The boardroom was filled with the soft whir of the air conditioner and the steady click of a remote as charts shifted across the screen—profit margins, market expansions, and brand collaborations lighting up the presentation. The company's name glowed at the top: Holloway & Brand, a leader in fashion and branding.
Alexandra sat at the far end of the table, close to Stacy Holloway, composed and attentive. A slim stylus rested between her fingers, tapping softly against the edge of her tablet as the presenter's voice echoed through the room.
"As you can see, our third-quarter profit rose by twelve percent following the spring campaign. Social engagement grew by twenty-eight percent, with our luxury eco-line performing above expectations."
Alexandra's eyes narrowed slightly. "How about our retail partnership in Seoul? Have we resolved the shipping delays?"
The presenter nodded nervously. "Yes, Ms. Brand. The logistics team confirmed all adjustments this week."
"Good," she said, tapping a quick note into her tablet. "And make sure our influencers are briefed about the fall concept before next month's shoot. No last-minute mix-ups this time."
"Yes, ma'am."
The meeting wrapped an hour later. Chairs scraped lightly against the marble floor as board members filed out, murmuring quick goodbyes. Soon, only Stacy, Zoe, and Alexandra remained.
Stacy leaned back in her chair and stretched, a yawn slipping past her composure. "That was brutal," she said. Then she smirked. "But hey—we survived another quarterly review."
Alexandra chuckled softly, her gaze never leaving her laptop as her fingers continued to move across the keyboard. "It really wasn't that bad."
Stacy scoffed. "Not for you," she teased. "You actually enjoy these things."
With a grin, Stacy reached for her bag and tossed her pen inside, the soft clatter echoing faintly. "Anyway," she continued, glancing toward Alexandra, "I'm grabbing dinner tonight with my beautiful wife right here and a few friends. Lesley's coming too." She tilted her head, playful but sincere. "You should join us, Alex. A little food. Maybe wine. Some normal human interaction?"
Zoe snorted lightly from across the table. "She's right. You're either buried in work or off running charity events like some overachieving saint," she said, shaking her head. "Take a break for once."
Alexandra was just about to answer when her phone chimed.
The soft sound cut cleanly through the conversation. She glanced down before she could stop herself.
7 p.m. Sharp. Same place. – Sam
The message preview glowed against the dark screen, unassuming and decisive. Alexandra's eyes flicked to the corner of her laptop, then to the clock mounted on the wall.
5:42 p.m.
Plenty of time.
Just enough to make it feel intentional.
Her lips pressed together, then curved into a small, knowing smile she didn't bother to hide. She closed her laptop with a quiet click and rose from her chair. "I'll take a rain check," she said lightly. "I have to go."
Stacy frowned, already suspicious. "Go where?"
Alexandra slipped her phone into her bag and slung the strap over her shoulder, movements unhurried, almost amused. "My second job."
Stacy blinked. Once. Twice. "Your what?" She stared. "I pay you less than I thought?"
Alexandra was already halfway to the door. She glanced back, smile widening just a fraction. "Ciao."
The door swung shut behind her.
Stacy turned slowly toward Zoe. The two women exchanged a look—confused, curious, and unmistakably intrigued.
"...Second job," Stacy repeated.
Zoe raised an eyebrow. "Yeah. That's definitely new."
---
The café glowed softly in the amber hue of early evening. Warm light spilled across polished wood tables, the hum of conversation weaving between the hiss of steamed milk and the clink of ceramic cups.
Alexandra sat near the back, fingers loosely wrapped around her mug as the barista set down her coffee—dark roast, a hint of caramel. She was just about to take a sip when the door swung open.
And there she was.
Samantha Kingsley stepped inside, city lights spilling through the windows and catching her in a soft glow—a moment suspended between motion and stillness. Her tailored black suit fit perfectly; her hair fell in loose waves over her shoulders, gleaming beneath the café's warm light.
For a second, Alexandra forgot to breathe.
Then Sam's eyes found hers—sharp, purposeful—and the world snapped back into focus.
"Good," Sam said as she approached, setting down her bag and sliding into the seat across from her. "You're earlier than the agreed time."
