The Necklace
1064 Words
I stared at the necklace the next morning. It looked harmless enough under the bathroom light—thin silver chain, tiny diamond pendant—but I couldn’t shake the thought that someone had left it at my door.
Still, curiosity won. I clasped it around my neck before work, half daring the world to react.
By the time I reached the office, the chatter had already begun about a new contract Jayden was negotiating. I slipped into my seat, pretending to be calm while my heart thudded like it had its own agenda. Chloe noticed first.
“New jewelry?” she asked, eyebrows wiggling.
“Found it,” I said, too quickly.
“Found it? Girl, if I ‘found’ something like that, I’d start checking for hidden cameras.”
I laughed, but my fingers brushed the pendant again. It felt warm against my skin, like it had been waiting for me.
The morning meeting came fast. Jayden was already there when I walked in—perfect suit, perfect posture, that air of authority that filled a room before he even spoke. I sat two chairs down, trying to focus on the presentation slides.
Then his eyes found me.
It wasn’t immediate; it was a slow drag of his gaze from the screen to my throat. For a heartbeat, his words faltered. The silence was small but it hit like thunder in my chest. He recovered instantly, voice crisp, continuing as if nothing had happened. But every time I shifted, I felt his attention like a pulse.
When the meeting ended, everyone began filing out. Jayden’s voice stopped me at the doorway.
“Ms. Sanders. A moment.”
The others pretended not to hear, though Chloe gave me a look that said good luck surviving that. I turned back.
“Yes, sir?”
His gaze dropped again—barely noticeable, but I caught it. “The necklace,” he said. “It suits you.”
It shouldn’t have made my stomach flutter, but it did. “Thank you,” I murmured, touching it lightly. “It was… a gift.”
“From who?” The question came too fast, like he hadn’t meant to ask it aloud. He leaned back in his chair, correcting himself. “I only asked because we have a policy about staff accepting gifts from clients.”
“Not from a client,” I said. “Just… anonymous.”
The corner of his mouth tightened, then smoothed. “Be careful with anonymous things. They usually come with a price.”
I swallowed. “Noted, sir.”
He nodded once, dismissing me. “Prepare the quarterly files for the board review tomorrow.”
---
By midday, I could barely keep my mind on numbers. My phone lay on the desk beside me, dark screen glowing every few minutes as I refreshed the chat that still had no reply.
Andrew: Last seen 2 hours ago.
I typed another message—Please, can we talk? I’m sorry. Don’t end this like that.—then deleted it before sending. My reflection on the screen looked pathetic.
“Is that work-related?” Jayden’s voice made me jump. He stood beside my desk, too close. How long had he been there?
“No, sir. Personal.”
He waited, expression unreadable. “Your husband,” he said finally. Not a question. “He’s the reason you keep staring at that phone.”
I sighed. “He wants a divorce. I’m trying to fix it, but he won’t answer.” I forced a smile that didn’t feel right. “Guess I still believe some things are worth fighting for.”
Jayden studied me, the muscle in his jaw ticking once before he spoke. “Don’t waste your time on someone who’s already decided you’re not enough.”
The words landed like ice and warmth at the same time. For a moment I couldn’t move.
“Maybe he just needs time,” I said quietly.
He stepped closer, lowering his voice until it was barely above a whisper. “Time doesn’t heal what was never broken by accident.” His gaze held mine for too long before he straightened. “You’ll have the reports on my desk by five.”
He walked away, leaving his cologne and those words lingering like smoke.
---
I tried to lose myself in work, but concentration was a joke. Every sound—the click of his door, the hum of the printer—pulled me back to that moment. The way he’d looked at me when he said not enough.
Like he knew exactly what that felt like.
When I finally brought the finished reports to his office, he was standing by the window, city lights spilling over his shoulders. He didn’t turn right away.
“Leave them on the desk,” he said.
I did, waiting for permission to leave, but something made me speak instead. “You were right. About not wasting time.”
He turned then, eyes unreadable in the dim light. “I’m right about most things, Ms. Sanders.”
“Except people,” I said before I could stop myself. “Sometimes they surprise you.”
For the first time, something flickered across his face—not anger, not amusement, just… a quiet recognition. “And sometimes they don’t,” he murmured.
I nodded, unsure what to say. “Goodnight, sir.”
I turned to leave, hand already on the doorknob, when his voice stopped me.
“Ms. Sanders.”
I froze. “Sir?”
There was a pause—long enough for my pulse to stumble—before he spoke again.
“Dress beautifully tomorrow.”
I blinked, confused. “Excuse me?”
He looked at me then, really looked, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips. “You’ll see why.”
- Writer
