Chapter Four
1226 Words
Elena pov
The office was buzzing with the soft hum of keyboards and the occasional ring of phones when I finally managed to concentrate on my screen. After yesterday’s chaos, all I wanted was one boring, uneventful day. Just me, my reports, and maybe only ten cups of coffee instead of fifteen. But of course, boring was not my fate.
The whispering started slowly. Two desks over, then three more. Then the giggles. The kind of giggles people do when something or someone fascinating has entered the building.
I tried to ignore it at first. Focus, Elena. Pivot tables. Not gossip. Pivot tables.
But when even Ms. Grant walked past with the tiniest twitch of a smile, my curiosity snapped. I turned in my chair, casually, like I was stretching my neck. And then, I locked eyes with him. Mystery Man.
Standing tall near the CEO’s office, deep in conversation with Mr. Alcott himself.
I swear, my soul left my body.
You’ve got to be kidding me. Again? What is he, a magician? Does he teleport into my life just to ruin my blood pressure?
And as if to prove my theory, he looked right at me. Smirked. That same maddening, “I know your secrets” smirk that made my cheeks burn.
I whipped back around so fast I nearly gave myself whiplash. By the time I dared to glance again, he was gone.
Good. Stay gone. Please stay gone.
Later that evening, I trudged through our apartment door, tossing my bag onto the couch. Sophie was sprawled in her usual spot, scrolling through her phone with the smug look of someone who’d had a stress-free day.
“You look like you fought a war,” she said without looking up.
“I did,” I muttered, collapsing beside her. “Mystery Man was in my office today.”
Her head snapped up. “No way. Again?”
“Yes way! He was talking to the CEO like they were best friends. And then he vanished, just poof gone.”
Sophie burst out laughing, clutching a pillow. “Oh my God, Elena, he’s haunting you. This is your ghost romance story.”
“This is my nightmare,” I groaned, covering my face. “He keeps popping up everywhere. First the gala, then the boardroom, now the office. What’s next? Is he going to show up in our kitchen making pancakes?”
Sophie grinned. “I wouldn’t complain if a handsome guy made me pancakes.”
I threw the pillow at her.
“Anyway,” she said, still laughing, “you got a package while you were at work.”
That got my attention. “Package? From who?”
She pointed at the coffee table, where a neatly wrapped box sat with a cream ribbon tied around it. Curious, I pulled it closer, peeled away the ribbon, and opened the lid. Inside was a beautiful necklace, delicate silver with a tiny heart-shaped pendant.
My breath caught.
There was a card.
I unfolded it and read:. Thought this might remind you of old times. I would love to catch up if you’re free. Joe
“Joe?” I whispered. My childhood friend. The boy who used to walk me home from school, who once shared his candy stash with me for a whole summer, who I may or may not have had a massive crush on before, life carried us in different directions.
Sophie gasped. “Joe? Your Joe?!” She practically jumped off the couch. “Elena, that’s adorable. Your childhood crush sent you a gift! This is better than a romance movie!”
I rolled my eyes, though my cheeks were warm. “It’s not adorable. It’s just surprising. That’s all.”
“Surprising, my foot,” she said, clutching the necklace dramatically. “This is fate, Elena! Childhood friends to lovers!”
“Calm down,” I muttered, but I was already pulling out my phone. My fingers hovered over the screen before I typed: Thank you for the beautiful gift, Joe. It means a lot. I’d love to catch up.
A reply came almost instantly: Glad you liked it. There’s a restaurant I’d like to take you to tomorrow evening. I’ll pick you up at 7.
Sophie squealed. “He’s fast! Elena, this is happening. You’re going on a date with Joe.”
“It’s not a date,” I insisted, though my stomach fluttered nervously. “It’s just catching up.”
“Sure,” she said with a grin that screamed date.
The next evening, the doorbell rang at exactly 7 p.m.
Sophie practically sprinted to the door before I could stop her. She swung it open and let out a low whistle. “Well, hello, stranger. Look at you big and handsome now.”
I shoved her aside, mortified. “Sophie!”
Joe laughed, his eyes warm as they landed on me. “It’s good to see you again, Elena.”
He looked different, of course. Taller, broader, his boyish features sharpened into something more of a man. But his smile, the one I remembered from childhood, was exactly the same. Familiar, safe.
“Good to see you too,” I said softly.
Sophie smirked. “Don’t stay out too late, kids.” She winked, then shut the door behind us.
I groaned. “Ignore her.”
“She hasn’t changed, has she?” Joe chuckled as we walked toward his car.
“Not one bit,” I said, smiling despite myself.
The restaurant he chose was elegant but cozy, with warm lighting and the faint smell of roasted garlic in the air. We settled into a booth by the window, and conversation flowed easily, like no time had passed at all.
“So,” Joe said, leaning back, “tell me everything. What have you been up to all these years?”
I laughed. “Oh, you know. Surviving questionable bosses, overdosing on coffee, crashing galas.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Crashing galas?”
“Long story,” I said quickly, waving it off. “What about you? What brings you back to town?”
“Work, mostly,” he said. “But I also missed it here. Missed the people. Missed you.”
My cheeks warmed. “Well, I’m glad you reached out.”
Dinner went on like stories, laughter, nostalgia. For the first time in a while, I felt relaxed, like I was twelve again and sitting on the swings with him, sharing secrets we thought were earth-shattering.
And then it happened.
That feeling. That prickling sensation of being watched.I froze, fork halfway to my mouth. Slowly, I scanned the restaurant. And there across the room, partially hidden in the shadows of another booth was a pair of eyes I knew all too well.
Dark. Intense. Smirking.
My breath caught.
Oh no. Not again. It was him. Mystery Man.I blinked, heart pounding, but he didn’t look away. He just sat there, watching me like I was the only person in the room.
Why? Why is he here? Why now?
Joe was still talking, oblivious. But I couldn’t focus. Not with those eyes burning into me.
Because ever since that gala, ever since his arm had slipped so casually around my waist, one thought had haunted me. And it was this: Why does he keep showing up?
- Writer
