Chapter 1: The Interview

*Daphne*

“Brianna, I am freaking the hell out!” Daphne told her friend over the phone frantically while persistently twisting the band around her ring finger.

“Trust me, Daph. You know you’re going to nail this interview,” her friend said encouragingly.

Daphne Sullivan, a beautiful twenty five year old college graduate, sat nervously in the front seat of her car while glaring into her rearview mirror to check her appearance for the hundredth time.

Having nothing more than three hours of sleep under her belt, Daphne prayed that she looked better than she felt. Hopefully the espresso and the three layers of makeup she applied was enough to hide just how sleep deprived she truly was.

Unfortunately, there was little to do for her nerves when she finally arrived in front of the large office building near the heart of Manhattan.

The weather had finally turned over and the city had traded in the last of its summer heat for a refreshing gentle breeze. Sadly, it wasn’t enough to allow Daphne to breathe easier. Today was the day she was expected to interview at one of New York’s most well-known Architectural firms; Blackwood Inc..

Its dark metal and chrome exterior was as intimidating as the man that ran the entire empire from within its walls. Alistair Blackwood, also known as the sole male heir to the Blackwood fortune, was a visionary within the architectural world. Much like his father and grandfather before him, the man possessed a skillful talent to design and construct with perfect execution.

Daphne had taken some considerable time studying the man’s work during her last few semesters at school. And needless to say, the girl was utterly...smitten, with Blackwood’s work that is.

Of course, that wasn’t to say that Alistair Blackwood was one of the most stunningly handsome men Daphne had ever seen. Then again, there weren’t that many photographs of the man in general. Apparently, he had very little interest in sitting in the limelight of society from what she could gather.

But, physical looks aside, Daphne had dreamed about getting a chance to study and work under someone as talented as Alistair. However, with all the research she had read up on, Blackwood Inc. did not have an apprentice program. Yet, as luck would have it, word had leaked out that Blackwood was in need of a new assistant ever since his previous one had left on maternity leave.

“But... what if he doesn’t like me?” she asked childishly. “What if I’m not as experienced as what he’s looking for?”

Her friend’s voice blared through the speaker of her cell phone. “Daphne, the man would be an absolute idiot if he were to choose someone else over you,” Brianna insisted. “Now, get out of your car, walk into that building, and prove to Blackwood that you belong there!”

A small smile began to appear in the corners of her mouth. Daphne desperately wished that her best friend was sitting in the seat beside her. She also wished she possessed the girl’s impenetrable sense of self-confidence.

“Sir, yes sir,” she affirmed jokingly.

Daphne ended the call and gave herself one last look in the mirror.

‘You can do this,’ she thought.

She stepped out of her car and made her way briskly towards the large glass doors of the towering building before her. Daphne reached for the handle and quickly stepped inside before her courage abandoned her.

“It’s just an interview,” she commented under her breath.

Yet nothing on earth could have prepared her for the intrinsic world that awaited her beyond the front door. As soon as Daphne stepped inside the main lobby, she was consumed in a sight of unexpected regal artistry. Palettes of gold and creme made up the large space with fine, handcrafted pieces of furniture littered around.

To say it was beautiful was a total understatement. Had it not been for the countless people trekking about while wearing modern clothing, Daphne would have thought she had stepped into a fairytale.

“Oh my God,” she whispered.

This had, undoubtedly, been the work of Alistair Blackwood. The man specialized in the notion using illusions throughout his work. Just when you’d think you knew what you were looking at, you’d quickly discover that you were wrong.

Daphne marveled at the craftsmanship of the scrolled trim that lined the room as she hastily made her way to the elevators. She pressed the appropriate button and was whisked away to the top floor. She knew she was in the right place the moment the doors opened.

Her heart jumped into her throat when she took stock of how many other young women were waiting for their chance to work for Blackwood. Daphne gave a quick scan of the room while making her way up to the reception desk that was being run by a very pregnant looking woman.

