The next morning, I arrived early. I liked quiet mornings, when the city was still waking up were there's no ringing of phones, no distractions, just space to breathe and think… The office was calm. It was the perfect time to plan, and prepare.
And today, I needed all the preparation I could get.
At exactly 8:30 a.m., Aidan Blackthorne was scheduled to meet me for their first one-on-one strategy session. I had a full plan printed and ready, complete with key talking points, suggested appearances, and a social media schedule. Everything was organized. Everything made sense.
What didn't make sense here was the man himself, tss…
I did a full background sweep on him overnight. I don't go into these things blind." I spent the night reading everything, I did a full background sweep on him— business reports, interviews, even old college articles. Aidan was smart, no doubt. He'd started his first company at twenty-three and sold it for millions. Now, at thirty-three, he owned several companies, a private island, and half of downtown. But he also had a long list of broken business deals and even longer list of broken hearts.
Not that I cared about the hearts.
Still, I wasn't used to clients who looked like movie stars and smiled like trouble.
At 8:32, my office door opened. Aidan stepped inside, coffee in hand. "Hope I'm not too late."
"Two minutes," I said without looking up. "I'll let it slide."
He smiled and sat down across from me, looking far too relaxed for someone with a PR crisis. "You know, most people seem nervous around me. But not you."
"I'm not here to be impressed," I said, handing him a folder. "I'm here to fix your reputation."
He flipped it open. "So what's the plan?"
"We start by showing a different side of you," I explained. "Less yacht parties, more charity work. Public appearances at serious business events. Interviews where you talk about long-term goals, not luxury vacations."
Aidan raised an eyebrow. "You want me to be boring."
"I want you to be believable."
He laughed. "And you think anyone's going to buy that?"
"If we do it right, yes."
He leaned forward, suddenly serious. "Look, Sophie… I'm not a bad guy. I just don't like pretending. If I say I care about something, I want it to be real. Not fake smiles for the camera."
I paused. That wasn't what I expected.
"Then find something real to care about," I said quietly. "We don't need to fake it. But we do need to show the world a version of you that's honest, not reckless."
Aidan stared at me for a moment. "Has anyone ever told you you're kind of scary?"
"Only the ones who've tried to charm me," I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm.
He chuckled. "I like you, Sophie."
She didn't answer. Words like that meant nothing — especially from guys who threw them around like cheap perfume. And this one was full of it. The fake smile, the smooth talk — he was exactly the kind of guy she expected, it almost made me laugh. What I am feeling right in my stomach wasn't excitement. It was pure disgust.
Then I looked at him with a low voice .
"I'm actually kind of disgusted by those words," I whispered.
"If you don't mind, shall we continue?" I ask with a smirk.
"I booked a visit to a children's tech foundation next week," I said, changing the subject. "They help kids from underfunded schools learn basic tech skills — things like using computers and building simple gadgets. These kids really need support to get access to proper education and resources. It's a cause that fits your business background. We'll get some photos, maybe a short interview."
"I like that," he said slowly. "That's actually… a good idea."
I looked at him. "See? Not everything has to be a performance."
Aidan gave me a look I couldn't quite read. "Maybe you'll end up fixing more than just my reputation."
I didn't answer. My heartbeat was annoyingly loud in my chest, and my eyebrows knit tightly together in a sharp scowl, clearly showing my frustration and anger at his words.
---
The rest of the week flew by quickly, filled with meetings, phone calls, and events that I had planned carefully. To my surprise, Aidan didn't complain much about the busy schedule. He still made jokes all the time and tried to flirt when he thought I wasn't looking, but he was also on time for everything. He actually paid attention during meetings and seemed to want to do a good job. I hadn't expected him to be this serious, but it was clear he was trying.
One evening, after a long photo shoot at one of his company's new tech labs, we ended up waiting for a car together.
The air outside was cool, I hugged my blazer tighter around me.
"You cold?" Aidan asked.
"I'm fine," I said quickly, not wanting to admit it.
Without asking, he took off his jacket and draped it over my shoulders. It was warm and smelled faintly like expensive cologne and something else — something that made my heart skip a beat.
"Thank you," I whispered.
He looked down at me. "You don't let people take care of you much, do you?"
I blinked. "What's that supposed to mean?" I didn't expect his question.
"I mean, you're always in control. Always calm, always perfect. Don't you ever get tired?"
I looked away. "I like it. It keeps things simple."
"But life isn't simple," he said softly. "Not really."
I didn't answer.
Our car arrived, and we got in. But for the rest of the ride, neither of us talk much. The silence wasn't uncomfortable. It was thoughtful. And a little dangerous.
---
Later that night, back in my apartment, I stood by the window and looked out at the city lights. This job was supposed to be just another project. Fix the image, move on. But Aidan Blackthorne wasn't just another client. He was different. And for the first time in a long time… "Sophie Navarro you must feel something you wasn't used to. Don't let your guard down to a professional playboy!"