Nobody warned me that being an executive assistant involved corporate espionage and severe sleep deprivation.
Four hours.
That's all I'd managed after Augustus dropped me home past midnight.
Four miserable hours of restless half-sleep filled with fraudulent approvals and mysterious workstations.
My hair fell in perfect waves. My makeup was flawless—concealer performing actual miracles beneath my eyes.
My brain, however, had left the building.
I zombie-walked into the executive lounge, past glass walls reflecting my immaculate corpse.
"Juliette?"
Jane appeared beside me, looking concerned.
"You look exhausted."
"I'm perfectly fine."
I pressed my employee access card against the coffee machine.
Nothing happened.
Obviously.
Because coffee machines don't require security clearance.
Jane gently redirected my hand toward the control panel.
"Augustus's morning coffee? His first meeting is in twenty minutes."
Right.
Coffee.
For Augustus.
I hadn't even consumed my own caffeine yet.
Unacceptable.
Determined not to recreate yesterday's scalding disaster, I prepared his usual order.
Custom blend. Precise temperature. Exact measurements.
Perfect.
Except I'd accidentally selected decaf.
Augustus Evans was about to receive completely useless coffee.
And I was too tired to care.
Augustus sat behind his desk, looking criminally refreshed despite working past midnight.
Bastard.
I placed his coffee on the polished surface with exaggerated confidence.
"Perfect temperature. Exact measurements. Your morning caffeine, delivered with precision."
He took a measured sip.
Paused.
Looked at the cup like it had personally offended him.
"You changed something."
"I followed your instructions exactly."
"You gave me decaf."
Shit.
"That's impossible."
"Apparently not."
His voice carried no anger. Something suspiciously close to amusement flickered across his features.
His gaze settled on the concealer-camouflaged shadows beneath my eyes.
"How much did you sleep?"
"Plenty."
"Define plenty."
"Enough to function as a barely adequate assistant."
"Clearly."
"Maybe your body has finally developed a healthy relationship with caffeine."
"Juliette."
"Fine. I'll fix it. But for the record, decaf is a perfectly respectable beverage."
"Then you can drink it."
Cruel. Absolutely cruel.
"Get yourself some proper coffee before the briefing."
He handed me a flaky croissant wrapped in a napkin.
"The executive lounge ordered too many."
I stared at the pastry. Then at him.
"Too many?"
"Apparently their vendor miscalculated."
Right.
Because high-end corporate caterers routinely made inventory mistakes on Wednesday mornings.
I accepted the croissant without acknowledging what we both knew.
Augustus Evans had noticed I'd skipped breakfast.
Admitting that would require gratitude.
And I wasn't emotionally prepared for that.
The conference room gleamed beneath the morning sunlight.
Augustus occupied the head of the table, Vanessa positioned immediately to his right like a sentry guarding her territory.
David Chen sat opposite her. Representatives from procurement, logistics, finance, and communications filled the remaining seats.
I claimed the chair furthest from Vanessa's territorial radius.
Augustus distributed the crisis report I'd submitted at 7:43 AM.
Seventeen minutes before the deadline.
Take that, everyone who doubted Harper heiresses understood punctuality.
The logistics director flipped through the pages.
"The report is unusually comprehensive. Particularly the regulatory corrections."
Vanessa smiled smoothly.
"Our departments have been working extremely hard. Miss Harper helped organize the material, of course."
Organize?
Wonderful.
Apparently identifying regulatory errors and untangling shipping records was now equivalent to alphabetizing stationery.
I opened my mouth—
"Miss Harper did more than organize the report," Augustus interrupted.
The room quieted.
"She identified the outdated regulatory reference before the statement was released. Her observation prevented us from distributing inaccurate information during an already sensitive situation."
I stared.
Was Augustus Evans defending me?
In public?
Without someone holding him at gunpoint?
"Juliette, explain your recommendation."
Oh.
Right.
Apparently I was expected to participate in my own professional recognition.
I straightened beneath the executives' collective attention.
"The original draft referenced the Shorebridge Port Authority, which ceased independent operations when its functions merged into the National Trade Council. Using outdated terminology suggests we're not tracking current regulatory structures—particularly problematic during a shipping crisis."
The logistics director nodded.
"The NTC has been sensitive about jurisdictional clarity since the merger. You're right."
"Exactly. The revised statement acknowledges our coordination with the NTC and references its updated compliance framework. It positions Ever Holdings as proactive rather than reactive."
Augustus inclined his head.
"Communications will implement the revision before this afternoon's release."
Vanessa's smile turned brittle.
"Well. That's certainly… thorough."
Pride swelled unexpectedly in my chest.
Not because of Harper money or family connections.
I'd earned this.
Me.
Juliette Harper.
The meeting concluded with handshakes and murmured approval.
David caught me near the door.
"Nice work on that regulatory catch."
"Thanks."
I tried sounding casual, like public recognition happened every Wednesday.
Augustus passed, lowering his voice.
"Follow up with communications. Make sure the revised statement matches your recommendation."
"Careful, Evans. If you keep complimenting me, people might think you actually like me."
"I said your work was good, Juliette. Don't get carried away."
"Too late. I've already commissioned a commemorative plaque."
His mouth twitched.
Actually twitched.
Then he smiled.
A small, knowing smile before disappearing into his office.
Traitorous butterflies fluttered in my stomach.
Absolutely unacceptable.
Somewhere between spilled coffee and fraudulent approvals, Augustus Evans had stopped being merely my lifelong rival.
And become—
"Juliette?"
Vanessa materialized beside me.
"Do you have a moment? I'd like a private word."
We moved into a quiet alcove near the elevators.
"You're settling into your position remarkably quickly, Miss Harper."
"Thank you. I do try to exceed expectations."
Her smile didn't reach her eyes.
"Working closely with Mr. Evans gives you access to things most employees will never see."
"Like his coffee preferences? Trust me, they're not worth the privilege."
"Confidential information. Executive decisions. Internal records."
Her voice lowered.
"Access like that comes with consequences, Juliette. Especially when someone doesn't understand how dangerous it can be."
For once, I had no immediate comeback.
"You stayed late with Mr. Evans last night," she continued. "Working on sensitive materials."
My spine stiffened.
How did she—
"Executive assistants handle privileged information constantly. Mistakes involving executive access can have serious professional consequences."
She didn't mention Hendrick Maritime.
Didn't explicitly threaten anything.
But the warning landed like ice water.
"I appreciate your concern," I replied evenly. "Though I'm confident Mr. Evans trusts my discretion."
"Of course."
Her smile sharpened.
"Just remember—trust is earned gradually. And lost very, very quickly."
She walked away, heels clicking against the marble.
I watched her disappear around the corner.
Yesterday, I would've dismissed that conversation as another attempt to remind me I didn't belong here.
Today?
I wasn't so sure.
Because Vanessa Lin had just warned me about the dangers of executive access.
And after what Augustus and I discovered last night, I couldn't help wondering—
Was that a warning?
Or did she know something I didn't?