“Hello, how can I help you—wait, let me guess. You’re here about the interview with Mr. Blackwood?” she questioned with dry sarcasm.

Daphne offered a kind smile. “I’m afraid so,” she answered. “I take it you’ve been at this all morning.”

The woman rolled her eyes to the ceiling and let out a heavy exhale. “All I can say is that my a** is out of here by noon,” she laughed. “Anyway, what’s your name, Hun?”

“Daphne Sullivan.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Miss Sullivan. I’m Erica. As I’m sure you’ve guessed it, I am the one who is going on maternity leave.” She clicked away at her computer and scrolled through what Daphne could guess was the list of people who were expecting an interview this morning.

“Ah, there you are,” Erica confirmed. “You’re right on time. Mr. Blackwood should be just about finished with his present interview any minute now.”

Daphne nodded her head and turned to make her way over to the sitting area. She tucked herself into one of the corner spots that was still available and fought to keep her nerves under control. Being as inconspicuous as possible, she lifted her eyes up to see nearly every other young woman in the room vigorously checking their appearance.

One would think they were there for a beauty contest much less a job interview...

Suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious about her own appearance, Daphne made a move to reach for her travel-sized mirror in her bag. However, the second she found it, Erica stood up from behind her desk and called out her name.

Everyone turned to glare at her with a mixture of envy and fire. On a pair of wobbly legs, Daphne carried herself past Erica’s desk. Her heartbeat bounced into her ears and began pounding like a drum.

‘Oh God, I can’t believe I’m actually doing this,’ she thought.

With a shaky breath, Daphne reached for the door knob and meekly stepped into Blackwood’s private office. Unlike the main lobby, the decor of the room was drastically dialed down. Although it still held its own regal air of majesty, the color scheme was made up of numerous shades of dark wood. It was almost cozy and, dare she say, inviting?

“Miss Sullivan.”

Daphne snapped her attention towards the direction of the deep, silkened voice that called her from across the room. She choked back the gasp that tried to slip from her mouth and padded over to the large mahogany desk which there sat Alistair Blackwood himself.

All the air seized in her lungs as she struggled to take in the sight that was in front of her. Alastair Blackwood was a vision straight out celebrity magazine. His features were as sharp and defining as the furniture that lined the room. His golden shaded hair was barrel streaked with touches of gray and his eyes...

Daphne was certain they held the unspoken power to compel her into submission.

‘This man can’t possibly be real,’ she wondered.

“M-Mr. Blackwood—”

“Sit down,” he said firmly.

And just like that, Daphne found herself bidding his simple command and bending her legs to sit in the chair opposite his desk. She brought her hands to rest in her lap while her fingers went on to twist the ring on her hand.

Blackwood’s sharp gaze was guided to the nervous tick almost immediately, yet he mentioned nothing of it. Instead, he directed all of his attention on the digital resume Daphne had sent into the company for review.

While his eyes remained locked on the computer screen, she took the rare opportunity to glance about the room once more. As breathtaking as it was for an office, there was very little to discern that it actually belonged to Blackwood. There were no personal photos anywhere to be seen of either his previous projects or his family.

Daphne felt Alistair’s glare flicker back to her person after he was finished scrolling through her resume. She felt her cheeks begin to flush under the weight of his strenuous stare. His crystal blue orbs searched her face while gradually lowering to her fidgeting hands in her lap.

The man let out an exhausted sigh and leaned back in his chair. “Well, Miss Sullivan, I’ll admit that this is a very impressive resume considering the countless others I have glanced through today,” he started cooly. “And you’re certainly one of the very few who’s actually chosen to dress moderately normal.”

A small smile worked her mouth which lasted all of two seconds.

“One would almost think that you had actual intentions of wanting to work here,” he muttered.

Daphne raised a questionable brow. “As opposed to what?”

“Finding a creative and innovative way to get into my pants,” he drawled passively.

