She Drops Her Files In A Busy Lobby, Not Knowing The Millionaire Who Helps Will Fall For Her
The Lobby Encounter and the First Leap of Faith
Cara Nalan’s left heels snapped the moment she stepped into the marble lobby of Halston Tower. The universe clearly wanted her to suffer.
Papers flew everywhere. Her portfolio, résumés, mockups, and reference letters scattered like confetti across the gleaming floor.
She dropped to her knees with a gasp. Her tote bag slid off her shoulder as people stepped around her like she was invisible.
“Great, just great,” Cara muttered, her heart pounding like a drum line.
She had exactly six minutes until her interview on the 30th floor. This was her only shot at landing a marketing assistant job at one of the most prestigious firms in Manhattan.
Now she looked like a disaster. A pair of tan leather shoes stopped in front of her.
“Are you okay?” a deep voice asked.
She looked up and her breath caught. The man crouching beside her looked like he just stepped out of a GQ magazine.
He had dark hair, a sharp jaw, and a navy suit tailored to perfection. His warm brown eyes studied her with concern.
“I’m fine,” she said quickly, reaching for her papers.
“I just… my heel broke and then everything just uggh.”
He was already scooping up her pages, moving fast. Neat little stacks appeared in his hands.
“You’re bleeding.”
“What?”
She looked down at a scrape on her palm she hadn’t even noticed.
“Don’t worry,” he said, pulling a crisp white handkerchief from his inside pocket.
“Here.”
She blinked.
“You carry a handkerchief?”
“I carry a lot of things,” he said with a half-grin, pressing it into her hand.
“Let me help you up.”
He stood and offered his hand. She hesitated only a second before gripping it. His hand was warm and strong.
He pulled her to her feet like she weighed nothing.
“I’m Cara,” she said, suddenly aware of how ridiculous she probably looked.
She was sweaty and wind-blown, with one heel broken and blood on her hand.
“Victor,” he said, his voice smooth. “Victor Fairbanks.”
Her breath caught again. Fairbanks as in Fairbanks Capital? No, no way.
He wouldn’t be walking around picking up strangers’ papers on the lobby floor.
“I’ve got it from here,” she said quickly, stacking the papers into her tote.
“You’re heading up to Sterling and Branch?”
She blinked.
“How did you—”
He motioned to the top page of her resume.
“Your folder’s open.”
“Oh.”
Her cheeks burned.
“Yeah, I have an interview.”
His eyes scanned her face.
“You’ll be late if you try to walk in those.”
She looked down at her broken heel then back up.
“Yeah, I’m hoping they’ll pity me.”
He chuckled, and it was low and warm. It did something ridiculous to her stomach.
“Or you could let me help.”
He turned toward the concierge desk.
“Thomas, call up to 30. Tell them Miss Nalan had a minor fall, but she’s on her way.”
The concierge nodded immediately. Cara stared.
“Wait, how did you—”
“I own the building,” Victor said simply, turning back to her.
“And I know the CEO of Sterling and Branch. You’re not missing this interview.”
She blinked.
“You own Halston Tower?”
He nodded.
“Among other things.”
“Oh my god,” she whispered.
He smiled like he was used to that reaction but didn’t particularly like it.
“Let me walk you up.”
“I… I can’t let you do that.”
“Why not?”
His tone was easy, like he wasn’t the most powerful man in the room.
“Because you’re… you’re Victor Fairbanks.”
“And you’re Cara Nalin. Come on,” he said, gesturing toward the elevators. “I’ll make sure you get there.”
They stepped into the private express elevator. He swiped a black card and the doors closed behind them.
It was silent except for the soft hum of the rising floors.
“You’re overqualified for an assistant job,” he said, glancing at her resume again. “Why are you applying for this?”
She hesitated.
“Because I need the job. It doesn’t matter what it is.”
He handed her back the folder.
“You’re brave showing up like this.”
“Brave or desperate?” she muttered.
He looked at her for a moment.
“I like brave.”
The elevator dinged. Floor 30. She stepped out into the waiting area, nerves rushing back in.
Before the doors shut again, Victor said, “Good luck, Cara.”
She turned back.
“Thanks for everything.”
He nodded once as the doors slid closed.
