Don't be stupid, he offered compensation.

I reminded myself this for the millionth time as I stood outside Steele Business Park, an amalgamation of all the offices owned by Steele Enterprises, all the businesses running in the city as well as globally. This was the epicentre of every business earthquake Aiden Steele would create, and ripples would be felt all the way to my homeland too. The sheer amount of power this man held was no joke, and to think I called him a pig and a moron was making me tremble, no joke.

I made my way to what the staff called the 'headquarters' making it seem like the fucking Pentagon grounds, feeling severely underdressed. I had my shift at GAP later during the day, and I had worn my trusty jeans and red hoodie to survive the journey, black uniform tee shirt under it. Most women walked in tall heels, even kitten heels of some sort, while I was wearing sneakers that once used to be white. I'm pretty sure there's a Taylor Swift lyric in there that I should remember, but the anxiety was eating me up far more than I had anticipated.

All that practice in the shower seemed to have exorcised itself from my body, leaving me a pathetic tangle of limbs walking aimlessly to what seemed to be my impending doom. Damn it. I should have stayed in the shower long enough to catch a cold. At least I'd have an excuse to back out of this.

Looking down at my wrist, I felt a sadness come over me again. The sentimentality of the gift was far more precious than its actual price. Even then, I had spent the night looking high and low online for the same piece of jewellery anywhere, but to no luck. They had only ever made a few hundred of those pieces, making that fucking thing a limited edition of sorts. And then Aiden Steele, with the patience of a toddler, had ruined it.

My frantic thoughts ran a mile a second while my feet carried me slowly towards the headquarters. The guard at the gate asked for my ID, I told him I'm visiting Aiden Steele.

He just gave me a sympathetic smile before letting me in.

Was this a frequent occurrence? Did heartbroken or jilted lovers come in here often to see Aiden? A man like him seemed to have no time for everything a relationship entailed, but he was seen with dates all the time during formal events. Would he let all the women he had any interest in drop into his office? How many of these women had caused a scene? How many of them had been escorted out by security?

I'd never embarrassed myself like that. I'd definitely keep my cool and I'd be all composed. I will be on my best professional behaviour.

The lobby was in muted shades of baby blue and white, elements of silver running through the design. Clearly, the designer had taken the Steele name seriously and done his best fucking job. The marble flooring was shining, not a speck of dust anywhere. I hoped my shoes looked like they had always been grey. There was a reception to the left, with silver lettering of the company's name in the back, looking imposingly at me. The place screamed opulence, and I felt very much like a rat walking into the lion's den.

I should have worn my formals and come, or at least made an attempt to fit in those old clothes. I knew my ramen diet wasn't doing wonders for my body, but some of them had been slightly loose then, maybe they would have fit just right now?

Anyways, fuck it.

I had come here for one job only, and I'll be out of the building as soon as I came in.

"Hi," I walked over to the reception area, finding a blonde woman smiling back at me, "I was hoping you could let me see Aiden Steele?"

With the same cold smile still on her face, the woman gave me a once over, apparently deeming I am not the type Aiden should be associated with. I could literally see her face as she came to that assessment, choosing a polite way of saying fuck off, "I'm afraid Mr Steele has left this morning for a business trip. He'd be back in a couple of days, maybe you could try calling his assistant and scheduling an appointment?"

I will rip her hair out.

I leaned over the reception, still smiling, "Darling, we both know Aiden's upstairs in one of these huge ass rooms. Don't worry, I'm not here to break your fantasies of sleeping with your boss, he owes me a debt. Once he pays it back, I'll be out of your hair in no time."

I stood back, happy to see her positively stunned at my candid behaviour. To her credit, she recovered quickly, "I'm afraid, Mr Steele doesn't sound like the type to owe anyone a debt, Miss."

"Call him, then." I raised a brow, arms folded across my chest, "Tell him I've come to collect my bracelet."

The woman seemed to be jarred by my unwavering confidence, confused and slightly panicking. Had she never seen a woman assert her authority? This place must have sick gender gaps. Another reason to solidify my belief Aiden Steele was a pig. While she figured what to do, the redhead receptionist behind her stood up in greeting, making the two of us look at the new entrant in the room. Secretly, I'd been hoping it was Aiden himself, so I could get out of this confrontation as soon as I could.

