Nathan’s POV

I was finding it hard to concentrate on anything today. Yesterday, I ran into the girl of my dreams. “Amelie,” I purr. The taste of her name on my lips was delicious. I had never been affected by a woman like this before. I needed to know her, to possess her, to consume her. I thought of all the things that I would do to her. How my lips would taste every inch of her body. How I would make her cum repeatedly until I was ready to claim her and slam myself inside her. Oh, how I would mark her with my cum. I was rock hard thinking about it, even though I had jerked off twice in the shower this morning to the vision of her face. I couldn’t get rid of the hard-on that had persisted since I met her yesterday.

“Dr. Michaels? Dr. Michaels?”

I glanced up to find Samuel standing in front of my desk. How long had he been standing there?

“Lost in thought?” Samuel smiles.

If he only knew all the sinful things floating through my mind right now, I’m sure he’d be blushing. “Samuel, any information on the little project I gave you?”

“I have it right here, sir.” He reaches over, handing me a folder.

“Thank you, Samuel, that’s all for now.” I grip the blue folder as he scurries out of my office.

Ok, what’s the 411? I open the folder. Let’s see what you’re all about, Amelie Cavanaugh. How do I make you mine? Hopefully, this information will help me to see what makes you tick. I look at the first page in the folder.

Zander Alexander Cavanaugh

Birthdate: December 11 (age 16)

 in high school

Football team – Quarterback.

Swim team.

Hmmm, a great student. I glance over the rest of Zander’s file quickly and flip to Amelie’s.

Amelie Jane Cavanaugh (Fuck, I love her name)

Birthdate: September 19 (age 20)

Graduated with Honours with distinction from high school. Valedictorian. (Well, well, well. My Amelie is not only gorgeous but intelligent as fuck)

Columbia University – Full scholarship – Business Major with Economics minor – Top of the Class in all courses. (Intriguing, might be helpful)

I skim the other general information about awards, school history, and extracurricular activities.

I flip the page.

Parents – Elizabeth Cavanaugh & Edwin Cavanaugh - DECEASED

Big, bold letters made me gasp. ORPHANED. She lost her parents at 8 years old. My poor baby. Foster homes for children aged 8 – 14 years old. Amelie has been on her own since she was 14. What the fuck! What happened that made her leave foster care? How did she survive with her brother at 14? I ran my fingers through my hair.

“Samira,” I bellow out on the intercom.

“Yes, sir,” Samira responds.

“I need Frank Thompson in my office immediately,”

“Ok, sir. I will let him know right away,” Samira cheerfully says.

Frank Thompson walks through my door 15 minutes later, looking slightly flustered. I give a slight chuckle to myself. Sometimes, I feel like a high school principal when I call people to my office. Everyone is always so worried that they did something wrong.

“Hi Frank, take a seat,” I point towards the chairs in front of my desk. “You’re probably wondering why I called you here.”

“Yes, it’s not every day you’re summoned to the 42nd floor,” he states, a bit stressed.

“I have a special project for you and need your utmost discretion.”

“You know you can count on me, Nathan,” he says, relaxing his shoulders and leaning forward.

“I need you to create a position for university students to shadow my PA for job experience. Set it up as a contest, and the recipient will get $10,000 in school costs. I want the information out today so Amelie Cavanaugh of Columbia University can apply and win.”

“But Nathan…” he says, shocked.

I cut him off. “Is there a problem?”

“No, sir, it will be out today.”

“That is all, Frank.”

Amelie’s POV

I feel so guilty going to school and leaving Zander in the hospital. I should be there for him. I need to be working to make money, but I wanted to be by his side.  I shake my head, eye on the prize, Amelie, and chide myself. Onwards and Upwards.

“AME!” I hear my name being screamed. I see Tiff running across the quad, waving her arms. I wave and smile at her.

“Oh my gosh, Ame. Did you hear the big news?” She questions, panting out the words.

“News? What news?” I cock my eyebrow at her.

“Michaels Investment Group is offering a temporary position for a university student to work with the CEO’s assistant and gain business experience. They are giving a prize of $10,000 to the person who gets the position!” She looks at me with an intense gaze. “Ame! You must apply! You are a shoo-in.”

“$10,000!” My heart starts racing. I have to enter; I have to win. I need that money for Zander!

I was distracted the entire day. I couldn’t get the Michaels Investment Group position out of my mind. To work at such a prestigious firm would look amazing on any resume, but the most considerable encouragement would be the cash. It would help with the cost of Zander’s surgery.

