Disarming Glances
597 Words
The office was quieter at night—almost too quiet. The usual buzz of phones and clipped footsteps had faded into a soft hum of overhead lights and the occasional clack of Zara’s keyboard. Everyone else had gone home hours ago. Everyone except her… and him.
Zara let out a sigh as she leaned back in her chair, massaging the base of her neck. Her laptop screen glowed with open spreadsheets and proposals, but her focus kept slipping. She blamed it on the dim lighting. She blamed it on the late hour. But mostly, she blamed it on the man sitting just behind the glass wall of his office, still very much present.
Aiden Wolfe.
He hadn’t left either. And worse, he seemed perfectly at ease with staying behind, like this office was more home than home itself. Zara tried not to look his way again, but it was impossible not to notice him through the glass—sleeves rolled up, tie loosened, eyes sharp as ever, like he was born to be in control of everything. Including her thoughts.
Damn it.
She needed to concentrate.
Zara shook her head, turned back to her screen, and willed herself to finish the report she’d promised the marketing team. But before she could type another word, she heard the soft sound of a door opening. Her heart sank.
“Still here?” Aiden’s voice came from behind her, deeper in the silence, somehow more intimate without the distance of desks and titles.
Zara stiffened. “I could ask you the same thing.”
She didn’t turn around.
“I live here, remember?” he said, his tone unreadable. “You, on the other hand… what’s your excuse?”
She finally glanced over her shoulder. “Hard work. Deadlines. Your very high expectations.”
He smirked faintly, stepping into the open space. “Flattery, Miss Morgan?”
“Not even close,” she muttered, standing up and gathering her things. “But if you’re here to question my work ethic, maybe save it for business hours?”
“I’m not here to question anything,” he said. “I just noticed the lights were still on.”
She stopped short, surprised. There was no edge in his voice. No smugness. Just… curiosity?
Aiden’s eyes met hers, lingering for a second longer than necessary. In the quiet space between them, something shifted—subtle but undeniable.
“You’re always like this,” he added, softer now. “Defensive. Ready to fight.”
“Maybe because you’re always giving me something to fight against.”
“Maybe,” he said. “Or maybe you’re afraid of letting your guard down.”
Zara’s breath caught in her throat. Her bag slipped a little in her hand. That wasn’t a work comment. That was… personal.
“I don’t have time for this,” she muttered, brushing past him.
But just as she reached the hallway, she felt his hand catch her elbow—gentle, not forceful. She turned, startled. The touch was brief, but the heat of it lingered.
“You’re not invisible, Zara,” he said. “I see how hard you work. I see more than you think.”
Her defenses began to c***k, if only slightly. She stared at him, unsure of what to say. And for a moment, neither of them spoke. The tension between them pulsed like a heartbeat.
Then she stepped back, adjusting the strap on her bag.
“Good night, Mr. Wolfe.”
And she left.
Aiden watched her go, jaw tight, his expression unreadable once more.
- Writer
