No Second Chances Ex-husband (Lauren and Ethan) novel Chapter 69

LAUREN'S POV

“Miss. Lauren, I'll like to introduce you to the CEO of Hale Industries, Roman Hale,” the manager said.

And immediately, my heart dropped.

I couldn’t even hide the disappointed look on my face. My lips parted slightly, and I felt my throat go dry as if all the moisture had been drained out of me in one sharp pull. It would have been easier, so much easier if he had been anyone else. If he were just the IT guy, the one fixing wires in the back office. If he were a coworker, another person hustling day to day. At least then I could tuck away what happened between us into a box labeled “mistake” and shove it into some dusty corner of my memory.

But this? This was far worse than anything I had braced myself for.

I should have seen the signs last night. The bodyguards, the special VIP treatment, the way the staff at the club seemed to recognize him instantly, it all screamed power. Status. Untouchable wealth. My instincts had whispered that he wasn’t just some random guy enjoying a night out, but I’d ignored that voice. My mind had built a wall, a comforting lie, something to keep me from seeing the truth that had been right in front of me the entire time.

And now here I was, sitting in an interview, realizing that I had just slept with my boss.

My pulse pounded in my ears, a steady drumbeat of panic.

“Miss. Lauren,” the manager’s voice cut through the fog in my head, dragging me back to the present. I blinked rapidly, realizing I had frozen mid-thought, still staring at him.

“What’s with the disappointed look?” she asked, her tone laced with curiosity.

I didn’t even have time to form an excuse. My eyes, traitorous and uncontrollable, slid toward Roman. He was already watching me. Watching me with the kind of satisfaction that made my skin prickle. His lips curled into a faint smirk, not mocking exactly, but filled with an unspoken amusement. The joy in his eyes was obvious, and I knew — God, I knew that he could see the embarrassment written all over my face.

This wasn’t just about the one-night stand anymore. No, this was worse.

I had insulted him. Last night, in my drunken mix of honesty and stubborn pride, I had bruised his ego. I had thrown sharp words at him without knowing who he truly was, without realizing that fate or whatever cruel hand was pulling the strings of my life would place him in the position of my future boss.

Why does fate keep doing this to me? Why does it feel like the universe has made me its personal punching bag?

For a brief moment, after divorcing Ethan, I had thought things would finally start to shift in my favor. That cutting him out of my life would mean peace, or at least the possibility of building something new without constant betrayal shadowing my every step. I thought happiness was finally within reach, that maybe I could start breathing without waiting for the next disaster.

But now this.

The irony wasn’t lost on me. Just when I thought I was free, I found myself trapped in a new kind of storm.

Some part of me screamed for her to stay. I wanted to grab her wrist, beg her not to leave me alone with him. Because I knew what would come next

Awkward silence.

And as the door slammed shut behind her, that was exactly what happened. Silence so loud it echoed inside my skull. We both just sat there, suspended in that suffocating stillness. My head lowered, eyes fixed firmly on my lap, because the thought of meeting his gaze directly was unbearable. I couldn’t bear the embarrassment, the vulnerability that came with letting him see the storm of conflict raging inside me.

“Well, isn’t this ironic?” His voice finally broke the silence, smooth yet sharp enough to cut through me.

I swallowed hard, my pulse hammering in my throat. Enough. I couldn’t let him control this narrative. I couldn’t keep sitting here like a scared child, waiting for his judgment. I had made up my mind, I was going to tell him exactly what was on it. If that got me to lose the job opportunity, then so be it. At least I’d leave with my dignity intact.

“Look, Roman,” I began, but the name slipped out too easily, too familiarly. My stomach twisted as I realized my mistake. He wasn’t just the jerk I met at a club 24 hours ago and more. He was my boss now, well soon to be my boss if I get the job, and I couldn’t afford to forget that.

I stopped mid-sentence, biting back the frustration bubbling inside me. I let out a small sigh, straightening in my seat as if better posture could make my words more appropriate. I adjusted myself, forced my tone to be steady, respectful, and professional.

“Sir,” I corrected myself softly, “I know I said some things yesterday that you may not have liked. And I know, regardless of what we shared last night, you’re going to get back at me one way or another. So please, let’s both save ourselves the trouble.” My voice trembled, but I pushed the words out anyway, determined to make him hear me. “You can just send me away immediately. I won’t take the job.”