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9 Chapter 9 The Call of ‘Need Iron‘
The receptionist sputtered. “But–but she never mentioned-”
He nodded. “Ms. Winters,” he addressed the receptionist without looking at her, “clear out your desk. You’re terminated, effective immediately. Security will escort you out.”
“Yes, sir.” Philip nodded, gesturing for me to follow him.
“Neither are you,” I countered, though it wasn’t entirely true. Arthur Sterling was exactly as imposing and cold as the rumors suggested.
“Your phone is ringing again,” he said, his voice deceptively casual. “Aren’t you going to
answer it?”
“Did you ask?” Arthur’s cold question cut her off.
When the elevator doors opened, I was hit with a wall of heat. Someone had propped open doors and set up fans, but the large glass windows magnified the summer sun, turning the floor into a greenhouse.
Need Iron: System restored. Where is your
office?
I paused outside his office, hand raised to knock, when the door swung open.
“Depends on the issue. Two hours, maybe three.”
Arthur Sterling stood there, tall and imposing in his perfectly tailored suit. Up close, he was even more intimidating–sharp features, penetrating eyes, not a hair out of place. The very picture of cold, calculating power.
He remained standing, studying me with an intensity that made me uncomfortable. “You’re not what I expected.”
“Ms. Dubois,” he said, his deep voice betraying nothing of his thoughts. “Or should I call you ‘Need Iron“?”
“Come in.” He stepped aside, gesturing to a chair in front of his massive desk.
With that, he turned and walked toward the elevators, pulling out his phone as he went. Behind me, I heard the receptionist begin to sob.
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The receptionist straightened in her chair. “No technician has checked in, sir.”
Grandson: Call declined. Are you still in the lobby?
“Among other things.” I kept my voice neutral. “Industrial and residential climate systems are my specialty.”
Something flashed in his eyes—curiosity, perhaps. Or suspicion. “Why did you come here today? The real reason.”
“Competence and professionalism are non–negotiable requirements at Sterling Group. You’ve demonstrated neither today.”
I lifted my chin. “I’m here on legitimate business.”
Philip led me to the utility room. “All the tools and equipment should be here. Let me know if you need anything else.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Would you have hired me if I had?”
My phone buzzed again in my pocket. I ignored it, focusing on the man before me. This was the moment of truth.
Fiona recovered first, her laugh too high–pitched to be natural. “Elara, fixing air conditioners? That’s… unexpected. I thought you worked at some coffee shop.”
I took a seat, setting my toolbox beside me. The office was immaculate and minimalist –all clean lines and neutral colors, with floor–to–ceiling windows overlooking the city.
I kept my expression neutral. “I didn’t choose any of those connections. Especially not the marriage part.”
The silence that followed was almost worth the humiliation I’d endured.
“What technician?” Arthur turned to his assistant, annoyed. “Philip, what are you talking about?”
Arthur’s face remained unreadable as he handed back my credentials. “Philip, take Ms.
Dubois to the executive floor. Make sure she has whatever she needs to fix the
system.”
My heart skipped. So it was him. I typed back: Yes. Replacing the compressor now.
Should be done in about an hour.
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“You’ve been caring for my grandmother for over a week now, he stated. “Why didn’t you tell me who you really were?”
“How long will the repairs take?”
“That’s one way to put it.”
Taking a deep breath, I walked down the corridor. Each step felt heavier than the last. This man had the power to either sign our divorce papers immediately or make my life incredibly difficult.
He walked around his desk and sat down, leaning forward slightly. “My grandmother’s health has improved remarkably under your care. The doctor is quite impressed.”
A slight twitch of his lips was his only reaction. “Fair point. And now we find ourselves in an… interesting situation.”
Before I could speak, Fiona slid between us like a snake. “My unfortunate stepsister, Elara. I apologize for her intrusion. She has a habit of… overstepping boundaries.”
The response came quickly: Meet me in my office when you’re finished.
The woman’s face drained of color. “But, Mr. Sterling-”
My fingers hovered over the screen. If Arthur Sterling was indeed “Grandson,” then he’d just witnessed that entire humiliating scene. More importantly, he now knew I was working under his roof as a technician, not the desperate social climber he’d
assumed.