Unfortunately, it was only Jason Emerson, the birthday boy, walking into the building. He walked with confidence in his stride, long legs carrying him in an almost mesmerizing way and I almost drooled until he stopped in his tracks, looking at me.

"Well, aren't you the girl from last night?"

I nodded, shaking his hand when he held it out for me, "What brings you here?"

"The bracelet," I explained, "Mr Steele asked me to drop by the office so we could figure the deal."

Jason smiled, and I wondered just freaking how rich people just had the best luck on this planet. Like, you already had money, and now you got the looks too? Unfair.

"Have you seen him yet?"

I shook my head, "Well, it didn't seem like a plausible enough story for her." I looked back at the reception woman, who was now white as a sheet. My version of events was true, and I wasn't here to sleep with her boss.

"Mary's just doing her job, I'm sure you understand." He smiled politely, "Let me take you to Aiden's office. I was heading there anyway."

"Sure." I chirped, walking after him, adjusting the straps of my bag pack as I walked. Jason Emerson was too tall, and it was a pain to keep up with him as he headed towards the elevators, my sneakers slipping on the ground at least thrice till we came to a stop around the doors.

The elevators would take at least another five minutes to come down considering the height of the building, and I could swear I would die of awkwardness in that time span. In my head, I was bursting with curiosity about how Jason's mind worked and how on earth was he able to find a turnaround for the strangest and craziest brands. The more anyone talked about Jason Emerson, the more you would be in awe of him.

"You look like you have a lot to say." He broke the ice finally, a smug smile on his face. Of course, he had a good read on people. The best marketers do.

"Just a huge fan of your work," I admitted, "I don't want to make it weird or anything."

"Oh yeah?" Jason seemed surprised I would follow his work, "What do you think about the new campaign for Coca Cola?"

I narrowed my eyes. Was he trying to trick me?

"I thought Ogilvy worked on that."

A smile broke out on his face. I'd passed the test.

"I imagine you hear that line often?" Sympathy rushed in, but momentarily.

It must be lonely at the top, but being lonely is the only way you get to the top, my professor's words rang in my ears, and now I was seeing the proof.

"More than you'd think."

"It's a shame," I said, but my voice was drowned out by the lift opening and a rush of people emerging from it. Jason motioned me to go in, and he followed, pressing the button to the thirty-fifth floor. On the way up, we spoke about some other brand campaigns that interested us and how we were horrified by the new mascot change by a sports team. At least it distracted me from the fact that we were going to be thirty fucking five floors up from the ground.

"Tacky, really." He commented, shaking his head.

"A shame. It's too topical for something that's supposed to be timeless." I shrugged, looking at the panel. We were almost there.

"So, how does someone like you end up at Negative? Not to be offensive or anything, just curious." He said as we walked out. He acknowledged the presence of the receptionist on that floor and others who stood to greet him, while I followed him around like a child at her father's office. At least it bought me time to come up with an excuse. Unfortunately, for all my creativity, I could find none by the time we turned the corridor and we were practically alone again.

Welp, truth time, I guess.

"I dropped out of B-school after the first year at Northwestern."

Jason stopped in his tracks, "You were at Kellogg?"

I mean, yeah, you don't expect someone from Kellogg to be waiting tables at Negative. Kellogg was just a one-way ticket to money heaven.

I nodded, hoping he wouldn't prod that much after the inevitable next question. I mean, not everyone gets into that building, and once you do, it's pretty much a golden ticket to anywhere. If only I could have stuck around for the second year...

"Why'd you drop out?"

"Stuff." I shrugged, hoping he knew the topic was not open for discussion.

"Alright, but I do hope you get back in someday. The world could use your passion for marketing." I was glad for the lack of questions and I was glad the world had a Jason Emerson in it because truly, we needed that smile on this planet more than we would ever know.

I smiled back, not knowing how else to respond. Three years ago, I'd accepted my fate. There was no B-school future for me.

"Here's Aiden's office." He showed me the corner office, separated from the noise of the building with a hardwood door. Jason turned to the woman sitting outside, "Lydia, can you inform Aiden that the girl from last night is here?"

I had in fact told Jason my name on the elevator ride up, but the fact that he still considered me as the 'girl from last night' made me want to vomit. Could rich people just suck it up and realize I was a person too?

