I wiped it myself, pretending to focus on my food. Still... something fluttered in my chest. A sudden flicker of awareness.
When we finished, I started gathering the trash, but Harley stopped me, taking them out of my hands.
“I got it.”
“You’re weirdly eager to help today,” I muttered.
He tossed the trash. “Boss looks tired,” he said lightly. “I’m compensating.”
I tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “Coffee?”
“Sure,” he grinned. “But I’m paying.”
I gave him a look. “No. This one’s mine.”
He lifted both eyebrows but didn’t argue. “Alright. I’ll at least stand with you in line.”
The line was long. We stood close—closer than usual—but the space was narrow, and neither of us stepped back. Still, the closeness felt noticeable.
Harley leaned forward slightly, speaking near my ear. “The usual?” He asked.
I nodded.
Then he turned to the counter and told the barista, “Can I get a latte, not too sweet, and one black coffee?”
When the drinks were ready, Harley grabbed both cups before handing one to me.
“Yours.”
“Thanks,” I said, taking it.
Our fingers brushed accidentally, and when our eyes met, my heart lurched just enough to confuse me, but I ignored it immediately.
Harley held the door open as we stepped out of the café. I walked ahead of him, shaking my head at myself. He was my junior, someone I’d known for years, someone harmless.
But what was that?
—?—
Harley
Relationships were never my thing. I never saw the point of building something that could crumble the second you look away. But my perspective started to shift the moment I met her.
It was my very first day at the company, and to be honest, I wasn’t exactlyhired. One of my father’s business associates—a senior executive here—offered me the job. My family runs a company of our own, and I’m expected to take over eventually. But my father insisted I work somewhere else first, learn discipline, learn how the real world operates outside the safety of our last name. The plan was simple: stay here for three or four years, gather experience, then leave.
And then they assigned me a mentor.
Elena.
The first time I saw her, she didn’t look like the type of woman who usually caught my attention. Her beauty wasn’t the kind that made men turn their heads right away. She wasn’t model-slim; she had curves, soft edges, something real. She wasn’t tall, but she wasn’t short either.
But something about her stood out in a way I couldn’t explain. Maybe it was the way she carried herself, or maybe it was the moment she started talking. Because once she did, those hazel eyes locked on you with this quiet confidence, and it was impossible to look anywhere else.
She was frighteningly smart. Calm, controlled, effortlessly composed. She was kind too, but she never blurred boundaries. Working with her every day only pulled me in deeper, made me want to know her more. Each day, I found myself wanting to get closer. Nothing obvious, just enough for her to notice me.
Call me foolish, but sometimes I’d skip a number in a report just to give myself an excuse to stand at her desk a little longer. Pathetic, maybe. But I kept doing it anyway. Because some stupid part of me hoped she’d fall for me eventually.
All of that shattered the day she walked into the office with envelopes in her hand.