I finished the repairs methodically, testing the system until the air began to cool properly. After cleaning up my workspace and packing my tools, I sent a quick text to
“Grandson.”
Arthur’s gaze never left my face. “And who is this woman?”
His reply was immediate: End of the hallway. Door marked “CEO.”
I almost laughed at the absurdity of it all. Reaching into my bag, I pulled out my work permit and company ID. “That would be me. I’m from Aurora Technical Services. I’ve been standing here for twenty minutes trying to do my job.”
The way she emphasized those last words made me sound like some desperate groupie. I watched Arthur’s expression harden, and I knew exactly what he was
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thinking.
My phone rang at the worst possible moment. I was already humiliated enough standing in the Sterling Group lobby, being dressed down by Fiona and the receptionist. Now I had to fumble for my vibrating phone while everyone stared.
As I moved to leave, Arthur’s voice stopped me. “Ms. Dubois.”
Philip cleared his throat. “The executive floor houses Mr. Sterling’s office and several conference rooms. The control panel for the AC system is in the utility room behind the reception area.”
I met his gaze steadily. “And you’re ‘Grandson.“”
“I came to discuss our divorce,” I said simply. “I need those papers signed as soon as possible.”
“I should warn you–Mr. Sterling is… particular about his environment. The temperature must be exactly 72 degrees. Not 71, not 73.”
I reached for my phone, confused by his sudden change in demeanor. The screen showed an incoming call from “Grandson“-even as Arthur Sterling sat across from me, watching my reaction with calculated intensity.
I was halfway through the repairs when my phone vibrated again.
Left alone, I began my assessment of the system. The problem was immediately obvious–a burned–out compressor and some damaged wiring. Nothing I couldn’t handle, but it would take time.
I silenced the call quickly, but not before noticing the odd look on Arthur Sterling’s face. Had he just tried calling someone who didn’t answer? The timing was too perfect
to be coincidence.
The caller ID made my stomach drop. “Grandson” was calling–Arthur Sterling himself -right as his physical self stood across the lobby, staring at me with those cold, calculating eyes.
“Thank you,” I said, grateful for his professional demeanor.
I didn’t bother looking at her. “Your assumption. Not my reality.”
I nodded. “I understand.”
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“Mr. Sterling,” the receptionist simpered, completely transformed now that the CEO had appeared. “I was just explaining to this… woman that you don’t take unscheduled appointments.”
“Well?” he prompted. “Aren’t you going to answer?”
I turned, meeting his eyes directly. “Yes?”
I typed carefully: Had to silence the call. Already inside the building. Will explain later.
“Is that so?” Arthur’s voice was deep and measured, betraying nothing.
Arthur’s assistant–a tall man with glasses who had appeared silently at his boss’s side -cleared his throat. “Sir, are you still waiting for the HVAC technician? The top floor is unbearable.
I followed Philip to a separate elevator, feeling Fiona’s venomous glare burning into my back. I’d pay for this encounter later, but for now, I’d take the small victory.
“And yet,” he continued, “you’re also supposedly my wife, working as an HVAC technician, and somehow connected to Fiona Dubois, my nephew’s fiancée.”
Arthur’s eyes narrowed as he examined my credentials. “You’re the HVAC specialist?”
Grandson: Are you the technician working on the executive floor?
Arthur leaned back in his chair, studying me with that same unreadable expression. Then he pulled out his phone, glanced at the screen, and looked back at me.
The receptionist scoffed. “She claimed to have an appointment with you, sir. When I informed her she wasn’t in the system, she insisted you would want to see her about a ‘personal matter.”
As we rode up in silence, my phone vibrated with a text message.
*She’s clearly trying to use her connection to me to get to you,” Fiona interrupted, her voice dripping with fake concern. “Ever since my engagement to Caleb, she’s been… unstable. First crashing our engagement party, now this.”
“I’m not here for what you think,” I said firmly. “I’m-”
Philip consulted his tablet. “The air conditioning unit in the executive floor broke down last night. Maintenance called in an outside specialist. They were supposed to
9 Chapter 9–The Call of ‘Need Iron‘
be here thirty minutes ago.”
I stared at the message, uncertain how to respond. This was my opportunity to finally speak with him about our bizarre marriage situation, but somehow the prospect was more intimidating now that I’d seen him in person.
“I’m glad to hear that.”
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