Page 1 of The Physical Attraction Seminar
ONE
LYLA
“It’s okay,Lyla. You’re not getting fired for being fifteen minutes late. No one is going to notice this time,” I mumble under my breath while rushing through the lobby doors.
My heels shuffle against the marble floors while I round the vacant reception desk in a hurry, and my heart drops to my stomach as the four-cup coffee tray I’m holding tilts backward. Time slows as the paper coffee cups teeter back and forth until scorching dribbles spew from the lids. I tense, anticipating the ruin of my white dress, but somehow, the tray straightens out just in time for me to make a beeline down the hall.
The last time I was late to a meeting, I went home and cried myself to sleep for two days straight. Mortifying is the only word I can use to describe the humiliating side glances and muffled snickers from coworkers when I came bursting through the doors of the theater-style conference room and stumbled down the first stairs. It’s been twoyears, and the image stays etched in the forefront of my mind. It doesn’t help that my coworkers won’t let me forget about it either.
I’ve lost count of how many times coworkers have walked past my desk and said, “Hey, Lyla, meeting in an hour. Don’t be late.”
Without fail, a sarcastic wink accompanies the comment, which never fails to send a rush of color to the apples of my cheeks. Since that day, I vowed to myself that I’d do everything in my power to never be late for another meeting again.
This morning, I was on schedule to show up twenty minutes early. Even after my boss sent an eleventh-hour text asking me to pick up coffee on the way into the office.
Then the unspeakable happened.
Something so embarrassing that I’ve spent my ten-minute mad dash to the office coming up with excuses to explain my tardiness. The mere idea of admitting the truth out loud and recounting the details to my coworkers makes me break out into a cold sweat.
What happened was without a doubt the most humiliating experience of my twenty-six years on this planet, and I can still feel the embarrassment lingering as I slow down, struggling to catch the breath I lost three blocks ago. Thetick tick tickof the analog clock sitting above the double doors to the conference room mocks me with each passing second.
As I reach for the cool metal door handle, my breath ceases, trapped within my lungs as I slip through the opening with my back turned to the crowd.
Please don’t be staring. Please, please don’t be staring.
My hand trembles involuntarily as I carefully press the push bar and ease the door shut. In silent desperation, I plead for no one to turn around and notice me. I stand there, shoulders tense and eyes squeezed shut, straining to hear the faint click of the latch over the thundering of my heartbeat before finally releasing my grip.
Please, please, please don’t be staring.
Braving for the worst, I twist over my shoulder and peel open an eyelid. A handful of unfamiliar faces near the back briefly look my way before quickly refocusing their attention on Elliot, who is speaking at the front of the room. His even-toned voice bounces off the walls as he says, “Life as you know it is about to change…”
When I turn my body toward the front of the room, the tension in my shoulders dissolves.
Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.
Over the last few years, Solus Commercial Realty’s team has grown tenfold. Our once quaint, cozy office with familiar faces and a warm, family-style atmosphere now feels unrecognizable. As of late, all-staff meetings have become so packed that finding an open seat is challenging. I quickly scope out the room until I spot familiar dark brown eyes glaring at me.
In the second to last row of the auditorium, Camila, my closest friend, coworker, and roommate, nods toward the empty seat beside her.
“What did I miss?” I mumble, slightly out of breath, as I hand her a lavender oat milk latte before slipping into the seat. After grabbing my paper cup, I carefullyset the tray with my boss's coffee on the floor and draw my focus to the front.
“Nothing yet,” she whispers back between sips. “Elliot’s been on edge all morning. He’s playing it off well, but he’s about to make his big announcement…”
“Do you think we’re getting raises?” I ask optimistically, taking in Elliot’s clean-shaven jawline and thick brown hair. The smell of anticipation lingers in the air as he strides around the open space in front of the podium with his shoulders drawn back. “Last time he wore that blue sweater, we got four percent raises and a Christmas bonus, remember?”
On Monday, Elliot, my direct boss and Solus’ chief executive officer, sent out an all-staff meeting invitation with a vague note saying he has a big announcement to share with everyone. All week, I’ve been trying to pry the details out of him, but he’s refused to budge—claiming there were “legalities” preventing him from sharing the details.
She doesn’t say a word, but her shoulder-length hair sways rhythmically as she nods.
“Raises… it’s definitely raises.”
It’s a little-known fact in the office that Elliot only wears his blue sweater when something exciting is happening. A long-sleeved cable knit in late-May is an unexpected fashion statement, especially when the heatwave we’ve been facing has had temperatures in the mid-eighties.
“When I set out to start this company eighteen yearsago…” Elliot’s voice booms through the room, confident yet relaxed.
Eight years ago, I was a bright-eyed high school graduate who had a desperate desire to flee from small-town Connecticut. Somehow, I managed to convince a friend to let me stay on her couch in the city for the summer, giving me a place to stay while I tirelessly applied for jobs and attended interviews. After two months of rejections and only pennies left in my savings, a glimmer of hope appeared when I discovered an online listing for a personal assistant job.
The pay was abysmal. The hours were long. I didn’t have an ounce of experience. Despite all of that, I barreled through the front door of the Solus office building with all the confidence I could muster and all but demanded to speak with the CEO.
