget to eat lunch today, workaholic. And tell Reed to shove it.
I snort, texting back: Will do. Bakery update?
Her reply is almost instant. Sold out of croissants already. You’re missing out.
I smile at the thought of her killing it back in Philly. The bakery’s really taking off, and I’m proud of her. I wish I could be there to help, but I’ve got my own mountains to climb.
Time passes in a blur of numbers, proposals, and contracts. My brain’s barely keeping up, but I’ve got a system now—highlight, summarize, send it up. Rinse and repeat. The clock hits 11:50, and I realize I haven’t eaten. Not that it matters. Reed’s gonna want those papers done by tomorrow, and I need to prep for this noon meeting.
I stack the files neatly, grab my notepad, and head for his office. His door is half-open, and I knock lightly before stepping inside.
“Mr. Reed? You wanted to see me?”
He’s sitting behind his desk, scrolling through emails or stocks or whatever the hell it is he does all day, barely glancing up when I enter. “Yes, Miss Sanders. Sit.”
I take a seat across from him, my notebook ready. Reed finally looks up, his eyes flicking to the clock on the wall. “I’ll be brief. I’m heading up to meet with Mr. Blackwood shortly, but before I go, I need you to prepare a report on those documents. Corporate format. Polished.”
“Of course,” I say, nodding. “Anything specific you’d like me to highlight?”
Reed leans back in his chair, steepling his fingers in that weird way he does. “Just make sure it’s clean and concise. We can’t afford any mistakes right now.”
I nod again, jotting down a few notes. “Understood. I’ll have it ready by tomorrow morning.”
“Good,” Reed says, his eyes lingering on me again, making my skin crawl. “And Miss Sanders?”
I look up from my notepad. “Yes?”
His smile is slow, almost predatory. “You’re doing well here. Keep it up, and who knows? You might just move up the ladder.”
I force a smile. “Thank you, Mr. Reed.”
He waves his hand dismissively. “That’s all. You can go.”
I stand quickly, heading for the door before he can say anything else. As soon as I’m out of his office, I breathe easier. God, that man is exhausting. And creepy as hell.
I head back to my desk, sinking into my chair and staring at the stack of papers again. But instead of diving back into work, I glance around the office. The hum of computers, the quiet conversations, the view of the city beyond the glass windows. This is where I am now. New York. Blackwood Enterprises. It’s not perfect, but it’s mine.
For now.
And maybe, just maybe, one day I’ll make it to the top.
* * *
It’s almost 9 p.m., and I’m ready to collapse. My feet are killing me, and my back aches, but I’m stuck here, in a cocktail dress that’s way too tight and serving drinks at this stupid corporate event.
All because Jameson Reed— my boss —decided there was some “emergency corporate meeting” and that all the assistants had to help with drinks. Right. Because that’s definitely part of my job description.
I glance around the room, all polished people in their designer suits and fancy dresses, laughing like they don’t have a care in the world. The ballroom is massive, with chandeliers and gold accents that scream wealth. I’m just trying to get through the night without making a fool of myself.
“Sanders!” Reed’s voice snaps me out of my daze.
I spin around, spotting him near the grand entrance. He’s waving me over, already looking irritated, as usual. He’s standing with a group of big-shot executives, including someone I instantly recognize. Alexander Blackwood . The CEO.
Tall, dark hair, blue eyes that seem to cut through the room. He moves like he owns everything in sight—because, well, he kind of does. The second he steps into the room, everyone gets quieter, the tension rising like we’re all waiting to see what he’ll do.
I hurry over, balancing the champagne tray. “Champagne, sir?” I manage, keeping my voice steady.
Reed nods, not even glancing at me as he tries to catch Blackwood’s attention, all smiles and schmooze. “Mr. Blackwood, I’d love to—”
But before I can even process what’s happening, I trip. My stupid heel catches on something, and the tray tilts. I watch in horror as the champagne spills—all over Alexander Blackwood’s pristine suit.
The entire room goes silent.
Oh. My. God.
My heart plummets. I’m standing there, frozen, with the empty tray in my hands, champagne soaking into his expensive jacket, and everyone is staring at me.
