“I’m good,” I told her, double-checking the address written in my notebook. “It’s just off Market Street. I can walk.”

She handed me a granola bar, kissed my temple, and left me standing alone in front of the mirror, chewing the inside of my cheek and trying not to think about green eyes or the last time I’d heard my name spoken like a prayer.

I squared my shoulders and walked out the door. By 9:55 a.m., I was walking down the street where ChimeIn was located, gripping a cup of lukewarm tea and drowning in nerves that made me question everything, including my ability to speak in full sentences. I had no idea what I was walking into.

The building didn’t look like much from the outside. Gray, concrete, square—wedged between a record store and a comic book shop with sun-faded posters taped to the windows. But when I stepped inside, it felt like crossing an invisible line into the future.

The floors gleamed. The lighting was soft but expensive-looking. Everything smelled faintly of citrus and printer paper. Behind the reception desk was a wall-sized screen with the ChimeIn logo animated in glossy mint green—two overlapping speech bubbles with a faint pulse, like a heartbeat. Sleek. Subtle. Intimidating.

I almost turned around right there. But then a woman stepped into the lobby, wearing a bright smile as if she’d been waiting for me all her life. She was tall—late twenties, maybe—with soft eyes, glasses, and curly black hair twisted into a high bun.

“You must be Beverly,” she said as she approached, extending her hand with the grace of someone who knew exactly what they wanted. “I’m Maxine.”

I gave her a polite smile. “Thanks for seeing me,” I said, shaking her hand with more confidence than I actually had.

“Of course.” She grinned, already leading me past the lobby into a wide hallway that smelled like fresh paint and ambition. “We’re always looking for fresh faces.”

We stepped into an open workspace, all clean white desks and glass offices with sliding doors. A few women milled around, stylish and focused, most of them with coffee in hand and headphones looped around their necks.

“This is our creative development wing,” Maxine explained, her heels clicking softly on the floor. “Right now, we’re building new features—expanding video messaging, customizing feeds, that sort of thing. Stuff our users have been asking for.”

“And this is…for a website?”