Anna sat as patiently as she could on the firm leather sofa to the left of the door to Mr. Westergard's office. The butterflies in her stomach were threatening to flutter right out of her throat as she nervously twirled a strand of hair between her thumb and forefinger. What was he going to ask her? She hoped she hadn't straight up lied about anything in her CV – Elsa had advised maybe exaggerating the good points a little, but Anna was nervous the interview was going to prove tougher than she first thought. What if he asked her something she didn't even realise was a thing? What exactly was on her CV that he needed clarification for?

Suddenly the door to the office creaked open just a touch.

"Yes, yes, of course, Sir," came a woman's voice. She had a comfortable laugh on her voice, like she was exchanging pleasantries with an old friend. "I'll have that to you by five. And I'll tell them to reschedule tomorrow for next Wednesday." She opened the door further, revealing herself to be the tall brunette Anna had seen earlier in the week. She was wearing a tight pencil skirt that hovered just above her knees and black killer heels. Her blouse was neatly tucked into the skirt, accentuating her slim figure. Anna held back a pout.

Then he appeared at the doorway, watching the brunette leave for a moment before finding his way down to Anna sitting there, staring up at him with those deep blue eyes. Then Hans noticed her bottom lip folded into her teeth, and those freckles peppering her rosy cheeks. He felt his lips turn up in a half-smile.

"If you'd like to come through," he said.

Anna stood as gracefully as she could – though she still felt like a giraffe finding its legs – and made her way past Mr. Westergard and into the office. It was neatly decorated, with bookshelves lining the right wall and a stack of filing cabinets on the left. The back of the office was taken up by a breath-taking panoramic view of the city from the fourteenth floor.

"Wow," Anna breathed involuntarily at the sight.

"It's cosy," Mr. Westergard replied casually. "You get used to the view."

He sat down behind his desk and Anna took a seat in the armchair in front of it. She crossed one leg over the other, arranging her skirt neatly over her knees by way of delaying having to look him in the face; she had given up on trying to hide her nervous blush.

"So, first things first," he began, after a few moments shuffling around the papers on his desk. "How are you, Anna?"

Anna was completely taken off guard by this question. She could feel her eyes widening but could do nothing to stop it – a deer in the headlights.

"Uh, yeah," she attempted. "Yes, good. Good, me. I'm fine." Then, "thank you."

"Good," he said, holding back a chuckle – and the urge to correct her: thank you, Sir.

Anna noticed his face fall a little and his eyes grow distant for a split second, and she instantly panicked.

"Uh, how are you? Of course, how are you?" The words tumbled out of her mouth, decorated with a few awkward laughs.

"I'm well, thank you."

"Oh, good, good," she laughed anxiously. "Good."

There was a moment of awkward silence between the two of them, Anna not knowing what to say or to expect, the man opposite her emanating power from his expensive leather office chair. Then he looked down at the papers on his desk, and Anna watched as his eyes scanned through the text quickly from the top of the page to the bottom in a matter of seconds.

"What drove you to hand in your CV?"

Uh oh.

I was just handing out my CV everywhere because I need a job. My sister recommended I try here because I've tried everywhere else in this darn city and no one wants to hire me. I've just come out with a mortar board and top-class marks but people turn me down because I'm awkward and I talk too much and I get myself into situations where I can't answer questions properly and-

"I've heard good things about this House. And I love reading and editing and writing," she answered, putting on her most professional-sounding voice. "I had columns in the university paper."

"Yes, congratulations on your degree. Impressive marks."

"Thank you," Anna beamed, feeling her chest filled with pride. She had worked hard for that First, but the only person who had ever complimented her on it had been Elsa. "I'm hoping to pursue that area further, actually. I'm interested the most in writing – fiction, non-fiction, journals, articles, websites, blogs –" and now the information was pouring out of her mouth, filling every corner of the room with the plans she had cemented into her head all those hours of sleep lost to the uncomfortable mattress on the living room floor. "– and I love meeting people and interacting and taking interviews, so I think journalism would really suit me well because those social situations are just where I want to be – I mean, who doesn't?!"

