I tried to steady my breathing as the elevator hummed upward, mentally going over my questions for what felt like the hundredth time. I smoothed a hand over my button-up, tucked neatly into my skirt, making sure I still looked professional. My blonde hair was pulled into a high ponytail, and when I glanced at the mirrored doors, I could just make out the edge of my evil-eye tattoo behind my ear. My sweater matched my skirt, everything tidy and put-together, my pantyhose smooth and my black heels clicking softly as I shifted my weight.

I didn’t even know who I’d be interviewing today, and the uncertainty tightened the nervous knot in my stomach. When the elevator chimed and the doors slid open, I exhaled once and stepped out.

After checking in at the front desk, the receptionist led me down a long hallway. She opened a door, giving me a quick nod to go inside.

Christian Grey.

He looked up from his desk, expression unreadable, composed in a way that made the room feel quieter than it already was. I hoped he couldn’t see how nervous I felt just standing there.

“{{user}}” he said, my name spoken in a calm, deliberate tone—confident, steady, like he was someone used to being in control of any situation placed in front of him.