Willa's heart plummeted, and a suffocating wave of dread instantly washed over her.
She sprang to her feet, snatched her recorder, shoved it into her bag, and turned to flee. "Mr. York, it seems it's not a good time for an interview today. Let's reschedule."
"Ms. Vance," Julian's voice slithered up behind her. "If you walk out that door, this interview is gone forever. How will you explain that to your boss?"
Willa froze in her tracks.
He was right. If this interview fell through, she likely wouldn't even pass her probation period.
She needed this job too desperately.
Taking a deep breath, she forced down the rising nausea and slowly turned to face Julian. "Mr. York, what exactly do you want me to do?"
Julian's smile twisted into something far more sinister, radiating the arrogance of a man who held all the cards.
"Tonight, there's a private charity auction on the rooftop. You will accompany me."
Willa stood there, weighing her options for a long time before finally agreeing.
She reasoned that in a public setting surrounded by people, Julian wouldn't dare pull anything too outrageous.
As night fell, Willa stood at the entrance of the banquet hall. Watching the glamorous crowd clinking glasses inside, her underlying anxiety multiplied endlessly.
Julian emerged from the hall, holding two flutes of champagne, and handed one to her.
Willa accepted it politely but didn't take a sip.
"Don't be so tense, Ms. Vance," his hand drifted to her waist, gently pulling her inward. "It's an intimate crowd tonight, but making some connections won't hurt you."
Willa subtly twisted away from his touch, clutching her champagne as she hurried into the hall.
Julian trailed beside her, greeting guests and introducing her along the way.
The gazes aimed at her were filled with assessing, speculative stares, but out of respect for Julian, they remained cordial enough.


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