Corner Office Confessions

Chapter 9: The Gala

The invitation sat on Nerisa's desk like a challenge. Vance Enterprises' annual charity gala — black tie, board members, press. Interns weren't usually invited. This one had her name typed in gold script, no explanation attached.

She found Nathan in his office, invitation in hand. "Is this a mistake?"

"No." He didn't look up from his laptop. "I need someone competent handling the Hartley presentation for the donors. That's you."

"That's not the only reason and you know it."

He finally met her eyes, and for once didn't bother denying it. "No. It's not."

The gala was everything she'd imagined and nothing she was prepared for — crystal chandeliers, a string quartet, more wealth in one room than she'd seen in her entire life. She felt like an imposter in her borrowed navy dress until Nathan found her by the bar, and the way he looked at her made the whole room disappear.

"You clean up well, Ms. Smith," he murmured, close enough that only she could hear.

"You don't look so bad yourself, Mr. Vance."

They danced once — one dance, his hand at her waist, hers resting against his chest, close enough to feel his heartbeat racing beneath the composed exterior he wore like armor. Neither of them spoke. Neither of them needed to.

"This is a terrible idea," he said quietly, not pulling away.

"Probably," she agreed, not pulling away either.

The song ended too soon. He walked her to the edge of the terrace after, city lights spread beneath them, and for a long moment neither moved, caught in the pull neither could name anymore.

"Nathan—"

"Don't," he said softly. "If you say my name like that again, I won't be responsible for what happens next."

She held his gaze, steady despite her racing pulse. "Maybe I don't want you to be."