My Boss My Ex

Episode 3

The alarm jolted Ayla awake, and she groggily reached for her phone. 7 AM. She had a few hours before Zayn would pick her up. She swung her legs over the side of the bed, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

A text from Rachel popped up: "Hey girl, how's prep for the big dinner? 😏"

Ayla smiled, typing out a response: "Zayn's on my case. I'll fill you in later."

She headed to the shower, the hot water washing away the remnants of sleep. Today was going to be a long day. And with Zayn involved, it was bound to be interesting 😏.Ayla stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around her hair. The mirror was foggy, but she could see the outline of her reflection. She wiped a patch clear and stared at herself, trying to decide what to wear tonight.

Her phone buzzed again – Zayn: "Pick you up at 8. Don't be late."

Ayla rolled her eyes. Like she needed reminding. She typed out a snappy response: "I'll try my best, boss 😏"

She tossed the phone aside and started getting ready, her mind racing with possibilities. What did Zayn have in store for tonight?The clock ticked closer to 8, and Ayla's nerves started to fizzle. She slipped into her dress – a sleek black number that made her feel confident – and did a quick touch-up of her makeup.

The doorbell rang, and Ayla's heart skipped a beat. Showtime.

She grabbed her bag and headed to the door, taking a deep breath before opening it. Zayn stood there, looking sharp in a navy suit, his eyes scanning her from head to toe.

"Ready?" he asked, his voice smooth.

Ayla smiled, feeling a spark of defiance. "Been ready 😏Zayn's eyes lingered on her face, a hint of approval in his gaze. "Let's go, then," he said, gesturing towards the elevator.

The ride down was tense, with Ayla feeling like she was walking into a battle. What was Zayn's game plan? She glanced at him, but his expression was unreadable.

As they stepped out into the cool evening air, Zayn placed a hand on her back, guiding her towards a sleek black car. "Tonight's dinner is at Le Coeur. I hope you're hungry."

Ayla's eyes widened – Le Coeur was one of the city's top restaurants. She slid into the car, trying to keep her cool. The drive to Le Coeur was a blur of city lights and Zayn's smooth conversation about the Henderson account. Ayla played along, impressed despite herself by his grasp of the details.

As they pulled up to the restaurant, Zayn handed the keys to the valet and stepped out, offering Ayla his hand. She took it, feeling a spark of electricity as he helped her out of the car.

Inside, Le Coeur was elegant and intimate, with soft lighting and a buzz of upscale chatter. The maître d' led them to a private table by the window, with views of the city skyline.

Zayn pulled out her chair, his eyes meeting hers. "You look stunning tonight, Ayla."

Ayla's heart skipped a beat. Time to take control.

The drive to Le Coeur was a blur of city lights and small talk. Zayn asked her about her day, and Ayla found herself relaxing into the conversation. Maybe this dinner wouldn't be so bad after all.

As they pulled up to the restaurant, a valet opened Ayla's door, and Zayn handed him the keys. "We'll be inside," he said, offering Ayla his arm.

She hesitated for a moment before taking it, feeling a spark of electricity as their skin touched. Inside, the maître d' greeted Zayn by name and led them to a private table by the window.

Ayla's eyes widened as she took in the view – the city lights twinkled like diamonds below. Zayn pulled out her chair, and she sat down, trying to play it cool. The waiter appeared, presenting them with menus and a wine list. Zayn ordered a bottle of champagne without consulting her, his confidence bordering on arrogance. Ayla raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

As the waiter left, Zayn leaned in, his voice low. "So, Ayla. Tell me about your plans for the Henderson account."

Ayla met his gaze, her tone professional. "I think we should focus on their expansion into Asia. It's a growing market –"

Zayn cut her off, his hand brushing against hers on the table. "I agree. But we need to move fast. Can you handle the pitch?"

Ayla's pulse jumped at the touch. She pulled her hand away, smiling coolly. "I'm ready. The champagne arrived, and Zayn poured her a glass, his eyes locked on hers. Ayla took a sip, feeling the bubbles dance on her tongue. The tension between them was palpable, and she knew she needed to keep her wits about her.

"So, Zayn," she said, setting her glass down, "what's the real reason behind this dinner?"

