Chapter 7
493 Words
Camille
The hum of the office was unusually subdued the next morning, but my mind wasn't on quarterly reports or morning meetings. I sat at my desk, staring at my computer screen, but all I could see were Enrique Salazar's dark, knowing eyes and that smirk that seemed to hint at secrets I'd be better off not uncovering.
I hadn't expected the electricity that sparked between us. I'd gone to that lounge expecting a drink with Charlotte, a momentary escape from the war raging inside me. I hadn’t expected him. Not the way he looked at me, not the way he spoke my name like it meant something. And definitely not the way he made me feel—curious, cautious, alive.
"You’re smiling," Charlotte said as she leaned on the edge of my desk, a mischievous glint in her eye.
I blinked, then quickly schooled my expression into something neutral. "I am not."
"You are. You’ve got that look women get when they meet a man who actually knows how to use words and eye contact."
I rolled my eyes, but the warmth in my chest betrayed me. "It was just a conversation."
"Mmm-hmm," Charlotte drawled. "And I'm just a bridesmaid who didn't sleep with the groom."
I laughed, despite myself. It felt good—easy. Something I hadn’t experienced in a long time. But even as I smiled, the tension in my shoulders reminded me not to let my guard down completely.
"It’s complicated," I finally said, leaning back in my chair. "The last thing I need is another man in my life."
Charlotte nodded, her teasing fading into something gentler. "I know. But maybe he's not just another man. You’re different when you’re around him. Not softer, just... more you."
That struck a chord. Because for the first time in a long time, I had felt like me again. Not the shattered woman piecing herself back together in silence. Not the betrayed wife plotting revenge. Just Camille. Strong. Focused. Curious.
My phone buzzed on the desk. A message lit up the screen: Looking forward to our dinner. 7 PM. Salazar
Charlotte peeked at it, her grin returning full force. "And there it is. The beginning of something scandalously entertaining."
I didn’t respond right away. I stared at his message, rereading it, searching for some hidden motive. But all I saw was a line—an invitation. One I could ignore, or one I could walk across.
I tapped out a reply. Looking forward to it too.
Charlotte raised her brows. "So... are we power-dressing for this date, or should I call it a meeting?"
"Let’s call it research," I said with a smirk.
But deep down, I knew it was more than that. This wasn’t just about business. It was about control. Connection. And maybe, just maybe, the start of something I hadn’t dared hope for in a long time.
Whatever it was, it had begun.
And I was all in.
- Writer
