Tessa had retreated to the back to unpack a new shipment, leaving Winter alone at the counter to organize a display of bookmarks by colour.
The bell above the door jingled softly. Henry re-entered, looking less disturbed than earlier. He spotted Winter and made his way over, leaning casually against the counter. He watched her for a moment, the focused set of her brow, the precise placement of each cardboard rectangle.
"Still finding solace in the Dewey Decimal system, I see," he remarked, a small smile playing on his lips.
Winter didn't look up. "It's predictable. Unlike, say, rogue Alphas or sadistic Lunas." Her voice was flat and dry with sarcasm. An humor or like a hidden joke.
Henry chuckled softly. "Fair point." He paused, then reached into the inside pocket of his jacket. He pulled out a folded piece of thick, glossy paper. "Listen, Winter. Had a chat with my sister, Clara, last night. She works over at Riggs Corporation. Big place. Huge."
He unfolded the paper and slid it across the counter towards her. It was an advertisement, dominated by a striking photograph. A man stood confidently in a perfectly tailored blue tuxedo, one hand casually tucked into a pocket, the other resting lightly on a sleek glass desk. Dark blonde hair, impeccably styled, framed a face that was all sharp angles and commanding presence. But it was the eyes that arrested her. Deep, fathomless blue, staring directly into the camera lens with an intensity she couldn't place a finger on. Darren Riggs, CEO, the caption declared in bold, elegant typeface beneath the imposing image.
Winter's hand stilled over the bookmarks. Her gaze locked onto the photo. The presence emanating from the paper was easily noticeable. A catchy posture. An aura. Confidence, power, and an unsettlingly magnetic attractiveness. She traced the line of his jaw with her eyes, momentarily forgetting the counter, the bookmarks, Henry.
"Impressive, right?" Henry said, watching her reaction. "Riggs is practically a legend in the financial sector. Anyway, Clara mentioned they're scrambling. Need a data analyst. Urgently. Something about a major internal systems overhaul."
Winter remained silent, her green eyes glued to Darren Riggs's deep blue ones. He looked… untouchable. And impossibly handsome. The tailored tuxedo only emphasized his lean, muscular build.
"Winter?" Henry prompted after a beat. He tapped the counter lightly near her hand. "You still with me?"
She blinked, pulling her gaze away with effort. "Hmm? Oh. Riggs. Yeah. Big deal." Her voice sounded slightly distant.
Henry leaned closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "I know you studied data analysis. Top of your class, before… well, before things got complicated. Clara said they need someone sharp, someone who can dive into messy datasets and find patterns. Immediately thought of you."
Winter finally tore her eyes fully from the captivating CEO and looked at Henry, skepticism hardening her features. She pushed the advertisement flyer back towards him. "Henry, be serious. Riggs Corporation isn't just any company. It's the pinnacle. They hire Ivy League prodigies and people with generational wealth connections. Not... not people like me." The self-deprecation was a well-worn shield. "I organize bookmarks and dodge trash duty. I wouldn't even make it past the automated resume screener. They'd take one look at my background – zero experience, adopted by a family of wolves, no relevant corporate experience – and hit delete so fast it'd break the sound barrier." She crossed her arms, a defensive gesture. "Thanks, but no thanks. I'll stick to the predictable chaos here."
Henry didn't take the paper back. Instead, he picked it up and held it out to her again, his expression earnest. "Winter, stop. Stop defining yourself by what you think they'll see. You're smarter than half the wolves in any pack, and you know it. You thrived in those classes. This isn't about charity; it's about talent." He pushed the paper firmly into her reluctant palm. "You keep dodging anything new, anything that feels too big, and you'll stay exactly where you are. Organizing bookmarks. Taking out Sable's trash. Is that really the life you want? Hiding in dusty corners?" His hazel eyes held hers, challenging her. "Give yourself a chance to experience something else. Broaden those skills you worked so hard for."
He smiled then, a warm, encouraging expression that crinkled the corners of his eyes. "The interview," he said, his voice dropping to a playful whisper, "is tomorrow. Ten AM sharp. Don't worry about here." He jerked his head subtly towards the back room. "I'll cover for you. Tessa won't know a thing."
Winter's lips twitched, the ghost of a smirk breaking through her. She glanced towards the back, then back at Henry, lowering her own voice to match his conspiratorial tone. "She better not. I just recovered from her last nagging session about the misplaced fantasy section. My ears are still ringing."
Henry chuckled. "Consider her blissfully ignorant. My Gamma charm will ensure it."
Winter looked down at the paper now clutched in her hand. Her thumb brushed over the smooth surface, just below the image of Darren Riggs. His blue eyes seemed to bore into hers even from the page, intense and unnervingly focused. The tailored tuxedo, the aura of absolute control, the pure, unexpected beauty of the man… it was distracting. Profoundly distracting.
Her gaze remained fixed on the photograph, her mind momentarily blanking on rogue attacks, pack politics, and her own struggles. "But… why is their CEO so fucking hot?"
Henry burst out laughing, a rich, genuine sound that bounced in the quiet bookstore. He shook his head, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Priorities, Winter. Focus on the job description, not the… corporate benefits package."
Winter felt a faint flush creep up her neck, but she didn't look away from the photo. The image of Darren Riggs, powerful and impossibly attractive, was now seared into her mind. Tomorrow at ten AM. The thought was equal parts exhausting and paralyzing.