Zayn leaned back, a hint of a smile on his lips. "Can't I just want to catch up with an old friend?"

Ayla raised an eyebrow. "We're not friends, Zayn. We're colleagues. Barely."

He chuckled, low and husky. "Alright, Ayla. I'll play it straight. I want to make sure you're prepared for the pitch. And I wanted to see you."

Ayla's heart skipped a beat. She leaned in, her voice low. "You've seen me. Now let's talk business. The waiter appeared, taking their orders with a discreet smile. As he left, Zayn leaned in, his eyes glinning with challenge. "Business, then. Tell me, Ayla – what's your strategy for handling the Henderson team's demands?"

Ayla met his gaze, her mind racing. "I think we should play to their strengths. Highlight our team's expertise in Asian markets, and show them how we can maximize their ROI."

Zayn nodded, his expression thoughtful. "Good. But what about the risks?"

Ayla leaned in, her voice confident. "We've got contingency plans in place. We'll mitigate risks and –"

Zayn's phone buzzed, interrupting her. He glanced at it, his jaw tightening for a split second before he looked back at her. "Sorry, Ayla. Work emergency. I need to take this."

Ayla nodded, a spark of amusement in her chest. "Go ahead. Zayn stepped out of the dining area, phone to his ear, leaving Ayla to sip her champagne and people-watch. The restaurant's ambiance wrapped around her – soft jazz, clinking glasses, and muted laughter.

A moment later, Zayn returned, his expression apologetic. "Sorry about that. Crisis averted."

Ayla smiled coolly. "No worries. I enjoyed the break."

He sat down, his gaze lingering on her face. "The food should arrive soon. Hope you're hungry."

As he spoke, the waiter appeared with their starters – seared scallops for her, steak tartare for him. Ayla's eyes widened slightly at the perfectly cooked dish.

Zayn noticed. "Like it?"

Ayla took a bite, letting the flavors melt in her mouth. "It's perfect. Zayn stepped out of the dining area, phone to his ear, leaving Ayla to sip her champagne and people-watch. The restaurant's ambiance wrapped around her – soft jazz, clinking glasses, and the hum of business deals being made.

A minute later, Zayn returned, his expression apologetic. "Sorry about that. Crisis averted."

Ayla smiled sweetly. "No worries. I enjoyed the break."

He sat down, his gaze intense. "Let's get back to business, then. How do you propose we handle Henderson's CEO –"

Their food arrived, and the conversation paused as the waiter served them seared scallops with risotto. As the plates were set down, Zayn leaned in again. "Tell me, Ayla. How do you handle pressure?"

Ayla's eyes met his, a hint of defiance in hers. "I thrive on it. The words hung in the air, and for a moment, they just locked eyes. Zayn's gaze dropped to her lips, and Ayla felt a spark of awareness. She leaned in, her voice barely above a whisper. "So, what's the real test, Zayn?"

Zayn's eyes snapped back to hers, a hint of a challenge in them. "You'll see. Tomorrow, at the meeting. Be ready."

Ayla's smile was slow, her confidence surging. "I'm always ready. The words hung in the air, and Zayn's eyes seemed to darken, his voice low. "I'll remember that."

Ayla took a bite of her scallops, the flavors exploding on her tongue. She glanced up at Zayn, who was watching her with an unnerving intensity.

"What?" she asked, her tone light.

Zayn leaned back, a hint of a smile on his lips. "Just admiring the view."

Ayla's heart skipped a beat. Time to shift the focus. "The food's good, isn't it?"

Zayn's gaze lingered before he nodded. "It's excellent. But I'm more interested in the company. The challenge hung between them, and Ayla could almost feel the air thicken. Zayn's phone buzzed again, but he ignored it, his focus solely on her.

"You're confident," he said, his voice low. "I'll give you that."

Ayla leaned back, her eyes never leaving his. "Not confident. Prepared."

The waiter appeared, clearing their plates and asking about dessert. Zayn raised an eyebrow. "Ayla?"

She shook her head, her mind racing ahead. "Just coffee, thanks.

As the waiter left, Zayn leaned in again. "You're going to need your wits tomorrow.