A tall man almost six feet one walked in through the glass door.
His white shirt and black pants fit him perfectly, his deep blue coat hanging casually from one hand. The sharp outline of his body was visible even through the fabric. He was checking his phone, his face calm and unreadable.
Sia looked up at him with red, blurred eyes.
When he lifted his face, green eyes caught the sunlight filtering through the blue-tinted glass walls. They landed on Sia.
She was still crying.
The entire office went silent.
He walked toward her and asked, his voice firm but controlled,
"What happened, young lady? Why are you crying?"
Sia didn't answer. She kept sobbing softly, her throat tight.
Everyone avoided looking at them.
He asked again, sharper this time,
"Is there a problem, ma'am?"
Sia opened her mouth, then closed it again. Words refused to come out. She felt deeply embarrassed. She didn't want to stand in front of the boss like this—crying.
They'll think I'm begging for the job, she thought.
And maybe that was true.
But only she knew how badly she needed it. And she didn't want anyone's mercy.
Seeing no response, the man turned to the receptionist.
"What happened to this young lady?" he asked.
"Why is a girl crying in my office?"
His tone turned cold.
The receptionist panicked slightly.
"Hritik sir… she came for the assistant's assistant position. The interview was already going on, and she was late. We told her she couldn't attend. Then she started crying."
Hritik turned back to Sia.
She had to look up at him the height difference between them was striking. Her brown eyes met his green ones.
For a moment, he paused.
Her eyes were red from crying, swollen, yet strangely expressive. She looked like a deer that had escaped a predator's grip but hadn't yet recovered from the shock.
Hritik broke the silence.
"Ma'am, I'm extremely sorry," he said.
"But you were late. We can't take your interview. It's against our policy. You can try next time."
"I don't have a next time."
Sia spoke for the first time.
Her voice was steady. Her eyes didn't drop.
Hritik looked surprised.
"I understand," he replied, "but I'm very strict with my rules. Apply again for another post and come on time."
He turned toward the lift.
Sia spoke again, louder this time.
"I ran away from home to give this interview."
He stopped.
"I expected that I would at least get a chance," she continued.
"But you're rejecting me without even talking to me."
Hritik turned back slowly.
"Ma'am," he said calmly, "our manager must have told you that an interview doesn't guarantee a job."
"I know that," Sia replied.
"Then how can you say I won't be selected without even taking my interview?" she asked, her voice firm now.
The entire office froze.
No one had ever spoken to the boss like this.
Hritik walked back toward her. He stood close—close enough for her to hear his steady breathing.
"May I know your name?" he asked.
"Sia."
"So, Miss Sia," he said, looking down at her,
"you're confident that you would have cleared the interview and got this job?"
Sia froze again.
She knew she hadn't prepared. She knew her degree was incomplete. She knew many applicants would be far more qualified.
But then she remembered—she had been shortlisted.
They saw something, she thought.
That thought gave her strength.
"Yes," she said.
"I'm confident I would have got this job."
Hritik raised his left eyebrow slightly. A faint cut mark near it became visible.
"Fine," he said.
"Come to my office."
He turned and pressed the lift button.
Sia followed him, stunned.
She had been prepared to be thrown out of the building. This sudden change made her nervous—and hopeful at the same time. Her hands shook as she tried to think of what she could say in the interview.
Nothing came.
The lift doors closed.
She caught her reflection in the mirror. Her shirt's top button was open, making her uncomfortable. She noticed Hritik glance briefly in her direction.
Her face heated instantly.
She adjusted her hair to cover herself.
The lift opened.
They entered his office.
It was massive. Shelves filled with books, heavy machines placed neatly, a small gym area in one corner, a coffee machine near the wall. A large table stood in the center, covered with files.
Hritik sat down and gestured for Sia to sit across from him.
She did.
He folded his hands and looked directly at her.
"So, Miss Sia," he said,
"what qualities do you have to become my assistant's assistant?"
Sia thought hard.
Nothing came to mind.
Regret washed over her. Why did I argue with him?
She spoke hesitantly.
"I… I make good coffee."
A slight smile flickered on Hritik's face before he hid it.
"Anything else?" he asked.
"I'm good at taking notes," she added quickly.
"And managing schedules."
"Okay," he said.
"Anything else?"
Sia knew her answers sounded weak.
"I'm good with computers," she said.
"And I'm polite and hardworking. I learn fast."
Hritik paused for a long moment.
"Miss Sia," he said finally,
"we don't hire people to teach them. We hire experienced ones. So I'm sorry—you're not eligible for this post. Thank you. You may leave."
He gestured toward the door.
As he moved his hand, a diamond ring on his finger caught the light.
Sia stood up slowly.
She looked at him once more. His green eyes met hers. His expression was unreadable.
She left the office.
In the lift, silent tears slid down her cheeks. She wiped them quickly, not wanting anyone to see.
Outside the building, her phone rang.
An unknown number.
She hesitated, then picked it up.
"Hello?"
"Hey, Sia."
Her heart skipped.
"You're not qualified for my assistant's assistant position," the voice said calmly.
"But you are qualified to be my assistant."
She froze.
"I'll see you tomorrow at 9 a.m.," he continued,
"with a cup of coffee in my office."
For a moment, she thought she was dreaming.
She pinched herself.
"Thank you, sir," she said breathlessly.
"But… what about your assistant? Don't you already have one?"
"Yes," he replied.
"That's for my professional work. I need a personal assistant."
The call ended.
Sia stood there, staring at the shining building.
She looked up and saw him standing near the fourth-floor glass window. When she looked directly at him, he stepped back.
She smiled.
Personal assistant.
The words echoed in her mind.
But the image of that diamond ring lingered in her eyes—
and a strange unease settled in her chest.