His gaze found hers, direct and sure. “Like I said before, I wouldn’t have met you anywhere else but work.” His voice dipped, low and even, and the truth of it hovered in the space between them.
She froze, her playful comment stopping before she said it. His words seemed to make the room go quiet.
“Well,” she said after a beat, her expression shifting as she processed the underlying tone. She straightened, her spine stiffening, her voice cooler now, more distant. “I didn’t realize we were that different.”
He exhaled. “Not different, but from different circles.”
Devney offered a small, tight smile. “Ah, circles. Right. Mine tend to be less…gilded, I suppose. More prone to glitter pens than golf courses.”
“Let’s move on. We still need to decide how long we claim we’ve been together.”
A short, humorless laugh escaped her as she shook her head. “You know, if you can’t even see this working, how is anyone else supposed to believe it?”
“We can be believable.”
“Good. Then let’s figure out how.”
The conference room felt strangely cozy, a lamp casting light on the open notebook between them.
“Let me grab my sword and shield.” Her pen was poised. “What’s our first dragon to face?”
“Timing.” His delivery was crisp. “He’ll question why this is happening suddenly. He knows I don’t make impulsive decisions.”
“Which is why we lean into that. We tell him it’s been building. We wanted to be sure before going public. You’re measured, I’m practical—it fits.”
He considered her answer. “Fine. But he’ll also dig into how we met. You said earlier that he might not buy into an office romance.”
“Good thing this isn’t technically an office romance.” A sly grin touched her lips. “It’s a professional connection that blossomed outside work hours. Think of it as romantic overtime.”
“Romantic overtime?” The corners of his lips curved.
“Yes. Trademark pending.” She jotted a note. “Next objection?”
“Chemistry,” he stated bluntly. “He’ll want to see proof. Real moments that sell the relationship.”
“Easy. We talk about inside jokes, quirks, how you actually smile when no one’s looking.”
“I don’t smile,” he corrected.
“Precisely. It’s believable because it’s realistic. And if he still doubts us, we dazzle him with a ridiculously romantic proposal story—one so swoony he won’t question a thing.”
“Right, the proposal,” he said dryly. “Because that will be a breeze.”
“We’ll get there.” Her confidence didn’t waver. “Beauchamp won’t know what happened. What else?”
He hesitated, drumming his fingers against the table. He wasn’t sure if he was more irritated or impressed by how naturally she steered the conversation. Their rhythm was effortless—too effortless. He glanced at her, her expression lit by the lamplight, and felt an unsettling quality creep in. He recognized, with some discomfort, that he was starting to depend on her.
“Okay, time-out. My brain’s officially fried.” She dropped her pen and stretched dramatically. “We need food before we lose all sense of humanity.”
Thirty minutes later, they were unpacking cartons of pad thai and spring rolls, the spicy-sweet aroma filling the room.
“All right.” She spoke through a mouthful of noodles, unbothered by decorum. “Let’s brainstorm proposal settings. Somewhere meaningful. Romantic. Memorable.”
“Meaningful.” He poked at a spring roll with his chopsticks. “We’ve known each other for six months. Define meaningful.”
“Your lake house.” Her suggestion came without hesitation as she set her takeout box aside. Her voice took on a quieter, wistful quality. “Think about it. Calm, close, only the two of us. Imagine the sun setting over the water, the whole place glowing gold. You’d have a ring in your pocket, nerves kicking in, andyou’d go for it, no hesitation. No speeches, no grand gestures. Simple and real.”
Her words made the scene so clear that for a moment he forgot it wasn’t real. The lake house offered silence and solitude, its sunsets breathtaking. And the thought of standing there with her, caught in that golden light…