When I got home, I pulled up the Michaels Investment Group website and clicked on the University position link. I filled out all the pertinent information on the application form and hit enter. The next page had one single question on it. Why should we choose you? I stared at it. All I wanted to type was, “If you don’t, my brother could die.” Drama much? Of course, but it was the truth. I decided that wasn’t my best course of action. So, I typed a half-page write-up about my academic achievements, volunteer work, and love of business. I was about to hit send when my finger hovered over the send button. I started typing one last sentence…

This would be a life-altering experience for me. Thank you.

SEND.

Nathan's POV

I was sitting at my desk, staring at the pictures of Amelie in the folder Samuel had given me. One of her is in her high school graduation gown, one of her is sitting on the grass at Columbia, and one of her is working in a soup kitchen. In every single picture, she looked like an angel. A big, huge smile beaming for all to appreciate. I was obsessed.

“Dr. Michaels, Frank Thompson is on line 3 for you,” Samira called over the intercom.

“Thank you, Samira. You can take the rest of the day off,” I told her.

“Thank you, Dr. Michaels. Have a good evening!”

I picked up the phone and hit line 3. “Frank,” I greeted him.

“Nathan, good news. Amelie has already applied for the position. I just forwarded her application. Let me know how you want to proceed.”

“Thank you, Frank. That’s all for now.”

I opened the email Frank had sent me. I read her application. Most of it was standard for an application. The last sentence caught my eye. “This would be a life-altering experience for me. Thank you.” I ran my hand over my five o’clock shadow and then through my hair.

“You have no idea, baby girl,” I smirk.

You.

Have.

No.

Idea.

Amelie's POV

It had been a week since I submitted my application for the Michaels Investment Group position. I know these things take time, but I didn’t have time. I knew it was a long shot to get the position, but I honestly had prayed to every god and every deity and crossed every finger and toe I could.

The ring of the phone drew me out of my thoughtfulness. “Hello,” I answered.

“May I please speak with Amelie Cavanaugh?” The man requested.

“This is she.”

“Well, hello, Ms. Cavanaugh. This is Frank Thompson from the Michaels Investment Group.”

AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH! Ok, Amelie, calm yourself down. “Hello, Mr. Thompson.”

“Congratulations, Ms. Cavanaugh, you have been chosen as a potential candidate for the student position with our company. We hope you can make it in on Friday at 4:00 pm for an interview at the Michael’s Investment Group,” Mr. Thompson asked.

“I definitely can, Mr. Thompson,” I said cheerily.

“I will email you all the details,” Mr. Thompson stated.

“Thank you so much for the opportunity!” I said gleefully.

 “See you tomorrow, Ms. Cavanaugh. Goodbye.” The line went dead.

I could scream with excitement; I AM ONE OF THE FINALISTS! I picked up the phone and dialed Tiff as soon as possible.

“Hey,” Tiff said.

I squealed loudly in her ear.

“What the hell, Ame, are you trying to make me deaf?” Tiff laughed. I could see her mentally rolling her eyes at me.

“I’M A FINALIST!” I squealed.

“A what?”

“I’m a finalist in the Michaels Investment Group!” I danced around the room.

“Oh my gosh! Congrats Ame! What’s the next step?” she asked.

“Well, I have the final interview on Friday at 4 pm. What the hell am I going to wear, Tiff?”

“I’m coming over with a bunch of clothes,” she said quickly and hung up the phone.

Tiff was over in 20 minutes flat with a big box of clothes. We spent the next hour sifting through my closet and the box to find our best outfit. I finally settled on a dark grey pencil skirt with a small side slit and a white dress shirt that accentuated my figure in all the right places, but was not overtly too sexy.

“You know what this calls for…” Tiff smugly looked over at me and lifted her eyebrow.

“You mean?” I responded.

“Yes, bring out those Jimmy Choos!” Tiff was referring to my 5” black patent leather Jimmy Choos. They were my power shoes. My damn girl shoes. I could conquer the world in my shoes. I only ever wore them on special occasions or job interviews. I babied them because, honestly, I had to. I couldn’t afford to replace them, and I shouldn’t have bought them in the first place. They were a total impulse buy, and I ate macaroni and cheese for 3 months to make up for their cost.

Outfit put together. “What do you think, Tiff?” I asked, looking at my reflection in the mirror.

“Girl…If you don’t get the job, at least you’ll snag a husband,” she chuckled.