Chapter Text
Mia looked up from her phone and out the bus window, streaked with rain.
Shit!
She jumped up and hurried toward the rear door. Downtown Seattle during rush hour meant the bus made every stop, but she’d been so absorbed in pulling up her interview details that she’d sailed right past hers.
Fighting against the crush of passengers boarding, she made it onto the sidewalk - just in time to see the bus pull away with her umbrella still sitting on the seat.
Shit, shit!
She flipped up the collar of her wool peacoat, not that it helped much. She didn’t mind rain - no one survived Seattle for long if they did - but she couldn’t show up late and dripping wet. Rent was due in a week, her savings were nearly gone, and this interview was her last shot before things got truly dire.
Mia slung her laptop bag over her shoulder and hurried up Battery to Fifth Avenue, still scrolling for the meeting details on her phone. The building was at least ten blocks away, and her interview started in five minutes. Panic bubbled in her chest as she increased her pace. She’d lost her job as media manager for a local tour group in November, and her roommate had decided to move back home to marry her high school sweetheart last month. If she didn't find a job soon, she was going to be homeless in a matter of weeks.
As she passed one of the modern apartment buildings that had sprung up downtown in recent years, the screen on her phone flickered off briefly, came back on, and then went dark for good.
"What the hell?" she muttered, giving it a violent shake.
A chat box suddenly flashed onto the screen, her name in bold letters.
"MIA CONNELLY?"
Mia froze, glancing around. No one on the crowded sidewalk seemed to notice. Everyone was focused on their own screens.
She typed back: Who is this?
"I HAVE A JOB FOR YOU.”
Her pulse jumped. It had to be a prank. Or worse - a scam. But they knew her name. And she couldn’t access her calendar with the meeting info as long as this messager controlled her phone.
Against her better judgment, she responded: What kind of job?
She fully anticipated some kind of perverted response, but no pornographic images or lewd suggestions appeared in response to her question.
"ENTER THE BUILDING IN FRONT OF YOU. APARTMENT 1403."
Mia eyed the sleek apartment complex. Rain trickled down the glass doors, blurring her reflection. Every instinct screamed not to go inside. But her phone flickered again, buzzing in her hand like it was alive. And what if this really was an opportunity? Stranger things had happened.
Right?
Tentatively, she entered the lobby. Past an area with mailboxes and some guest seating was a locked glass door with a code pad next to it.
"1283"
Mia blinked. Seriously?
She tried it. The door buzzed and clicked open. Heart pounding, she slipped through before it latched again.
In the elevator, she pressed the button for the fourteenth floor. A woman with a tiny dog wearing what looked like a gold collar joined her, eyeing Mia like she might be dangerous. When the doors slid open on the eighth floor, the dog bared its teeth in farewell. Mia bared hers right back. The dog appeared wholly unimpressed.
On fourteen, Mia stepped into a hushed hallway. A sign pointed left for 1401-1411. She swallowed hard and followed its direction. 1403 was near the end, another keypad glowing beside the door.
Her phone lit up again.
“1403”
She jumped, nearly dropping it. How could they know she’d arrived?
Mia hesitated, hand hovering. This was insane. But she’d already come this far. And if this was a prank, well, she’d leave.
She punched in the code. The lock clicked.
Here goes nothing.
The apartment was quiet. Too quiet.
“Hello?” Her voice wavered as she pushed the door open.
Inside, the space was sleek but impersonal - glass table, metal chairs, a galley kitchen, and floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the gray sweep of Queen Anne and the Space Needle. For a moment, the view distracted her.
Then her phone buzzed violently in her hand.
Lines of code scrolled too fast to read, then vanished. A chat window popped up instead. Messages flew by nearly too fast to read.
Liam: Ugh, I tanked my midterms. I’m screwed.
Jonathan: You’ll still have that internship at my company. You’ll be fine.
Mia squinted at the screen. Was this - a group chat?
Zayn: Yeah, if he actually shows up on time.
707: Wait - hold up. Someone just entered the chat.
Her stomach dropped.
Jonathan: 'Mia?' Who’s that?
Zayn: WTF? How did it get in here?
Mia bristled. It?
She typed quickly:
Mia: Uh - hello?
The feed exploded.
707: The IP address is from Rita's apartment.
Liam: Someone broke into Rita's apartment?
Jonathan: Who are you? If you don't reveal yourself, you’ll regret it.
Mia stiffened. Regret it? Were they serious?
Zayn: Whoa, easy. What if it’s a girl?
Mia rolled her eyes. Sexist, but at least he wasn’t threatening her.
Jonathan: Do you ever think with anything besides your…
Liam: He's famous now! He doesn’t have to!
Mia’s gaze darted over the screen, trying to keep up. Famous?
Jonathan: Can we all just stay on topic for five seconds, please?!
Liam: Oh, right! Mia, who are you? What are you doing in Rita's apartment?
Zayn: Maybe she's one of my fans?
Sexist, and conceited. What was with this guy?
Mia hesitated, then decided honesty was the best choice.
Mia: I got a message saying there was a job here. I thought it was an interview.
The room went still.
Suddenly, someone new joined the chat.
Julie: I just got your text, Mr. Harris. What's going on?
Jonathan: It seems we have an uninvited visitor in the chat room. You didn't extend a job interview to someone named Mia, did you?
Julie: With permission to join this chat? Of course not!
707: Just - hang on a sec.
Liam: Are you going to hack her phone?
Zayn: Dude, that's not cool. Don't hack her phone.
707: Who said anything about hacking?
