"It's definitely cold shoulder, genius."
"Pretty sure it's not."
"Whatever." I glance toward the wall connecting our offices. "The point is, she won't let me get a word in. Everything’s been brutally professional. I tried to catch her at lunch, but she vanished. Then in the department meeting, shesat across the room and only addressed me when the VP specifically asked for her input on the Apex timeline and had to include me."
"Ouch," he says, and I can hear the amusement in his voice. "The lady's got pride. I like her style."
"Yeah, well, I—" A knock at my door makes me pause. "Hold on. Someone's here."
I lower the phone and see Amelia opening the door.
"Got to go," I whisper into the phone before hanging up.
She strides into my office, her silver-streaked bob and impeccable posture radiating the kind of authority that doesn't need to be announced. Her bright red lipstick matches her pantsuit.
"Sebastian," she says, tapping a folder against her palm. "How's your first day treating you? Get everything you needed from Charlotte?"
"Great, thanks." I gesture to my computer screen where Charlotte's files are open. "Yeah, she sent everything over earlier this morning and I'm just finishing up going through everything. Comprehensive stuff."
"She's one of our best." She opens the folder. "We're thrilled to have you join the team. Your experience with Altitude will bring a fresh perspective to our athletics accounts."
"That's the plan." I offer what I hope is a confident smile.
"Any particular ideas brewing already?" She raises an eyebrow, curious but not demanding.
I nod, grateful for the chance to talk business instead of my personal disaster. "A few. Apex's winter line could benefit from some strategic ambassador partnerships. Not just with the top competitors, but with up-and-comers who have a strong social media presence."
"I like that." Amelia nods approvingly. "Charlotte mentioned something similar in her initial proposal. You two seem to be on the same wavelength."
If only she knew.
"Any holiday plans?" She asks. "This town can be quite festive this time of year."
"Not really. Just trying to get settled into my new townhome." I gesture vaguely. "Boxes everywhere still."
"Well, don't work too late tonight. First days are always exhausting." She straightens up. "See you tomorrow."
"Looking forward to it."
As she leaves, I catch movement through the open door and see Charlie walk past. Perfect timing. I quickly save my work, shut down my system, and grab my jacket. By the time I make it to the hallway, she's already heading toward the elevators.
"Charlotte, wait up," I call, jogging a few steps to catch her.
She doesn't slow down, just reaches the elevator and presses the button. The doors open immediately—of course they do—and she steps inside. I slide in just before they close, leaving us alone in the small space.
The tension is immediate and thick. She stands perfectly still, eyes fixed on the illuminated floor number above the door. Her posture is rigid, and I catch the faint scent of her perfume, the same one from Saturday night.
My throat suddenly feels dry. This woman has seen me naked, has whispered things in my ear that would make the HR department spontaneously combust, and now she won't even look at me.
"So," I try, aiming for casual, "first day survival accomplished. No major disasters. Though I did get lost trying to find the supply closet and ended up in accounting."
Nothing. Not even a twitch of her lips.
The elevator descends with excruciating slowness.
"The coffee here is surprisingly decent," I continue, desperate to break through.
Her head turns, hazel eyes meeting mine. They're not warm like Saturday night. They're sharp and assessing. She looks at me like I'm a particularly challenging spreadsheet.
