The Hopeless Romantic

Jane fiddled nervously with a button on her silk blouse, the soft fabric a small comfort against her racing heart. Forty-five minutes. She’d been waiting in the opulent Greene Industries lounge for forty-five minutes, and now, it was almost her turn. The last one. This was it. Her dream job. She took a few deep breaths, trying to calm the jittery energy that hummed beneath her skin.
“Miss Beckett.”
The secretary’s voice, cool and elegant, cut through Jane’s thoughts. She rose, her maroon pencil skirt swaying with her movements, and followed the woman down a sleek, modern hallway. The building was a testament to Greene Industries’ power and prestige, a place she had longed to be a part of. Her heels clicked a confident rhythm on the polished marble floors, a stark contrast to the nervous flutter in her stomach.
Then, she opened the door to the conference room and saw him.