“I—I’m so sorry,” I stammer, trying to recover, but it’s too late. Blackwood’s icy blue eyes are locked on me, and the look he gives me sends a shiver down my spine.
Reed is gaping, but Blackwood just steps back, his voice dangerously calm. “Follow me.”
Before I can argue or explain, he grabs my arm—not hard, but firm—and starts leading me through the crowd. I can feel the stares, hear the whispers, but I can’t focus on anything other than the fact that I just spilled champagne on the CEO of Blackwood Enterprises. I’m dead. So dead.
He pushes through a door, pulling me into a small powder room. The second the door clicks shut, he lets go of my arm and turns to face me, his expression cold.
“Do you have any idea how much this suit costs?” His voice is low, furious.
“I— I’m really sorry,” I stammer, grabbing a towel from the counter, trying to wipe at the champagne stain. “It was an accident—”
He grabs my wrist, stopping me mid-motion. “I don’t need you to clean me up,” he snaps, his voice rough. His eyes are burning with anger, but there’s something else there. Something intense.
I swallow hard. “I’ll get more napkins.”
I rush out, grab the napkins from a nearby server station, and dart back into the room, my hands shaking. Blackwood is still standing there, waiting, his suit ruined.
“I’m really sorry,” I whisper again, holding out the napkins. “It was an accident.”
“Accident or not,” he says, his voice sharp, “you’ve just ruined a suit worth more than your monthly salary.”
I feel like I’m going to throw up. “I—I didn’t mean to—”
“What’s your name?” he asks.
Bile sours my throat. “Ellie. Ellie Sanders.”
He steps closer, and suddenly, there’s hardly any space between us. I’m looking up at him, and his eyes—they’re sharp, but there’s something else there, something dark and heavy that makes my stomach flip.
“What I want,” he says, his voice dropping to a dangerously low whisper, “is for you to learn how to carry yourself, Ms. Sanders. Because if you can’t, I’ll make sure you understand exactly what that means.”
I can’t breathe. I can’t move. I’m standing there, frozen, staring up at him like an idiot. The air between us is thick, heavy, and I don’t know what’s happening, but something has shifted. Something’s changed.
And then, just as suddenly, he steps back, his face hardening again.
“Leave Ellie.”
I can barely breathe. I nod, unsure what else to do. He stares at me for a moment longer, then storms off, leaving me standing there, shaking, trying not to cry.
I don’t move for a few seconds. Then, slowly, I turn and walk back to the party, my head down. I find Reed, who’s glaring at me like I’ve just destroyed his entire life.
“You’re done for the night,” he says, his voice flat.
I don’t even argue. I grab my things and leave.
The second I’m outside, I pull out my phone and call Jenna. My hands are trembling as I press the phone to my ear.
“Ellie? What’s wrong?” Jenna’s voice comes through, warm and familiar.
“I screwed up,” I whisper, choking on the words. “I spilled champagne on the CEO.”
There’s a long pause. “Oh, shit.”
“Yeah.”
“Are you fired?”
“I don’t know,” I say, biting my lip. “He didn’t say anything, but... I think I’m done, Jen. I think he is going to fire me.”
Jenna’s quiet for a moment, then she sighs. “Ellie, listen. If it comes to that, you can always come back here. Philly’s not going anywhere. You’ll figure it out.”
“I can’t just... leave,” I say, my voice breaking. “I worked so hard to get here.”
Jenna’s silent for a second. “Do you really think he’s gonna fire you?”
“I don’t know,” I whisper, the panic rising in my chest. “Maybe. I mean, he didn’t say anything about it, but he was pissed . And everyone saw, Jen. Everyone. I looked like a complete idiot.”
“Ellie, listen to me,” Jenna says, her voice firm but soft. “You’re not an idiot, okay? You’re human. Shit happens.”
“Fuck. I really fucked up!”
“And you’re not giving up. You’re just... taking a break. Look, get some sleep, and we’ll figure it out tomorrow. Okay?”
I nod, even though she can’t see me. “Okay.”
“Love you, girl.”
“Love you too,” I whisper, ending the call.
I stand there for a minute, staring at the dark city skyline. Then I take a deep breath and head for the subway. Maybe Jenna’s right. Maybe this isn’t the end.
But it sure as hell feels like it.