“No,” I admitted with a humorless chuckle.
“Come to my office. Right now.”
Walking into Carter Enterprises felt surreal. Polished marble floors reflected sunlight, glass walls framed endless city views, and every detail screamed wealth and power. I felt out of place in my worn jacket and scuffed shoes.
“Mr. Walker? Ms. Carter is expecting you,” said the receptionist, gesturing toward the elevator.
When the doors opened, there she stood. Eleanor Carter. Arms crossed, sharp green eyes unwavering.
“You came,” she said.
“Yeah,” I breathed, heart pounding.
She gestured to the chair across from her desk. “Sit.”
I did. She studied me for a moment. “You saved me yesterday. You didn’t have to—but you did.”
“It was just a flat tire,” I said.
She leaned back, her eyes locking onto mine. “When you chose to help me instead of yourself, you showed something rare.”
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