Chapter 5 Cold Reception

~~SERAPHINE~~

I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. I just stood there, staring at Andrew, my hand frozen in his professional handshake, because this had to be some kind of joke.

The man who had spent an entire night showing me pleasure I didn't know existed was now standing in front of me in an expensive suit, pretending he'd never seen me before.

"Miss Johnson?" The HR representative's voice sounded concerned. "Are you alright?"

I forced myself to snap back to reality, to play along with whatever game Andrew was playing. "Yes, sorry. Just a bit nervous. It's an honor to meet you, Mr. Smithwood."

His hand released mine, and I immediately missed the warmth. "I reviewed your application personally. Your academic record is impressive. I expect great things from you here."

His voice was different. Cold, clipped, devoid of emotions, purely professional. Nothing like the husky whispers from that night in Seattle.

Was it possible he really didn't remember me? Had I been just another forgettable one-night stand?

"Thank you, sir. I won't disappoint you."

"See that you don't. Mrs. Patterson will show you to your desk. You'll be working with the analytics team on the Morrison acquisition."

He turned away, dismissing us, and went back to his desk. Just like that, I ceased to exist for him.

Mrs. Patterson, the HR rep, led me out of the office, chattering about company policies and lunch schedules, but I heard none of it. My mind was spinning.

My desk was in an open floor plan with five other analysts, all of whom seemed friendly enough. But I couldn't focus on their introductions or the welcome packet Mrs. Patterson left me.

All I could think about was Andrew, sitting in his corner office, pretending I was a stranger.

~~~

The first week was torture. Andrew was in the office every day, which apparently was unusual. He normally traveled constantly, but he'd cleared his schedule to oversee the Morrison acquisition personally.

This meant daily meetings where I had to present my analysis while he sat at the head of the conference table, those blue eyes studying my work with detached professionalism.

He never gave any sign that he knew me. Not a flicker of recognition, not a moment of warmth. He criticized my first report for being too conservative in its projections.

Days back, he sent back my second analysis with notes that it needed more comprehensive market comparisons. He was demanding, exacting, and completely impersonal.

By Friday, I was exhausted and confused. Maybe I'd imagined the connection in Seattle. Maybe the alcohol had made me think there was something special when it was just sex for him.

I threw myself into my work, determined to prove myself regardless of our history.

"Rough first week?" Jennifer, one of the other analysts, asked as we packed up Friday evening.

"Is it that obvious?"

She laughed. "Smithwood's been particularly harsh this week. Don't take it personally. He's a perfectionist, but he's fair. If you can handle his standards, you'll learn more here than anywhere else."

"Does he always work this late?" I asked, noticing the light still on in his office.

"Usually later. The man practically lives here. He has no wife or girlfriend that anyone knows about. He's married to the job, they say." Jennifer lowered her voice. "Though there are rumors about why he's been in town all week. Someone said his twin brother is coming to visit."

"Twin brother?"

"Yeah, though no one's ever seen him. A very mysterious family with old money and old power. Some people say they're connected to one of those ancient packs up north."

A shiver ran down my spine. Werewolf packs meant politics, hierarchy, all the things I'd tried to escape by being wolfless. "I should go. Have a good weekend, Jennifer."

I gathered my things and headed for the elevator. As the doors were closing, a hand shot in to stop them. Andrew stepped inside, and suddenly the spacious elevator felt impossibly small.

We stood in silence as the floors counted down. Twenty, nineteen, eighteen. I could smell his cologne, the same one from that night. Seventeen, sixteen, fifteen. His hand was inches from mine on the rail. Fourteen, thirteen, twelve.

"Why?" I finally asked, not looking at him.

"Why what, Miss Johnson?" His voice remained distant.

"Why pretend you don't know me? Why hire me if you're just going to act like Seattle never happened?"

The elevator continued its descent. Eleven, ten, nine.

"I don't know what you're referring to," he affirmed, his words filled with nonchalance.

Fury finally overtook my confusion and I couldn't help but angle my body to face him. "You don't know what I'm referring to? Three weeks ago, you spent the night showing me exactly how much you knew about me. Every single inch of me. And now you're going to stand there and act like it never happened?"

Eight, seven, six.

His jaw clenched, the first sign of any emotion I'd seen all week. "That was a mistake."

The words hit like a slap, my heart capsizing like the Titanic boat. "A mistake?"

Five, four, three.

"Yes. A mistake that won't be repeated. You're an employee now, and I'm your boss. That's all we are to each other."

Two, one, lobby.

The doors opened, and Andrew strode out without looking back. I stood there, frozen, as the doors started to close again.

At the last second, I jumped out, but Andrew was already gone, and he disappeared into the parking garage.

I made it to my car before the tears came. Hot, angry tears that I refused to let fall. I wouldn't cry over another man who thought I was a mistake.

But as I sat there in the dark parking garage, I couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to this story.

Why had he hired me if I was just a mistake? Why was he really in town all week when he usually traveled? And why, when he said it was a mistake, did his eyes look like he was lying?

Monday would bring answers, whether I was ready for them or not. Because tomorrow was the company gala, and Jennifer had mentioned something that made my blood run cold.

The CEO's brother would be there, and he was apparently someone very important. Someone powerful.

Someone who might explain why Andrew was pretending I didn't exist.