Nathan’s POV

As I pressed the elevator button to head to the VIP ward, I still thought about the beautiful goddess I had seen in the café. Why didn’t I approach her right away? I blew that chance. I sigh and run my hand through my hair.

My grandfather’s room was the largest on the private VIP floor. Corner room, of course. Just like his office at Michaels Investment Group. It would be my office one day, but it is now vacant. Carrington Michaels had a larger-than-life persona. Everything he did spoke of power and dominance. He garnered attention everywhere he went and demanded excellence from everyone around him. When my father passed away when I was 14 years old, my grandfather stepped in to be the father figure I needed. My mother, in her insurmountable grief, had stepped away from me after my father’s death. I had lost both parents the day my father died. I owed everything to this man. Even during my years away at boarding school, he was just a phone call or a plane ride away. He was my inspiration at university, where I earned my doctorate in Economics. He was my rock. When he was diagnosed with cancer 3 months ago, it set my axis off-kilter. He had told me not to worry. He had the best doctors at the best hospital, and “No damn cancer” would take him out.

I opened the door to his room and laughed at the sight that met my eyes. My grandfather was in his flirting stance. I knew it well. His sparkling grey eyes, cocked brow, and grinning smirk were undeniable. I had seen it many times being used on women everywhere. Hell, I think it's where I learned it from. The Michaels charm, people called it. It oozed pure sexuality and got me anything and anyone I wanted.

“Ahem,” I coughed out.

The young twenty-something nurse turned around. “Oh, it looks like you have company, Mr. Michaels.” She smiled.

“Bethany, didn’t I tell you to call me Carrington?” my grandfather mused.

She giggled and touched my grandfather’s arm, then left the room.

“Still at it, I see,” I laughed at my grandfather.

“I’m not dead yet,” he winked.

“You’d probably still be doing it in heaven if you were.” I joked.

He laughed and smiled his debonair smile.

“Ahhhhhh, my coffee. Good boy.” I handed him his coffee and sat in the chair beside the hospital bed.

“So, Grandfather, what did you need to talk to me about so desperately today that you had Samuel reschedule all my afternoon appointments?”

“Well, Nathaniel, I’ve decided that maybe it's time for me to retire as CEO of Michaels Investment Group.” I cringed at my full name; my grandfather was the only one who dared call me by it.

What? I never thought I would see the day. I thought they would carry him out of the office straight to the hearse when he was 99.

“Why now, Grandfather? Is everything ok?” I questioned.

“Nothing to worry about, Nathaniel. Things are improving with the cancer, but I’ve time to think laying here in this damn hospital bed.” He sighed. I know he missed working; it was his life. Long hours and endless meetings were his lifeline.

“You have proven yourself as interim CEO in my absence; I want you to take over as CEO, but…”

I cut him off, “Grandfather, nothing good ever comes after a but.”

“The board of directors is leery of your playboy ways,” he stated. In fact, they are pushing for Alfred to take over.”

Fuck no! Alfred, my cousin, was a bigger playboy than me. He couldn’t keep it in his pants for more than a couple of hours. He only hid his ways behind the premise of being a family man with a wife and the standard two kids. He couldn’t lead worth shit, either! There was no fucking way I was letting him run our grandfather’s company into the ground.

“What must I do, Grandfather, to gain the board's favor?” I asked.

“The answer is simple, my boy. You have until December 31st to get married.”

“You must be joking.” I look at my grandfather incredulously.

“I’m dead serious, Nathaniel,” he answers. “You secure a marriage by New Year’s Eve, or Alfred will be CEO.”

My mind was reeling. How the hell was I supposed to find someone to get married to by December 31st? That’s only 6 weeks away. All the women I had ever been with were disposable. Golddiggers or no one of consequence. This marriage had to look genuine. Where was I supposed to find a girl who looked worthy of marrying?

My thoughts were interrupted by Nurse Bethany entering the room. “Carrington, it's time for your treatment.” My grandfather stood up and walked to the wheelchair.

My grandfather turned to me, “You better get a move on it; the clock is ticking, Nathaniel.” He then sat in the wheelchair, and Bethany wheeled him across the room and out the door.

I sat there for 10 minutes, my mind racing a hundred miles per hour, ticking, ticking, ticking, Nathan. I leaped to my feet and headed to the door. I dialed my phone as I marched down the hall.

Amelie’s POV

I felt better after having a scone, tea, and a good cry. I couldn’t help but feel someone was watching me as I sat in the corner of the café, but when I looked up, I couldn’t see anyone there. I headed to the bathroom to freshen up and wipe my tear-stained face. Oh my god, I looked like a mess. I dug through my purse to find my make-up bag. Luckily, I had a face wipe and proceeded to freshen up.

I headed to the front information desk of the hospital.

“Hi, my brother, Zander Cavanaugh, was brought in earlier, and they said they were moving him to a room. Can you please tell me where his room is?” I politely asked.

“Ah, yes, Zander Cavanaugh, Room 412 on the VIP floor.” She spoke.

“I think that’s a mistake. We can’t afford the VIP floor. Can you please recheck?” I glance at her, puzzled.

