Force of attraction

The early morning sun cast a warm, golden hue over the towering skyscrapers of Wall Street, casting long shadows on the bustling city streets below. Amidst the throngs of hurried professionals in power suits and polished shoes, there was a figure that stood out—a woman. Amelia Greyson.

She had always known that her path in life would lead her here, to this bustling epicenter of commerce and ambition. From a young age, she had been captivated by the energy of the city, and her resolve to conquer it had never wavered.

Now, dressed in a black peplum gown just above her knees with a Versace designed bag and black stilettos with a gold buckle that exuded both authority and elegance, Amelia navigated the crowded sidewalks with a purposeful stride. Her dark hair, center parted and curly, framed a face marked by determination and intelligence. Today was the day she had been working toward for years.

Hawthorne & Associates. One of the most prestigious law firms in the city, nestled on a high floor of a gleaming glass-and-steel tower. As Amelia stepped into the lobby of the imposing building, she could feel her heart racing. This was the moment she had been waiting for—a chance to prove herself in a world that had been dominated by men for far too long.

Walking in, all Amelia could see were men which validated what she heard about the firm which is that it is run by men only, thank goodness the receptionist was a female, but it didn’t make Amelia feel any better because she felt the oozing smell of misogyny and patriarchy all over the office.

The receptionist, a poised woman with an air of authority, greeted her with a warm smile. "Good morning, Ms. Grayson. Mr. Hawthorn is expecting you in his office on the 20th floor." Amelia nodded, a sense of both excitement and thrill coursing through her. She stepped into the elevator, her reflection shimmering in the polished walls, and pressed the button for the 20th floor. As the elevator ascended, she took a moment to gather her thoughts.

Amelia had always been a trailblazer. Growing up in a small town, she had been the first in her family to attend college and later law school. Her journey had been marked by relentless determination, fueled by the desire to prove that a woman could excel in the male-dominated world of corporate law.

When the elevator doors opened, she stepped out into a corridor adorned with framed diplomas and awards, testaments to the firm's legacy. She couldn't help but feel a sense of awe as she walked toward the office of Charles Hawthorne, the formidable founder of the firm.

"Come in," a deep voice called from inside the office.

Amelia pushed open the heavy wooden door, revealing a spacious, meticulously organized office. Charles Hawthorn, a distinguished man in his early sixties with a shock of silver hair and white properly lined beards, sat behind an imposing mahogany desk. His steely blue eyes locked onto Alexandra as she entered.