Pausing for breath, Anna realised she had spoken far too much. There was a spark in Mr. Westergard's eye – was that amusement? She bit down on her bottom lip and looked down at her hands in her lap.

"Enthusiasm and passion are admirable traits," he said, the smile still playing out in his words. "Do you see yourself working here, Anna?"

Anna's eyes darted back up to look him in the face. Was this it?

"Of course," she chimed, trying not to sound too over-enthusiastic. "I mean, if you'll have me."

Hans felt his whole body tense at these words. He set his jaw firmly to try and hide how deep her innocence was working its way under his skin. She was so young, so… pure. He was having a hard time controlling his imagination, his breathing, his hands. Honestly, he only brought her here to take a closer look. It had been so long since he'd met any girl that fit his profile quite like Anna Arendelle.

"Gladly," he said.

Elsa heard the keys turn in the lock and she turned her head to see Anna leap through the front door and into the living room.

"I got it!" she cried. "I got the job! He hired me!"

Elsa sprang up from the sofa, abandoning the remote and almost spilling her mug of coffee that she'd left on the floor beside her.

"Yes! That's great!" she cheered. "Congratulations!"

Anna hopped over and threw her arms around her sister. Elsa squeezed her back, the both of them giggling with delight.

"I start on Monday," Anna said after they'd finally broken away from each other and calmed down.

"Wow," Elsa breathed. "I told you something would show up! Didn't I tell you?!"

Anna tutted in mock frustration. "You were just saying that to cheer me up – you can't tell the future!" She stuck out her tongue playfully. "Anyway, let's celebrate! Let's throw a party, or go out or – something!"

"Oh, Anna, no!" Elsa groaned. "You know parties aren't my thing."

"But Elsa," Anna whined back.

"Who would we even invite?! I only have one friend."

"I'm sure Olaf would love to come."

Elsa gave a groan of reluctance, which then turned into a drawn-out sigh when she saw Anna's pout.

"Fine," Elsa said, holding back a smirk. "I'll see if he's around." She turned her eyes down to her phone and tapped the screen a few times. Then she looked back up at Anna and blinked at her expectantly.

"Well?!" She sang, grinning.

"Well what?" Anna's eyes darted around quickly, confused as to what Elsa was waiting for.

"Are you going to invite your new friend, then? The one you spilled coffee over yesterday?"

"Him?! He's not my new friend, Elsa. I don't know him at all! He won't want to come."

"Oh, shut up, Anna. I saw the way you two were looking at each other."

"Are you serious?!" Anna cried. "No way."

Elsa had settled into a fit of giggles. "Well, he gave you his number, didn't he?"

Anna tutted, unable to come up with anything to say back, because it was true: he had given her his number. Elsa shrugged with a told-you-so smile, still giggling, and disappeared into her room. Anna walked over to the door where she'd deposited her bag, reached in for her phone and scrolled through her contacts until she saw his name.

Kristoff Bjorgman.

After he'd bought her a replacement coffee, he'd asked her name and how are you? and what's your story?, but he'd given very little away about himself. Just that he was a contract worker renovating a small business nearby, with very little family and even fewer close friends. The wallpaper on his phone had been a picture of a golden retriever. Anna couldn't remember what he'd called the dog, but she remembered that it was his. She also remembered how similar the dog's eyes were to his owner's: a light brown – amber, almost – and rather… sad. "We have each other, and that's enough for us," he'd said.

Tutting again, Anna open up her texting app and selected his name. He was probably busy, anyway.

Hey!, she typed. Then paused. She was inviting him out for a casual evening, a small social gathering. Not too formal, but definitely not too informal. She barely knew the guy. She erased the exclamation mark. Then she put it back. Then she sighed.

Just wondered if you were free this evening, she began.

Then deleted it.

It's Anna. We are celebrating!

Delete.

Drinks? Tonight? A celebration.

Delete.

I got a job! We are going out tonight for a small celebration.

Delete.

On the verge of giving up, she quickly tapped in the words and then hit send as soon as she could. Of course, she instantly regretted it once she saw what she had typed. Groaning, she collapsed back onto the sofa, covering her arm with her face.

Hey! Let's go out for a drink tonight. Anna.