Chapter 04

Anna's POV

James's "we need to talk" email kept me up all night. In today's shaky tech world, every out-of-the-blue meeting felt like a layoff notice lurking in the shadows.

Sitting in James's office at Neural Labs, I braced myself. Then he hit me with something I didn't see coming.

"Next Robotics is hiring an executive assistant for their CEO," he said, a smile creeping up. "Reports straight to Adrian Salvatore. Triple your salary, plus stock options."

"Adrian." The name knocked my heart off beat. That night flooded back uninvited—his voice, his touch. I shook my head quick, laughing at myself inside. Ridiculous. That one perfect night was a memory I wanted to keep locked away, not tied to anyone real. There had to be a million Adrians out there. And that smooth, mysterious guy from the bar? No way he was the infamous tyrant CEO.

"Hold up, Anna," James's face turned serious, snapping me back. "Fair warning—this gig's got… quirks. They've burned through nine assistants in three months."

"Nine?" I echoed, disbelief wiping out the name coincidence in a flash.

"Yeah. Brutal workload—think emails at 3 a.m. And…" He hesitated, picking his words. "Adrian's a stickler for detail. Last assistant got chewed out over a misplaced comma."

My eyes drifted to the abstract painting on his wall. Triple pay. Stock options. Direct to the CEO. The words spun in my head, tangling with that jarring "nine."

"I know it's no easy call," James added, leaning forward. "But I put your name in because you're the best fit. Your work here's been stellar. You handle pressure better than anyone I've seen."

He slid a folder across the desk. "Some background. Next Robotics is cutting-edge in AI."

I flipped it open, skimming the company profile. Founded five years ago, a leader in artificial intelligence. Oddly, Adrian Salvatore's section was bare—just a resume, no photo.

"Adrian's big on privacy," James said, catching my frown. "Rarely does interviews or shows his face. Might be why they can't keep an assistant."

"Anna?" His voice pulled me back. "You okay?"

"Fine, just thinking." I closed the folder. "Thanks for the shot, James. I'll chew it over."

"Take the weekend," he suggested. "Let me know Monday?"

They let me clock out early, so I grabbed my stuff. I needed to talk this out, and Mom's restaurant felt like the spot. Maybe she'd have some wisdom. On my way to North Beach, Faith texted.

"Heading to Sarah's," I shot back. "Big job thing to mull over."

Faith pinged instantly: "I'm in. We both need Sarah's zen."

The bell at Leo's Coffee Shop jingled as I stepped in, the smell of fresh-roasted beans hitting me like a hug. Leo peeked up from the counter, gray hair glinting in the afternoon sun. He'd been chasing Mom for years—honestly, who wouldn't? She's gorgeous, graceful, and driven.

"Anna!" He beamed, all teeth. "Perfect timing—just roasted a special batch."

"You spoil me, Leo."

"Hey, how else am I gonna trick your mom into that dinner date?"

His teasing yanked a laugh out of me. "Keep making coffee this good, she might cave."

He handed me a to-go cup, waving off my cash. "On me. Tell Sarah it's my latest blend."

Sarah's Authentic Italian was buzzing through lunch. Mom spotted me right off, dropping everything to hustle over.

"Baby!" She whipped off her apron fast. "You okay? What're you doing here so early?"

"Marco," she called to the kitchen, "Anna's usual, now!"

"Mom, you don't have to—"

"Shh." She steered me to my corner spot. "You look beat. Those tech joints never let you breathe."

"I ate lunch," I protested, sliding into the seat.

She arched a brow, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "Coffee and a protein bar don't count." She squinted. "When's the last time you had a real dinner?"

I held up Leo's cup to dodge her. "Special delivery. He says it's his new sunrise mix."

"Oh." She took it, cheeks pinking just a touch. She sipped, a smile sneaking out. "That man…"

"Says he'd love you at the tasting," I teased. "Needs your expert take on the blend."

"No time for tastings." But her fingers lingered on the cup's edge, thoughtful.

Faith rolled in later, and we crowded the kitchen, Mom's lasagna filling the air with heaven. I laid out the job offer on the counter between us.

"Longer commute," I said, spreading the papers. "But the pay jump's huge."

Mom wiped flour off her hands, peering at the details. "Sounds like a solid chance, honey."

"I was thinking…" I paused, then went for it. "With that salary, I could help you buy this building. The landlord's been hinting he wants to sell."

"Anna," her voice softened, firm but warm, "sweetie, I don't want you twisting yourself up for my dreams. This has to be your future."

"I know, Mom. And it fits my career stuff. It's just…" I bit my lip. "Word is, the new boss, Adrian Salvatore, churned through nine assistants in three months."

Faith, quiet till now, scrolling her phone, snapped her head up. "Wait, what? Adrian? Your new boss is Adrian Salvatore?"

I caught the mischief in her eyes and shot her a warning glare.

"Adrian Salvatore?" Mom glanced between us, curious. "What's with that name?"

"Nothing, nothing," Faith and I chimed in unison, swapping a knowing look.

"Just a rare name," I added quick. "Mom, can you check the garlic bread?"

While Mom ducked to the oven, Faith dragged me into my old bedroom. "That name…" She shut the door, voice low. "It wouldn't be…"

"Cut it," I snapped, stopping her cold. "That night's a memory, not real life. I'm not tying it to anyone—least of all some tyrant boss. Nine assistants, Faith. Nine in three months! I'd be lucky to survive the week."

"But—"

"Besides, a guy that big wouldn't just stroll into a bar…" My voice trailed off, his sleek, mysterious vibe flashing back, a flicker of doubt creeping in.

Faith paced, then stopped, her eyes lighting up—genius or trouble, hard to tell. "Hold up, I've got an idea…"

"What?"