Mia: He might as well. Seems everyone else is hacking it today.
Zayn: Ha! It's funny!
Mia: Could you please stop calling me 'it'?!
Zayn: Oops! Sorry. What should I call you? Bae? Honey? Foxy lady?
Jonathan: For the love of god, will you stop screwing around?
707: Hmm. Well, Miss Mia is telling us the truth. I can see the messages from the hacker on her phone.
Zayn: See, Jon? You don't have to be such a prick all the time.
Jonathan: Don't call me Jon!
707: She's cute too! I especially like the pic of you in the bikini.
Mia: Oh dear god…
Zayn: I wanna see!
Liam: Me too!
Julie: You just followed the instructions of an anonymous person to go to an unknown location? Isn't that - dangerous?
Mia flushed with embarrassment. Time to admit to a bunch of strangers the extent of her desperation.
Mia: I was on my way to a job interview this morning. A message popped up on my phone and said there was an opportunity here. So, I decided to check it out. But if this is just some stupid prank, I'll go and leave you all alone.
Zayn: Wait!
Jonathan: What kind of work do you do?
Mia: PR and social media. I have a degree in communications.
Jonathan: Hmm.
Zayn: I can always use someone for promotional work.
Jonathan: Would you please STOP TALKING?
Zayn: Geez. No need to yell.
707: Jonathan, you're thinking about the parties?
Jonathan: Yes. It seems like quite a coincidence.
Julie: You're not seriously considering letting a stranger…
Mia: What parties?
Liam: The person who used to live in that apartment was my cousin, Rita. She used to organize parties to raise money for charities.
Mia: Fundraising for a non-profit? I can do that.
Liam: The apartment has been empty since Rita passed. Mia could work from there, and even live there…
Mia's heart skipped a beat. This could seriously solve all of her problems. But how was this happening? She pinched herself, hard enough to leave a mark. Yep, awake.
Zayn: She probably already has an apartment.
Liam: I just meant if she wanted to…
Mia: Actually, that would work out perfectly for me. If you wouldn’t mind.
Julie: It's not that simple…
Zayn: I still think you should come work for me, Mia.
Jonathan: What do you think, Seven?
707: On just a cursory glance, she seems okay. I can keep digging, but I'm okay with offering her the position on a probationary basis.
Zayn: Me too. We need some pretty girls around here to liven up the place!
707: How do you know she's pretty?
Zayn: Share the bikini photo, dammit!
707: Sorry, sucka!
Julie: I am against this idea.
Jonathan: Duly noted. How about you, Liam? She would be taking Rita’s place, after all.
Liam: The RFA hasn't done anything since Rita passed away. I feel like - if we don't take this opportunity, this might be the end for us. And I have a good feeling about Mia. I say we give her a chance.
Jonathan: I agree. Well, then, since it is four to one - Mia, would you like to join the RFA as our Fundraising Coordinator?
Mia was jumping up and down as she typed:
Mia: I would be honored.
Zayn: Yes!
Jonathan: Welcome to the RFA.
707: I have another job I need to work on right now, but I'll get with you later today and explain where everything is for the party planning, okay? Oh, and the security code was defaulted to the apartment number after Rita left. I'll help you reset it to something more secure when we talk.
Mia: Okay. Thanks.
707: No problemo. Laterz.
-707 left chat-
Jonathan: The apartment belongs to the foundation, but for now you may use it as you see fit. You can move in whenever you please.
Mia: Great. Thank you for taking a chance on me. I promise to do a good job.
Jonathan: Yes, well - we shall see. I need to get to a meeting. Please join me, Ms. King.
Julie: I'll be right there. Welcome to the RFA, Mia.
- Jonathan left chat-
-Julie left chat-
Liam: I'm late for class, but I'm really happy you're going to be continuing Rita's work! Let's talk later.
Mia: Thanks, Liam. I'll do my best! TTYL.
-Liam left chat-
And then, there was only Mia and Zayn left in the chat.
Zayn: I meant what I said before about you working for me, too, if you think you can juggle both?
Mia sank onto the sofa, bag sliding from her shoulder. This was all happening too fast. Who even is this guy?
Mia: Well, I saw your posts. You’re a performer?
Zayn: Yup! Singer/ dancer. You don't recognize me?
An image popped into the chat. Mia enlarged it. And nearly forgot how to breathe.
Zayn’s headshot stared back at her with a smolder that could melt glass. White-blond hair framed sharp cheekbones, his eyes a warm amber flecked with fire. There was something feline in his beauty, magnetic and dangerous.
If he sang half as good as he looked, this guy was destined for stardom.
Mia: I don't think so. Sorry. What kind of music do you perform?
Zayn: This is the link to my video. What kind of music do you like?
Mia: All kinds, really, but I don't follow pop music too much. I'm actually a classically trained pianist.
Zayn: !
Zayn: Are you being serious right now?
Mia: Um, yes?
Zayn: Are you sure you're not an angel that's been sent to me from the heavens? A publicist and a musician? I can't…
Zayn: This is…
There was a pause, and then:
Zayn: I have to go meet my agent, but we need to talk. SOON! I'll message you later, k?
Mia: Sure.
Zayn: Miss Mia, I have a good feeling about you. Don't you disappear on me! xoxo
-Zayn left chat-
The chat blinked out, leaving her alone with her reflection in the darkened phone screen.
Mia let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. In the span of fifteen minutes, she’d stumbled into a new job, a new apartment, and possibly into the orbit of a dangerously beautiful and charming man.
Maybe, just maybe, things were finally looking up.