Page 22 of Beautiful Storm

I walk away as the name Damien flashes across my screen and an image of his smiling face flashes across my mind. “I’m taking a shower,” I say, refusing to speak to the man otherwise known as my dad. I’ve reached my quota of dealing with estranged men from my past. I’m done.

Ispend Sunday watching my music videos on repeat, hoping to remind myself of what I’m capable of. To acknowledge what my new bosses saw in me.

My plan was to build myself up so I could walk—no, stride—into my new workplace with the confidence to blow them away. And by Sunday night, I’m good.

But come Monday, my confidence is shot and I find myself rushing around—despite being early— and working myself into a sweaty mess.

“Excuse me,” someone calls out as I walk past reception, pulling me to a halt. Apparently I’ve also become a rude person.

“God, I’m sorry.” I stop, spinning around to walk back to her. “I’m Amelia. I just—”

“You’re our new director,” she says with a beaming grin. “We’re so happy to have you here. I loved your music video for ‘Is This All Life Is.’ I’ve played it a hundred times.”

My chest tightens with emotions as some of the tension leaves my body.

“Thank you,”—my eyes flash to her name badge—“Jennifer. Any gossip I need to know before I walk through those very expensive and very official-looking doors?” I’m not kidding; the doors look like they’re made out of pure mahogany with solid gold trim.

Jennifer laughs. “So much. I could talk for hours. But don’t let the doors fool you. It’s a front. It’s what they want you to see. At the end of the day, it’s just wood.” She lifts her shoulder in a half shrug and I instantly like her.

“Thanks. I needed that.”

“You’ve got this.” Her smile widens. “Don’t letanyonetell you otherwise. You’re talented.” She glares at something over my shoulder, and I’m about to question her when we’re interrupted by a grumpy-looking man in a well-pressed business suit who does notlook in the mood for gossip. “I’ll buzz you in,” Jennifer tells me with a subtle eye roll. “Let’s talk later.”

I nod as I walk through the doors and into the elevator, hoping the man isn’t coming inside. But no such luck. He follows me in, standing dead center, his presence filling the small space.

“Can you please press for level eight?” I ask instead of trying to reach around him.

“It’s already done,” he replies tersely, and…Great. He’s going to my floor.

“Thank you.” I smile politely but he’s not looking my way. Nothing like an intimidating figure to increase my nerves on day one.

When the doors open on level eight, I follow the man through the halls, both of us walking through the glass door to the conference room. He sits down next to the head of the table, while I take a seat across from him, keeping my smile locked in place when he gruffly looks my way.

“Tom and Jim will be here shortly,” a woman I don’t know tells us as she pops her head into the fishbowl. “Can I get either of you something to drink?”

“Yes,” the suit guy says, his eyes now set on his phone. “I’ll take a cold-pressed drip coffee, strong, with a dash of caramel. A dash,” he repeats and I internally wince at his tone.

The woman doesn’t even frown before turning to me. “Is water okay?” I ask, noting the smallest hint of a smile.

“Of course. I’ll be back with both.”

She walks away and within a minute, the room fills and my new bosses arrive, taking a seat before they’ve said hello. Suit Guy nods and smiles, and they have some kind of silent exchange before one of the executives, Tom, clears his throat and launches into the meeting.

“We met with a couple of the big networks last week, and Susie’s put together a filming schedule to ensure we meet our deadlines.” The woman from before rushes in and places somedocuments down in front of each of us as another woman follows her in with a tray of drinks.

Tom ignores them both as he continues on. “Jake, we’ve got you on the Hallawell Project, and Amelia…” He trails off when his business partner, Jim, gets his attention. “I almost forgot. Everyone, this is Amelia. She’s starting with us today. Can you all say hi?”

I smile as a collection of greetings comes my way, and Tom nods with a warm grin, easing more of my tension.

“We are very excited to have you on the team, Amelia,” he adds, making my smile widen, forcing me to work hard not to let my giddiness show.I’m a professional. I need to stay professional.

“Tom isn’t wrong,” Jim says, smiling back at me. “Amelia’s work on the Chasing Lies music videos is phenomenal, and if you haven’t viewed them, I suggest you rectify that immediately. Susie can send you a link.”

“Oh my God. Thank you,” I blurt out, ignoring the discomfort in my chest at the mention of my ex’s band. “I can’t wait to start. I’m ready to get my hands dirty.” I smile brightly and internally cringe. What was that?So much for not letting theenthusiasm show. But how is this real?Yes, it’s what I’ve been working toward since I was a teenager, but I honestly didn’t expect it so soon.

Jim smiles again, and a little part of me wonders if that’s a good or bad thing. I thought production executives were supposed to be scary. “I’m not going to lie,” he says—andhere it is,I think—“as everyone here will tell you, some of our shows are bigger than others, and they may not be what you were expecting, but I can promise we have big plans for you. And first up isProject Storm.”

“Project Storm?” I ask, trying to remember all the projects I’ve been reading about since they offered me the job. I’m ninety-nine percent sure thatStormwasn’t listed in the bible they gave me. I would have remembered that because, like now, it would have made me think of Luke and his damn football team. “It wasn’t on the—”

---