Chapter 4 – A Line in the Morning
1181 Words
By the time I reached the office, the storm had cleared, but the air still felt heavy. Puddles shimmered along the pavement, catching streaks of sunrise and glass towers. The city buzzed faintly, too awake for comfort.
I was early, as usual. The building was quiet, the lights dim. Except one. His.
Straightening my blouse, I stepped into the elevator, then down the hall. My heels echoed against the marble.
I knocked.
“Come in,” his voice said, rough and low.
Ethan stood behind his desk, sleeves rolled, morning light tracing the sharp lines of his face. His gaze caught mine, steady, unreadable.
“You’re always punctual,” he said.
“So are you, sir.”
“I don’t sleep much.”
“I can tell.”
A flicker of a smile. “And you? Can’t stay away?”
I ignored the bait and handed over the schedule.
“Cancel the ten o’clock with Nolan,” he said.
“It’s an investor briefing.”
“I’m aware.”
“You’ll lose leverage if—”
“Cancel it, Ava.”
My name again, quiet but final. “Understood.”
I turned to leave.
“You didn’t answer my message last night.”
“I didn’t think it required one.”
“It did.”
“You said, ‘Go home.’ I went home.”
He studied me for a long moment. “You’re impossible.”
“I’ve been called worse.”
He stepped closer, not touching, but close enough for the air to shift.
“You have a smart mouth.”
“Do you prefer silence?”
“Sometimes.”
“I’ll work on that.”
“I doubt it.”
His gaze dropped, briefly, before he turned away. “Prepare the draft for the Singapore deal by noon. And wear something darker tomorrow.”
“Excuse me?”
“Red distracts people.”
“Does it distract you?”
That made him pause. “Don’t start something you don’t want to finish.”
“I didn’t start anything.”
“Good,” he said quietly. “Keep it that way.”
But his look said something else entirely.
By nine, the office was alive again, the usual hum of calls and footsteps filling the space. I buried myself in work, trying to drown out the echo of his voice. But through the glass, I could feel his presence.
Sometimes he looked up mid-call, eyes brushing mine through the reflection. Never long, but long enough.
When the call ended, he motioned for me.
“Sit,” he said.
I did.
“Do you know why I keep you around, Ava?”
“Because I’m competent.”
“That’s one reason.”
“And the other?”
He leaned back, drumming his fingers on the desk. “You don’t flinch.”
“Should I?”
“Most people do.”
“Maybe you’re not as intimidating as you think.”
He laughed once, dry and short. “Careful.”
“I’m just saying—”
“I know.” His tone dropped lower. “And you’re wrong.”
Silence stretched between us, charged but still.
Then he said, “I want you in the meeting with Harrington later.”
“That’s not on the schedule.”
“It is now.”
“You always rearrange things at the last minute?”
“Only when necessary.”
“And this is?”
He smiled faintly. “You’ll see.”
By mid-morning, Mark brushed past me in the hall, coffee in hand. “He’s in one of his moods.”
“When isn’t he?”
Mark smirked. “You handle it better than most.”
“Define handle.”
“You’re still here.”
Inside the meeting room, Ethan was already with Harrington, the Singapore rep, loud, charming, and too sure of himself.
“Is this your new assistant?” Harrington asked.
“She’s not new,” Ethan said.
“Pretty one,” Harrington added. “Bet she keeps things interesting.”
My jaw tightened.
“Careful,” Ethan said quietly. “You’re in my building.”
Harrington chuckled. “Relax. Just an observation.”
“Observe silently.”
The air stilled. Harrington backed off.
When the meeting ended, he left with a grin. Ethan didn’t return.
I started gathering papers. Ethan’s voice stopped me.
“You handled that well.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“Exactly.”
He leaned on the table, eyes softer now. “Most people would’ve tried to defend themselves.”
“I didn’t want to make a scene.”
“You didn’t have to.”
He stepped closer. “He won’t speak like that again.”
“Because you scared him?”
“Because I wanted to.”
“Why?”
He didn’t answer, just looked at me like he was trying to figure out what line he’d already crossed.
Then Mark entered. “Sir, call from New York.”
“I’ll call back.”
When Mark left, I gathered the papers again. “I’ll file these.”
He didn’t respond right away. Then, quietly—“Ava.”
I froze. “Yes?”
“Close the door.”
My pulse jumped. I shut it and turned. “Is there a problem?”
He studied me, gaze flicking from my eyes to my mouth. “You really don’t know, do you?”
“Know what?”
He took a slow step forward, then another. The desk pressed against my thighs.
“You make it very hard to focus.”
“Maybe you should try harder.”
He gave a soft laugh. “You think this is a game?”
“Isn’t it?”
“Not for me.”
Something in his voice, quiet, raw, cut straight through me.
Then, as if catching himself, he stepped back, measured and composed again. “The meeting’s over. Get back to work.”
I steadied my breath. “Yes, sir.”
My hand was on the door when he said, “Don’t wear red tomorrow.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t trust myself around it.”
The words landed like a secret. I left before I could react.
At my desk, my fingers trembled over the keyboard. The letters blurred, my pulse too loud.
Mark stopped nearby. “Everything all right?”
“Perfectly fine,” I lied.
He watched me, then glanced at Ethan’s office. “He’s different with you.”
“Different how?”
“You’ll figure it out.”
When he left, I stared at my screen, pretending to type. The glass wall reflected everything, the motion of the office, Ethan at his desk, sleeves rolled, head bent.
He looked calm. Unmoved. But I could still feel the static in the air, still hear his voice.
Because I don’t trust myself around it.
I met his eyes in the reflection for a heartbeat. Neither of us looked away.
Then he turned back to his work.
And I did the same.
Only everything had changed.
Something had started, and neither of us could pretend it hadn’t.
- Writer
