Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Solenn
Walking into Spencer & Co. felt like stepping into another world.
The lobby was a masterpiece of glass, steel, and quiet efficiency, the kind of place where everything gleamed and not a single chair was out of place.
The air smelled faintly of fresh coffee and expensive cologne, and the polished marble floors reflected the overhead lighting so perfectly that I could almost see my reflection as I walked across them.
I approached the reception desk with a confident stride, smoothing my blazer. The woman behind the desk, a sleek brunette in a fitted navy dress, glanced up from her computer. The moment her eyes landed on me, her perfectly painted lips parted slightly, and I caught a flicker of… was that horror?
“Hi,” I said, flashing a polite smile. “I’m here for an interview with HR.”
She stared at me for a second longer than necessary before clearing her throat. “Name?”
“Solenn Wheeler.”
Her fingers flew over the keyboard, but her gaze kept flicking back to me like she was trying to find a way to warn me without actually saying the words. After a moment, she nodded slowly. “Right. You’re here for…”
“The executive assistant position,” I supplied helpfully.
She inhaled sharply as if I’d just said I was here to volunteer as tribute in a gladiator match.
A man standing nearby, holding a tablet, let out a low whistle under his breath. “God help you.”
I turned my head slightly, raising a brow. “Excuse me?”
The guy, mid-thirties, wearing a sharp gray suit, gave me a look that was half pity, half morbid curiosity. “You’re applying to be his assistant?”
I blinked. “You mean the CEO?”
A blonde woman standing next to him nudged his arm. “Don’t scare her.”
“I’m not scaring her,” he said, looking at me again. “I’m preparing her.”
The receptionist shot him a warning glance before turning back to me. “HR is on the fifteenth floor,” she said quickly, sliding a visitor’s badge across the counter. “Take the elevators on the left.”
I picked up the badge, adjusting the strap on my bag. “Thanks.”
As I walked toward the elevators, I heard the guy mutter, “She won’t last a week.”
Charming.
I stepped into the elevator, pressing the button for the fifteenth floor.
The doors slid shut, and I took a deep breath.
Okay. So maybe Maverick Spencer had a bit of a reputation.
That wasn’t surprising. The man was a legend in the business world.
Ruthless, brilliant, impossible to work for.
I’d read the articles and seen the headlines.
He was the kind of CEO who demanded nothing less than absolute perfection, the kind who expected his employees to keep up or get out of the way.
That didn’t bother me. If anything, it intrigued me.
The elevator doors opened with a quiet chime, and I stepped into the HR department. The space was bright, lined with glass offices and sleek modern furniture. A woman in her forties, dressed in a pale blue blazer, glanced up from her desk as I approached.
“Solenn Wheeler?”
“That’s me.”
She gave me a once-over, then gestured for me to follow her. “Right this way.”
I walked behind her, noticing the way a few employees nearby subtly turned their heads as I passed. A couple of them exchanged glances, their expressions somewhere between amusement and sympathy.
We reached a small conference room, and the woman gestured for me to take a seat. “I’m Claire, one of the senior HR managers,” she said, settling across from me. She folded her hands neatly on the table. “So, I see you’re applying for the executive assistant position.”
“That’s right.”
Claire tilted her head slightly. “And you’re aware of the, um… expectations that come with the role?”
I smiled. “You mean the part where the CEO is allegedly impossible to work for and has gone through more assistants than most people go through coffee orders?”
Her lips twitched like she was trying not to smile. “So you have heard.”
“A little.”
She exhaled, tapping her nails lightly against the table.
“Look, I won’t sugarcoat it. This position is demanding.
The last few assistants lasted an average of three months.
The one before them? Six weeks. Maverick Spencer is—” she hesitated as if choosing her words carefully, “—a man of extremely high standards.”
I leaned back slightly. “Let me guess. He expects perfection, hates inefficiency, and doesn’t tolerate mistakes.”
Claire nodded. “That’s… a polite way to put it.”
I tilted my head. “And yet, the position is still open.”
She sighed. “Because as difficult as he is, working under him is a career changer. Anyone who lasts in this role walks away with connections, experience, and more credibility than most people gain in years.”
I considered that for a second. It made sense. A job like this could open doors I hadn’t even thought about yet. It was high-stakes, sure, but I’d never been the type to back down from a challenge.
Claire studied me. “So, knowing all that… are you still interested?”
I smirked. “What’s the worst that can happen? He eats me alive?”
She let out a quiet laugh. “You joke, but…” She trailed off, shaking her head.
I grinned. “I think I can handle it.”
She watched me for a moment longer, then nodded. “Alright. The CEO is conducting the interviews himself. If you’re serious about this, I’ll take you up to his office now.”
Something flickered in her expression like she was waiting for me to hesitate. I didn’t.
“Let’s do it,” I said, standing.
Claire gestured for me to follow her out of the conference room. We walked down the hall, her heels clicking against the polished floors. The employees we passed looked at me again—some curious, some skeptical, some just… waiting. Like they expected me to turn around and run.
We stepped into the elevator, and Claire pressed the button for the top floor. As we ascended, she glanced at me. “Any last questions?”
“Yeah,” I said. “On a scale of one to ten, how scary is he?”
She gave me a look. “Eleven.”
I laughed under my breath, but part of me was looking forward to this.
The elevator dinged, and the doors slid open to reveal the executive floor. The space was all sleek black walls, glass offices, and an undeniable aura of power. Claire led me down a quiet hallway, stopping in front of a set of massive double doors.
“This is his office,” she said, her voice lowering slightly. “He’s expecting you.”
I nodded, inhaling deeply as she knocked once before opening the door.
I stepped inside.
The room was stunning—floor-to-ceiling windows offering a sweeping view of the city, dark wood furnishings, and minimalist decor. But what stood out the most was the empty desk in the middle of the room.
Maverick Spencer wasn’t here yet.
I exhaled slowly, adjusting my posture as Claire backed out of the office.
“Good luck,” she said before closing the door behind her.
I was alone now, standing in the center of a room that radiated power and authority, waiting for a man who terrified half the company.
I took a seat, crossing my legs as I glanced around.
Alright, Maverick Spencer. Let’s see what all the fuss is about.