The first night I stayed late and went looking for him, I wondered if I’d overplayed my hand. For a moment, his reaction made me think I was pushing too far. But he didn’t send me away. He told me to stay.
And then he told me again the next day.
Now, we’ve found a rhythm. One that feels easy. Addictive.
Which means it’s time to take the next step.
Colin might not have seen me coming, but soon enough, I’ll make sure he won’t be able to let me go.
Colin
“Today was one of those days I wish I could go back to a time when all I had to do was study and pass exams.”
It’s late. The kind of late that makes the skyline blur through the glass, and the hum of the city feels like a distant echo.
We’ve been working side by side for more than two hours before Maya ordered dinner from a nearby restaurant, the fifth time in a little over a week.
By now, there’s a rhythm to it.
Files spread across my desk, muted conversation, takeout containers stacked neatly to one side. A comfortable silence that shouldn’t feel as easy as it does.
She asked about my workload, and that’s what drew the complaint out of me, the fleeting wish to rewind to simpler days. She’s twirling a lock of dark hair around her finger, and I catch myself watching the motion longer than I should.
“What’s it like?” she asks softly.
I look up, distracted. “Hmm?”
“The feeling of being on top of the world,” she says, eyes on me. “And in control of so many lives.”
I can’t help but laugh. “I guarantee it’s not what people imagine. Most days, it’s more of a burden than anything else.”
“Burdens are for shoulders strong enough to carry them,”she replies, voice lower now. “And even through the suit, I can see yours are very… strong.”
Her tone lands exactly where she wants it to. I smile despite myself and shake my head.
“It’s fromGone with the Wind,” she adds when she sees my expression. “The quote. Scarlett was my first favorite heroine.”
“Not Melanie?” I ask, teasing.
Maya laughs, incredulous. “No.Definitelynot Melanie. It was always Scarlett.”
Our eyes meet. Her tongue passes over her lower lip, drawing my gaze there despite myself. The air stretches between us—seconds, perhaps minutes—until I clear my throat.
“It’s getting late. You should head home. I’ll finish up here and follow shortly.”
“Of course. Time always flies when I’m here.” Her voice softens. “Every day I work with you just proves I chose the right company to invest my time, and my life in.”
“The company is certainly lucky to have you,” I say evenly.
“Just the company?” she counters, smiling.
I don’t answer. I gesture toward the door instead.
As she turns, a few papers slip from her hands. Before I can react, she bends to gather them. The slit at the back of her skirt parts slightly, the outline of her body framed by the light. For a split second, my body betrays me.
I stay seated, behind the desk.
When she stands, she glances back over her shoulder, eyes glinting with the kind of amusement that lingers. Then she walks out.