The white’s of her eyes gradually grew wide with every passing second. She felt her heart plummet into her stomach. The pinkish hue that had marked her cheeks deepened into a bright red. Her words became jumbled up in the back of her throat, causing her to nearly choke.

“E-Excuse me?” Daphne shifted awkwardly in her seat. “That’s a very crude thing to assume from someone you don’t even know.”

Blackwood tilted his head down, still eyeing her intently. “Oh really? It’s not even eleven o’ clock and so far I’ve interviewed over fifteen young women who all shared the exact same vision in mind,” he commented dryly. “Why should you be any different?”

“Well this just might come as a gigantic surprise to you, but not everyone in the world carries the interest in ‘getting into your pants’, Mr. Blackwood. And although I cannot speak up for those so-called fifteen girls who were in here before me but I can assure you that I am not one of them,” she fired back hotly.

A devilish smirk played at the corner of his mouth. “By all means, Miss Sullivan. Enlighten me on your notable differences,” he snarked.

Oh, how Daphne wanted so badly to smack it off his face. Who the h*ll did this man think he was? Sure, the man was an heir to a billion dollar fortune and one of the most influential architects within the country—but that sure as sh*t didn’t give him the right to look down on people like her.

A large piece of Daphne was trying to tell her to simply get up from her chair and leave. But the need to prove and state her innocence was far too great to be ignored.

“Unlike half the women you’ve interviewed, I at least come with a knowledgeable background in conservational architecture. I could honestly care less about the fact that you belong to the Blackwood family.” She watched his expression soften as she went on. “I’ve spent the last four years studying your work—not your personal love life. And if none of that was enough of a reason...”

Daphne held up her left hand to reveal the antique engagement ring on her finger.

“...I just so happen to be engaged,” she stated.

Alistair fell silent as he focused all of his given attention to the unique ring that circled her finger. The man physically paled at least two shades lighter. It was as though Daphne had just discovered the man’s kryptonite. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat and fought to pull his gaze away.

After a long minute of total awkward silence between the two of them, Daphne lowered her hand back into her lap and sighed.

“You know what? This was a complete mistake and a waste of time for the both of us.” She got up from her seat and grabbed her bag. “

“Miss Sullivan.”

She walked across the room and reached for the door knob. “I hope you find what you’re looking for, Mr. Blackwood.” Because, clearly, it wasn’t her.

“Miss Sullivan, stop!” Alistair shouted and shot up from his desk. “Daphne!”

But the young woman was already far out the door and heading briskly towards the elevators. Daphne had heard Blackwood calling her from his office, but she refused to stop. She refused to turn back and give him any more of her time.

She gathered what was left of her cracked dignity and exited the building with tears glistening in her eyes and her stomach curling in knots.

. . .

Daphne sat in her shared living room, nursing a glass of wine for the last hour and half. Her head was pounding from the amount of times she replayed her miserably failed interview with Blackwood. As soon as Brianna got home, she spilled her entire story, leaving her friend wide-eyed and shocked.

Neither of them could make out Alistair’s strange behavior when it came to Daphne’s engagement ring. But of course, Brianna wanted eagerly to know if Blackwood was as handsome as the news made him out to be. And to Daphne’s dismay, as much as she resented the man for his poor behavior, she had to concede with herself.

“Oh God, Bri. For an older man, Alistair Blackwood is beyond gorgeous,” she told her.

Brianna kicked back her feet and squealed like a child, causing the two of them to break out into a fit of giggles.

*Buzz. Buzz*

*Buzz. Buzz*

Daphne turned her head to find her phone receiving an incoming call. She didn’t recognize the number but decided to answer it anyway.

She placed her wine glass down and placed the phone to her ear. “Hello?”

A deep, rich ‘familiar’ voice came rushing through from the other side of the device, causing a heart-stopping trill of pleasure to shoot right between her legs.

“Miss Sullivan.”

She let out a sharp gasp. “...Blackwood.”