She pushed harder.
“Come on. Don't you dare die here.”
At 10:03, sirens screamed in the distance.
At 10:04, paramedics arrived.
“Step back!”
Emma moved away.
Two paramedics dropped beside the man.
One began preparing an AED.
The other looked at Emma.
“Were you performing CPR?”
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“Three minutes. Maybe four.”
“Good job.”
The AED beeped.
“Clear!”
Everyone stepped back.
The machine delivered a shock.
The man's body jerked.
The paramedic checked his pulse.
“Got something.”
Emma's knees nearly gave out.
The paramedic looked at her.
“You saved his life.”
Emma looked at the man.
Then at the scattered papers.
Then at her phone.
10:08.
Her interview was over.
She picked up the leather folder.
The recommendation letters were wet.
Her resume had mud on it.
The speech she had practiced all night was smeared with rain.
Emma stood motionless as the ambulance doors closed.
The vehicle pulled away.
Her future had just driven away with it.
She sat on a cold bench.
Rain tapped against the pavement.
Her eyes burned.
She didn't cry.
Not yet.
She couldn't afford to.
At 10:19, her phone rang.
Unknown number.
Emma stared at it.
Then answered.
“Hello?”
A deep male voice spoke.
“Miss Blake?”
“Yes.”
“My name is Daniel Mercer. I'm Richard Weston's chief of staff.”
Emma froze.
Richard Weston.
The founder of Weston & Co.
Daniel continued.
“The man you helped this morning was Richard Weston.”
Emma's heart stopped.
She stared at the rain.
“No.”
“Yes.”
Her breathing became uneven.
Daniel's voice softened.
“And he's asking to see you.”
Emma swallowed.
“Tonight?”
“Immediately, if you're available.”
She almost laughed.
“Mr. Mercer, I don't think you understand. I was supposed to interview with Weston & Co. at ten o'clock.”
“I understand.”
“I missed it.”
“I know.”
“I saved a stranger instead.”
“He knows.”
Emma frowned.
“How?”
Daniel paused.
“Because he was conscious for part of it.”
Emma stared at the street.
“What?”
“He regained consciousness in the ambulance. He remembers your voice.”
Emma didn't know what to say.
Then, suddenly, another voice shouted in the background.
“WAIT!”
Daniel went silent.
“Don't tell her about the daughter!”
Emma's eyes widened.
“What daughter?”
A sharp click.
The call disconnected.
Emma stared at the phone.
The rain kept falling.
And for the first time that morning, Emma realized something.
The man she had saved wasn't just a billionaire.
He was hiding something.
And somehow, she had just stepped into the middle of it.
Richard Weston
At 6:40 that evening, Emma stood outside Weston Tower.
The building rose forty-two stories above Boston.
Glass.
Steel.
Marble.
Money.
Everything about it seemed designed to remind ordinary people that they were ordinary.
Emma looked down at her shoes.
She had cleaned the mud from them.
Her blazer still showed a faint stain.
She almost turned around.
Then the revolving doors opened.
A man in a navy suit approached.
“Miss Blake?”
“Yes.”
“Daniel Mercer.”
They shook hands.
His expression was professional, but his eyes were unusually serious.
“Mr. Weston is expecting you.”
Emma followed him into the elevator.
Neither spoke for several seconds.
Finally Emma said, “Why did he want to see me?”
Daniel pressed the button for the thirty-ninth floor.
“Because you saved his life.”
“That doesn't explain the daughter.”
Daniel's hand froze.
Emma noticed.
“I heard someone say it.”
Daniel sighed.
“You heard something you weren't supposed to.”
“That's becoming a habit today.”
He almost smiled.
“You're not afraid of much, are you?”
Emma looked at him.
“I’m terrified.”
“Of what?”
“Losing another opportunity.”
The elevator doors opened.
Daniel led her into a quiet hallway.
At the end stood a pair of enormous wooden doors.
He knocked.
A voice answered.
“Come in.”
Daniel opened the door.
Emma stepped inside.
Richard Weston sat beside a window overlooking Boston.
He looked older than his photographs.
Seventy years old, perhaps.
Gray hair.
Thin face.
A slight tremor in his right hand.
But his eyes were sharp.
Very sharp.
He stood slowly.
“Emma Blake.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Please.”
He gestured toward a chair.
Emma sat.
Richard remained standing.
“You performed CPR on me.”
“Yes.”
“You didn't know who I was.”
“No.”
“You thought I was an ordinary man.”
Emma gave a small smile.
“I thought you were a dying man.”
Richard's lips curved.
“That answer explains why you're here.”
Emma looked at him.
“Why?”
“Because everyone else saw my suit.”
He touched the arm of his chair.
“You saw my pulse.”
Silence.
Richard finally sat.
“I have spent fifty years building Weston & Co.”
“I know.”
“You applied for the Senior Financial Strategy Associate position.”
Emma nodded.
“I did.”
“You were recommended by Professor Helen Marsh.”
“Yes.”
“She wrote that you're unusually good at finding financial inconsistencies.”
Emma hesitated.
“I like numbers.”
“No.”
Richard leaned forward.
“You like truth.”
Emma said nothing.
Richard opened a folder.
“I read your application.”
Emma's stomach tightened.
“I was told the interview was cancelled.”