Chapter 3: What the Smile Was Hiding
He sat back down and folded his hands on his knee like nothing had happened.
"Where were we?" he said.
"You were asking about me," I said.
"But I think I should be asking about you."
He tilted his head.
"Oh?"
"That call." I kept my voice even.
"You said she doesn't know anything.
Who were you talking about?"
A beat of silence.
Lily was still pressing stickers onto my folder, humming quietly to herself.
"Business," Ethan said.
"Nothing that concerns you."
"You looked at me when you said it."
His jaw moved.
Just slightly.
"You're perceptive."
"I'm broke and I just lost a job interview," I said.
"I'm paying very close attention to everything right now."
Something crossed his face — not quite a smile, not quite respect.
He looked at Lily again, then back at me.
"The position," he said.
"Senior analyst.
You applied three weeks ago."
"I did."
"Your résumé was flagged before you were even called in."
I went still.
"Flagged how?"
"Someone on my hiring committee pulled your application and moved it to the bottom of the stack.
Twice." He paused.
"I only saw it because my assistant printed the full list by mistake."
My hands tightened around the folder.
"Who flagged it?"
He didn't answer immediately.
He reached into his jacket pocket and produced a business card.
He held it out but didn't let go when I reached for it.
"Come to the office at two o'clock," he said.
"Not as a candidate.
As my guest."
I looked at the card.
Then at him.
"Why?"
"Because I want to know who you are before I decide what to do about what I found." He released the card.
"And because Lily hasn't let go of your sleeve for the last ten minutes."
I looked down.
She hadn't.
Her small fingers were still curled around the cuff of my coat, stickers forgotten.
"Will you come?" he asked.
I should have said I needed to think about it.
I should have asked more questions.
Instead I heard my mother's voice in my head — the one she used when she was exhausted and the rent was three weeks late — *Clara, when a door opens, you walk through it.*
"I'll be there at two," I said.
He stood, lifting Lily into his arms.
She reached over his shoulder and pointed at me.
"Daddy, can Clara come to our house too?"
"Maybe someday," he said.
"I want her to meet Grandma Ruth."
Something flickered across his face so fast I almost missed it.
Not warmth.
Something closer to pain.
"We'll see, sweetheart."
He carried her toward the exit.
At the door, he turned back once.
"Two o'clock, Ms.
Bennett.
Don't be late this time."
I stood in the middle of the station holding his business card, my résumé folder covered in purple butterfly stickers, and a feeling I couldn't name sitting low in my chest.
I pulled out my phone and searched: *Whitmore Capital Group — leadership team.*
Ethan Whitmore.
CEO.
Appointed eighteen months ago following the sudden retirement of founder Gerald Whitmore.
I scrolled further.
There was a second name listed under the board of directors.
Chief Operating Officer.
*Derek Paulson.*
I didn't know why the name made me uneasy.
I read it again.
Then I noticed the small line beneath it: *Previously served as Head of Human Resources, 2019–2023.*
Head of Human Resources.
The department that had told me, without hesitation, that they could not reschedule.
The department that had flagged my application.
Twice.
I stood there in the middle of the station while commuters pushed past me on both sides.
Derek Paulson had been in HR.
Now he was COO.
And someone had buried my application before Ethan ever saw it.
My phone buzzed.
An unknown number.
I answered.
"Ms.
Bennett." The voice was male.
Smooth.
Unhurried.
May you like
"I heard you had quite a morning.
I'd strongly suggest you don't keep that two o'clock appointment."
