These are things I need to do that others might not think twice about, but I’ve come to understand that I operate differently. I have my own pace, my own set of needs, and that’s okay. It’s not something to be ashamed of; it’s just part ofwho I am.
Stella got here about half an hour ago, and we’ve been going over everything: schedules, Silas’ preferences, the software we use for presentations, and upcoming meetings with clients interested in Park Avenue apartments. I’m taking it all in, making mental notes, and it feels great. Everything is falling into place, and I’m ready to take on whatever comes my way.
Except for my boss, my school’s bully.
Stella is hilarious; she’s always cracking jokes about her pregnancy, saying she feels like a potato and is starting to look like one too. She’s got this dry humor that makes even the most mundane details funny. She doesn’t talk much about the father, and I don’t dare ask. When she does mention him, it’s usually with a sarcastic twist, calling him “Ghost Daddy” or “Sperm Donor” with such obvious disdain that I just let it slide, not wanting to pry. Despite that, I really like her. She’s straightforward and explains everything clearly. For example, she told me that Silas usually arrives around noon, so I should schedule meetings in the afternoon since he prefers to work out in the mornings.
At thirty-one, Silas is in his prime. New York has clearly done wonders for him. His tailored suit fits him perfectly, with a sharp black tie adding a touch of sophistication. The stubble along his jawline, the result of a two-day beard, adds a rugged edge to his otherwise polished appearance. His voice is now deeper, richer, with a commanding presence that matches his new physique—broad shoulders, a strong back, and a frame that exudes strength. His face has become more defined and masculine, with a pronounced jawline and an Adam’s apple that stands out, adding to his overall allure.
Silas is no longer just attractive; he’s become a force of nature.
Later that morning, the man responsible for making my life a living hell leans casually against the doorway of what will soon be my office. My focus is locked on the monitor until a shift in the air draws my attention, and when I glance up to see him, my stomach somersaults.
“My coffee?” he asks Stella, ignoring me completely.
“I’ll bring it in a second.”
He nods and disappears, only to reappear half a second later. “Have Lauren bring it.”
Damn you, Silas, you are enjoying this, aren’t you?
According to Stella, Silas prefers his coffee from the building’s bar with skim milk and stevia. So, within ten minutes, I’m knocking on his door, coffee in hand.
He grabs the cardboard cup without even glancing at me, then pauses for a moment, as if considering something. “It’s cold.”
I frown. “No, it’s not. I can feel the temperature through the cardboard.”
He stops what he’s doing and focuses on me. “Precisely, it’s cold. Taste it.”
Sighing, I open the lid and rest my lips on the edge. The liquid barely touches my sensitive skin, making me pull away.
I look at him with furious eyes, and he meets my gaze with a half-smile. He did it on purpose! He grabs the cup from my hand and starts drinking the coffee as if nothing happened. I turn on my heel and walk away from him toward the door.
“Bunny ...” he calls.
“I said not to call me that, Silas.”
“Right, I’m sorry, it’s a habit ...Lauren. I need you to come with me today. I’m showing an apartment to one of my father’s friends. I want you to join me.”
I’d love to say my chest is bursting with excitement at the chance to finally start working, but instead, all I can focus on is hearing him say those words—words I used to fantasize about during my teenage years when I was just a pathetic nerd dreaming of moments like this.
“Okay. What time do you need me?”
Silas pauses, his eyes on me, processing my response. I can tell it's going to take some time for both of us to get used to these new roles.“In half an hour. Be ready.”
“Got it.” I leave the office, grinning as I head over to Stella. “He wants me to go to a showing!”
“That’s fantastic! Soak up everything you can. Silas is a master when it comes to selling. You’re going to learn a ton from him.”
While I wait for Silas to head out, Stella goes over the itinerary for the next few weeks while she’s on leave. Silas has an incredibly packedschedule. On some days, he’s in meetings until eleven in the evening and on others, he’s tied up with media engagements, like interviews with the New York Times. It's clear that his days are as intense as they are long.
“Lauren, let’s go,” Silas commands in his firm, authoritative tone.
I quickly stand up, grab my bag, and hurry after him. Naturally, he’s not waiting for me. He strides ahead toward the elevator, his eyes glued to his cell phone. Every so often, he lets out a quiet chuckle. I try to ignore the burning curiosity about who he’s talking to and focus instead on the elevator's number display, watching as it ticks down to the basement where I assume his car is parked. When the doors slide open, Silas finally puts his phone away and walks with purpose toward a sleek, black Mercedes.
“Wow, I could never drive something this expensive,” I whisper to myself, unable to hide my awe. This happens to me sometimes—verbalizing thoughts. It’s normal, and all I can do now is deal with the embarrassment.
“Why not?” he asks, frowning as he stops by the driver's side door.
