Corner Office Confessions

Chapter 3: Crossed Paths

The assignment landed on Nerisa's desk with a sticky note that simply read: Mr. Vance's office. Now.

She read it three times before her brain accepted it as real. Interns didn't go to Mr. Vance's office. Interns existed in a separate ecosystem entirely, one that rarely intersected with the sixty-second floor.

She smoothed her blazer, grabbed her notepad, and made her way there before her nerves could talk her out of it.

His office was exactly what she expected and nothing like it at the same time — floor-to-ceiling windows, minimal furniture, everything in black and steel except for a single photograph on the shelf, turned slightly away from view. Nathan stood at the window, jacket off, sleeves rolled to his forearms, looking out at the city like it owed him something.

"You wanted to see me, sir?"

"Vance is fine." He didn't turn around. "Or Nathan, if you prefer to sound less like you're addressing a headmaster."

She blinked, caught off guard by the almost-dry humor. "Nathan, then."

He finally turned, and for a moment neither of them said anything. His eyes did that thing again — assessing, unreadable, lingering half a second too long before he cleared his throat and gestured to a folder on his desk.

"The Hartley account. I need someone to dig through the numbers and find what everyone else missed. Marla says you're sharp."

"Marla's only spoken to me twice."

"Apparently that was enough." A ghost of something — not quite a smile — crossed his face. "Don't make her wrong."

Nerisa picked up the folder, very aware of how close his hand had been to hers a second ago, and how the air in the room felt several degrees warmer than it should.

"I won't," she said, and meant it in more ways than one.