Alexandra arched a brow. "You're the one who set the time, Samantha. There was no agreement."
Sam gave a small, satisfied smile. "As it should be. You work for me now."
Alexandra smirked. "Right. So, boss, what's on the agenda?"
Sam pulled a neatly folded document from her bag and set it between them. "The reason I hired you. My grandmother wants you at our family reunion next weekend. These—" she tapped the folder "—are notes about my family. You'll need to memorize them."
Alexandra blinked, amused. "Memorize them? Why?"
"For the ruse to work," Sam said simply. "They're smart, especially Nana. She'll see through a fake story in seconds if you're not prepared."
Alexandra leaned back, sipping her coffee. "Can't we just say we met recently and clicked instantly? You know, like normal people?"
Sam raised an eyebrow. "Do I look like someone who gets swept off her feet by a stranger over spilled coffee?"
Alexandra's grin widened. "You'd be surprised what people get swept by."
Sam ignored that. "My family knows me too well. If we're going to pull this off, you need to know who's who."
Alexandra flipped through the papers. "Wow, big family. Oh—lots of cousins."
"Most of them are fine," Sam said. "Except George."
"Why? He's the eldest, right? It says here you're second."
Sam's jaw tightened slightly. "That's the problem. He wanted the CEO position Nana gave me. Ever since then, he's been trying to prove I'm unfit—planting doubts, stirring drama. Nana doesn't buy it, but he's persistent."
Alexandra studied her quietly. "And why did your grandmother choose you?"
Sam went quiet, her gaze dropping to the folder in front of her.
Alexandra noticed the shift and spoke softly. "Hey, if that's too personal, you don't have to answer."
Sam shook her head slowly. "No... you should know. It's part of the family story—part of me."
She drew in a breath, her voice steady but gentler than before. "George was never really fit to lead. Nana saw it early—he's impulsive, childish sometimes. His decisions were always about ego, not responsibility."
Her fingers brushed the edge of her coffee cup, eyes distant. "I spent years proving I could do better. That I was better."
She hesitated then, a flicker of emotion tightening her throat before she continued. "My parents died in a car accident when I was in high school. After that... it was just Nana and me. She raised me, taught me everything I know. She promised she'd make sure I had the life my parents never got the chance to give me."
Sam looked away, blinking hard. "When she handed me the company, it wasn't about business. It was about keeping that promise. And I've been trying to live up to it ever since."
The words lingered in the air, fragile and sincere—a rare crack in the armor of Samantha Kingsley.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The faint hum of the café and the soft clink of cups filled the silence.
Then Alexandra's voice broke through—quiet, sincere. "I'm really sorry, Sam. About your parents."
Sam gave a small nod, her lips pressing into something that wasn't quite a smile. "Thanks," she said. "It was a long time ago, but... sometimes it still feels close."
Alexandra studied her for a moment, the usual sharpness in her tone replaced by something gentler. "They'd be proud of you, you know. You've done everything they'd ever want for you."
For the first time, Sam's expression softened—the corners of her mouth curving, not from confidence or charm, but from something far quieter. "Maybe," she said. "I hope so."
The air between them felt warmer now, quieter—like something fragile had just been shared and carefully kept.
Alexandra nodded gently. "And your Nana, she sounds like an incredible woman."
"She is." Sam's voice was quiet now. "Which is why this whole... act doesn't sit right. But it's only temporary. I'll find a way to tell her the truth later—I just need to get through this reunion without another setup."
Alexandra smiled faintly, setting the folder down. "Alright then. You've got yourself an actress." She winked. "I'll make sure Nana believes every word. You'll be lucky if she doesn't start planning our wedding after."
Sam couldn't help it—a small laugh escaped her before she masked it with a shake of her head. "Let's not push it."
Alexandra raised her cup in mock salute. "To the performance of the year."
Sam smirked, meeting her eyes. "Just don't forget Rule Number Ten."
"No falling in love," Alexandra said, half-sarcastic, half-curious. "Right."
Sam gathered her things, already back in work mode. "I'll call you if I will add more details."
Alexandra leaned back as she watched her leave, a slow smile playing at her lips.
Rule Number Ten, she thought with a slow grin. We'll see about that.