(Rosalie's POV)
The air in the studio seemed to solidify instantly. A suffocating silence spread between the three of us.
I noticed Alexander's brows knit together slightly. A cold realization washed over me.
This was Alexander Hawthorne. He was the center of New York's power elite.
Rumors whispered that debutantes spent fortunes just to secure a seat next to him at charity galas. Business tycoons fought tooth and nail just to obtain his private number.
And who was I?
I was just a secretary who had recently quit her job. I was covered in clay dust. I wasn't qualified to hold his contact information.
Embarrassment heated my neck. I needed to fix this social blunder.
"Actually," I started, trying to keep my voice professional and detached. "Perhaps I can just write my number on a sti
