First Impression

The elevator doors opened with a soft ding that echoed through the grand marble lobby of Valerio Holdings. Elira Cruz stepped out slowly, clutching her folder to her chest like armor. The polished floor reflected the soft white lights above, and every wall gleamed with the kind of clean that screamed “expensive.” Her humble black pumps felt too loud against the floor, each step announcing her presence like a drumroll in a library.

Her first day.

She swallowed hard.

A glass wall enclosed the executive offices ahead, where her future was about to begin. Just beyond it stood a reception desk, manned by a woman who looked like she walked off a runway—sleek ponytail, flawless makeup, manicured nails that tapped rhythmically on her keyboard. She barely looked up.

“Elira Cruz. I’m here to—”

“Personal secretary,” the receptionist cut in, giving her a once-over that wasn’t exactly unkind, but definitely skeptical. “You’re early. Mr. Valerio isn’t in yet.”

Before Elira could respond, the glass door opened behind her with a mechanical whoosh.

“He is now.”

The voice was calm. Measured. Male.

She turned.

The man who stepped into the room looked like every CEO article she’d skimmed on LinkedIn. Tall. Tailored. Too good-looking for someone who probably spent most of his time in meetings. His charcoal suit fit like it was stitched directly onto his frame. His expression, however, was unreadable—somewhere between bored and mildly amused.

“Liam Valerio,” he said, extending a hand.

Her breath caught. She reached out automatically, shaking his hand while trying not to let her anxiety show. His grip was firm but not crushing, warm without being sweaty. Basically everything about him was perfectly balanced. Effortless.

“Elira Cruz,” she replied, hoping her voice didn’t tremble. “It’s an honor to meet you.”

His mouth quirked slightly at the corner. Not quite a smile, but close. “Come. I’ll show you to your workspace.”

She followed him through a private hallway that smelled faintly of leather and some luxury cologne she couldn’t place. The kind that came in bottles with no labels and price tags that hurt to even think about.

“You’ll be seated just outside my office,” he said. “You’ll manage my calendar, coordinate my meetings, screen calls, and occasionally remind me to eat.”

She blinked. “Sir?”

He glanced at her. “You’ll see. I get tunnel vision.”

She wasn’t sure how to respond to that, so she nodded instead.

He stopped by a sleek L-shaped desk with dual monitors, a tablet, and a stack of neatly arranged office supplies. It looked like something from a tech blog—way too advanced for someone who still used sticky notes for reminders.

“This is yours,” he said. “You’re welcome to customize it. But don’t bring any noisy keychains or bobbleheads.”

A nervous laugh slipped from her lips. “No problem. I travel light.”

He turned toward his glass office door but paused. “One more thing, Elira.”

“Yes, sir?”

“I prefer Liam.”

She hesitated. “Liam.”

“There we go.”

He disappeared into his office, leaving her to sit in her new chair and breathe—finally. She looked around and took in the surreal moment.

A job. A real one. With benefits. In a skyscraper. Working for a man who looked like he belonged on the cover of a business magazine.

She exhaled slowly and pulled out a tiny photo from her folder. It was worn and faded, showing a much younger her holding a diploma, flanked by no one. Her graduation photo. No family. No guests. Just a tripod and a ten-second timer.

She slipped it into her drawer quietly, unnoticed.

But she didn’t realize someone had noticed.

Behind the clear walls of his office, Liam watched her through the one-way tint. He saw the photo. He saw the quiet way she tucked it out of sight.

And it stirred something in him.

Not pity.

Recognition.

Because once, long ago, they had stood in the same room—different worlds, same campus.

She didn’t remember him.

But he had never forgotten her.

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