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“No, my name’s not—Never mind. I need to go home now.”
“Give me your number,” I say quickly.
“Why?”
“So I can call you.”
Charlotte shakes her head, her eyes glued to the floor. “That’s not a good idea.”
“Wait—”
“Goodbye, Misha.”
Before I’ve even have a chance to blink, Charlotte is gone.
Chapter 5
Aurora
Imanaged a grand total of two hours’ sleep last night. I’m going to count it as a win, especially considering I was sure the memories of the night’s events would keep me awake for all eternity.
He must have put a spell on me. That’s really the only way I can explain it. One word from him, one tiny command… That was all it took for me to unravel. His voice was intoxicating, a drug I couldn’t resist. Misha created a wonderfully warm haze in my mind. We were strangers, yet I’d never felt safer. With his instructions and heady gaze alone, he made me feel unbelievably sexy and desired and at a total loss of control.
I don’t regret it, but I kind of do. As strange as our encounter was, I feel bitter about the fact that we didn’t have more time together. The curious cat in me wants to know what would happen after. How far would I have let him go? Should I have told him my name? Given him my number?
I guess there’s no turning back now. The chances of us running into each other again are slim to none. I’ll admit it was fun while it lasted. I can’t deny his charm, his mystique, hispower.
Beautiful.
I wish I could spend the rest of the daydreaming about him, but I’m unfortunately running late for my first day. After a quick fifteen-minute rinse, I throw myself into a pair of jeans and bright red sweater. I grab a cup of black coffee from the local Starbucks and chug it, scalding my throat as I race through the streets to get to the nearest subway station. The train is crowded and stuffy, making the sweat I’d worked up ten times worse. By the time I come barreling through the front doors of CyberFort HQ, I look like a madwoman.
“Hello, dear,” a little old lady greets me at the front desk. A name plate sits just in front of her neatly organized pens:Merrybell. She’s got a sweet smile, the corners of her eyes crinkling as she beams. Her white hair is pulled up in a respectable bun, a pair of square glasses making her green eyes appear twice as big. She smells of cinnamon.
“Hi,” I say, trying to catch my breath. “I hope I’m not late. I’m Aurora Foster? I’m interning here starting today.”
“Oh, another intern!” she says with a sweet giggle. “There’s no need to worry, you’re right on time.”
“Thank God.”
“Would you like to come with me? I can show you to your desk. I think the Antonov brothers will be gathering you all soon to make introductions.”
I smile. “That’d be wonderful. Thank you, Merrybell.”
“Please, call me Merry.”
The CyberFort building is massive with at least fifty floors, most of them primarily dedicated to their massive server rooms. The actual offices are on the thirtieth floor and above, hosting the strategy and marketing, accounting, research and development, human resources, and operations departments. Merrybell takes me to the forty-fourth floor where research and development is held.
We step out of the elevator together into a grand, open space. No stuffy cubicles in sight. Instead, large workstations abound with ample seating. It’s clear the higher ups at CyberFort have spent a great deal on the interior design. It’s bright and welcoming, a place I can clearly picture myself working for long hours without getting bored of the view.
A group of young men are gathered by one of the workstations, some of them seated in office chairs while others lean against the table. They seem like a lively bunch, chatting loudly about the weather or the latest PS5 game to be released and so on. None of them pay me any mind, even when Merrybell shows me over.
“Here you are,” she says to me. “Meet your fellow interns, Aurora. This is Charlie, Buck, Lincoln, David, and Timothy.”
I give them all a polite wave and smile. “Hi, nice to meet you.”
“Sup,” Charlie, the loudest of the group, says with a casual tilt of his chin.
“Oh, thank God there’s a chick here,” David says with a light laugh. His hair is dyed an obnoxious neon green. “I was worried it was going to be a real sausage fest.”