Lydia rose from her seat, showing me legs that stretched on for miles swaying her hips as she walked up to his office. She disappeared behind closed doors, only to emerge moments later with a file in her hand and a terrified look on her face, "You can go in now, but he's not in a good mood."

"Fuck if I care," I muttered, taking one last look at Emerson before heading in.

Aiden's office was overlooking the whole damn city, and the glass windows that ran from top to bottom made me wonder just how beautiful the sight would be at night. The walls were hardwood again, dark and rich, decadent even. In the middle of all this was Aiden Steele, sitting at his minimalist and clean desk, staring at me with an expectant look on his face.

"Take a seat." He motioned, and I complied, feeling the chilly draft of the air conditioner squeezing the life out of me.

"Would you like something to eat or drink?"

My stomach was curious to know the type of food they'd serve if I asked, but that was not the purpose of my visit, really. I silenced it, saying "No, thank you. I was hoping to get this done in the morning, as soon as possible. I have to get to work in an hour."

With those calculating eyes, he checked me head to toe, "Work?"

"I'm a sales associate at GAP during the day. Last night was an extra job." I informed. What else did he think? Does Negative pay enough for anyone to not have two jobs?

He nodded, still looking pensive about something else. It was like he was physically here, but mentally elsewhere, and this elsewhere was going to take up a lot of his time and energy. Big people, big problems. I wondered how much money he was losing by spending time here with a stupid waitress and just her stupid bracelet.

"Look, Miss..."

"Thea," I supplied.

"Well, Miss Thea." He nodded, leaning forward in his seat, elbows on the table. If he was truly trying to intimidate me, consider me intimidated. What the fuck. It was like he was overpowering me without technically even doing anything. And I was terrified, almost.

"I don't know what type of men you're used to acquainting yourself with at clubs, but believe me, I have no mind to part with any amount of money for a child's bracelet."

Jesus, does this man know of anything called fucking manners?

"Okay, you know what-" I was so pissed, my anger last night was nothing compared to what I was feeling now. It wasn't just anger, but frustration, and an insane amount of humiliation to be called any version of a gold digger, not with everything about me I kept closely wrapped up.

But Aiden was calm and collected as he interrupted me, "I'll ask Lydia to escort you out of the building."

"Like fuck you will," I snarled, perhaps even surprising myself at the moment.

"You know what Mr Steele, some of us actually have these things called emotions. I can see from your face that you don't understand jack shit about it, but that bracelet that you called 'childish' had great emotional value attached to it. It was the last memory I had of someone... close to me, but I don't think you'd understand that very clearly either. So let me explain this to you in a way that makes sense: that childish bracelet had only a few hundred or so copies distributed across the world. It was rare as fuck, and I'm assuming you have the mental capacity to understand that high demand equals higher and inflated prices."

I took a deep breath, standing up and breathing as if that would help me regain my power, "I've been scouring the internet all fucking night to see if I could get another one, but the lowest bid I've seen so far is in four digits. Now again, I will assume that you know basic math, so you can guess that someone barely above minimum wage cannot afford to make these kinds of purchases."

Having lost my mind, truly, I grabbed a paper off his desk and a pen, no shame at all in my mind as I wrote down my address and number as neatly as possible with quivering hands.

I hope I ruined an important paper.

"Here's my address, and you have a week. I want my bracelet by next Monday."

"You can't walk into my own office and threaten me," He raised a brow.

"I never said there would be consequences," I levelled coolly, "Therefore I am not making a threat. If I don't get my bracelet by next Monday, I doubt you'd remember me at all in your life. But I will always remember you as the person who took her away from me. Not sure about you, but I couldn't live with that on my conscience."

What a frustrating and arrogant piece of work!

My eyes were burning, which meant more tears, and I didn't want him to think I was trying to manipulate me or whatever, so I walked out of the room, making a beeline towards the elevators. I didn't see if Jason was outside, or if Lydia had anything to say about my appearance. I took the elevator down, thankfully empty so I could compose myself. On my phone, I checked my appearance. Fix your eyes, fix your nose, fix your cheeks.

Outside, I even had the courage to smile at Mary before leaving, who could only sneer at me in response. Fuck you, Mary. You can hop on your bitch of a boss' dick and fuck right off.

I'll never see this building again.

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