“No, that’s his room. We are bursting at the seams today with patients. Dr. Carrera advised the hospital to put your brother on the VIP floor. The hospital is not charging you for the room.” She smiles at me. I start to cry. “Oh, sugar, don’t cry. Go see your brother; everything happens for a reason.”

I whispered a simple thank you and headed toward the VIP elevator. I must remember to thank Dr. Carrera. His generosity had restored my faith in humanity.

I took the elevator to the fourth floor and steadied my breath before stepping out.

Room 412. I stared at the door numbers as I strolled down the hall. 402, 404, 406, 4…thud. What the hell did I just hit? Was there a wall in the middle of the damn hallway? I peered up from the floor. It wasn’t a wall unless a wall had long legs with dress pants.

“Oh no, I’m so sorry, miss!” A large hand reached down to lift me. He lifts me as if I were a feather to him, not one ounce of strain.

My eyes fluttered up; I was met by a wide chest, broad shoulders, and up to his face. I let out an involuntary gasp. How is it possible for one man to be so beautiful? His dark, ebony hair ruffled like he had haphazardly run his fingers through it, and it was lush and thick. His face was like that of a Greek god, with chiseled cheekbones and a squared chin. His lips and nose were perfection. The crowning glory of his face was his steel grey eyes. Like the sky during a rainstorm, but warm and inviting.

“It’s you,” he spoke with a melodic baritone voice

“Excuse me?” I reply. “Do I know you?” I scrunch up my nose and raise my eyebrow in confusion.

“It’s you from the café.”

“I’m sorry, you must have me confused with someone else,” I say, moving around him to continue walking.

He reaches out to gently grab my hand. “Please stay.” He pleads.

“I’m sorry, sir. I don’t know who you are, but I need to see my brother,” I pull my hand from his.

“ At least tell me your name… ” he demands.

Staring at his pleading grey eyes, the words tumble out of my mouth involuntarily. “My name is Amelie.” Then, I continue down the hall to Room 412.

Nathan POV

“Amelie,” I breathe out. Her name was intoxicating on my lips. “Amelie.” A name had upended my life. I wanted to march down the hall into room 412 and take her as mine. I had never had this feeling. Ever. Dr. Nathan Michaels never lost his cool and never pined over a woman, but her magnetic force made me want to possess her, to claim her. Shake your head, Nathan! Have you lost your goddamn mind? The answer was yes.

I approach the ward desk, where a young blond nurse sits.

“Hi, I’m Dr. Nathan Michaels, a visiting physician.” Ok, I lied, but it was necessary. Technically, I was a doctor, not a medical doctor.

“Hello, Dr. Michaels,” she smiles as she blushes. “What can I do for you today?”

I glance at her name tag, “Becky, can I see the chart for the patient in room 412, please, sweetheart?” I say, followed by a panty-dropping grin.

The nurse giggles. “Right away, Dr. Let me just grab it.” She stated as she sashayed away. “There you go, Dr. Anything else I can do for you….” She flutters her eyelashes.

I quickly looked through the chart, pretending to know what I was doing. I handed her chart back, “No, that’s everything…for now.” I wink.

I turned on my heels and headed for the elevators. Quickly, I dialed Samuel’s number. He picks up the phone immediately. “Samuel, I need you to research all the information you can find on Ms. Amelie Cavanaugh and Mr. Zander Cavanaugh. I need the info like yesterday.”

“Working on it right now.” Samuel happily states.

“Thanks, Samuel; let me know when you have any updates. It’s important, crucial.”

“Sure thing, boss,” Samuel replies and hangs up the phone.

Amelie, I thought, I hope you’re ready to become my wife.

Amelie POV

Room 412. I took a deep breath and gently pushed the door open. Zander lays on the bed, attached to several monitors and IV bags. He looks so pale but so peaceful as he lies sleeping. I sit beside the bed and lightly intertwine my fingers through his. I would do anything to help him get through this. There must be a way to get the money.

I gently brush his hair out of his face, causing him to stir and turn toward me.

“Hey, little bro, you know if you wanted to take a break from football, you could have just said,” I joke with him.

“Ame...I’m so sorry,” Zander whispers.

“Why are you apologizing?” I scolded him.

“I know you don’t need this right now. We can’t afford this at the moment. The doctor said we can delay the surgery if I quit my sports and just hang out.”

My heart broke at his statement. I could not let this happen. My brother deserves everything good in the world. He deserves to be an average teen. So much had been taken away from us, and I was unwilling to let this happen to him. I would do everything in my power to afford his surgery. Anything. I would sell my soul if necessary.

“Everything will be okay, Zander. We will make this work.” I hugged him and fought back the tears.

“I trust you, Ame,” Zander says. “You’ve never, ever let me down before.”

“I will get the money somehow, Zander. I can set up a crowdfunding page for you. I’m sure the school will help with the fundraising.”

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 work to make money. I shake my head, eye on the prize, Amelie, and chide myself. Onwards and Upwards.

“AME!” I heard 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 in my chest. 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 a single question. 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. I wrote a half-page summary highlighting my academic achievements, volunteer work, and passion for 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 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 is sitting on the grass at Columbia, and one 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 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 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.

The outfit is 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.