Chapter3
1345 Words
Undeniable tension
Amara had never been the type to avoid eye contact. She believed in facing things head-on—whether it was a difficult client or a sharp-tongued coworker. But this... this was different.
Her hand hovered over the office door handle longer than it should have. The engraved plaque gleamed under the hallway light: Liam Hart, CEO.
Liam Hart. Not Daniel.
Her breath caught. Just a few days ago, she had known him under low lighting, whispered laughs, and the scent of whiskey on his breath. Now, the illusion had shattered. He was no stranger. He was her boss.
With a shallow inhale, she pushed the door open.
Liam stood at the far end of the room, back turned, talking on the phone. He was dressed in a tailored charcoal suit, the kind that looked like it had been sewn directly onto his body. His shoulders were broad, posture casual but confident. The air around him shifted the moment she stepped in.
He turned, meeting her eyes.
Something passed between them—too brief to name but heavy enough to steal her breath. Recognition, tension, guilt?
“Thank you, Claire,” he said into the phone before ending the call.
Silence settled between them like an unwanted third party.
“Miss Blake,” he said finally, his voice smooth, but his eyes unreadable. “Please, have a seat.”
She crossed the room slowly, her heels clicking softly against the hardwood. Sitting in front of him made her feel strangely exposed, as though the desk between them wasn’t enough of a barrier. His gaze lingered for a beat too long.
“You’re probably wondering why I asked to speak with you personally,” Liam began.
“I have a few guesses,” she replied, keeping her tone even.
He gave a dry smile, folding his hands on the desk. “Let’s be direct, then.”
A pause.
“I didn’t know who you were that night,” he said quietly. “Not until I saw you walk into the boardroom yesterday morning.”
Amara felt heat rise to her face. She had replayed that night a thousand times in her mind—every look, every kiss, every lie she’d told herself. It was supposed to be a one-time escape, not the start of something humiliating.
“Well,” she said coolly, “we agreed it was a one-time thing. No names, no numbers. So why are we discussing it now?”
His jaw clenched. “Because I don’t want you to think I—used you.”
Her laugh was short, bitter. “Don’t flatter yourself, Liam.”
“Amara.”
The way he said her name—it made something twist in her chest. Too soft, too familiar.
“I’m not looking for anything,” she said, eyes meeting him. “That night was... a mistake. We were both adults. That’s it.”
Liam leaned back in his chair, gaze steady. “Fair enough.”
But something in his expression told her it wasn’t fair at all.
She stood. “Is that all?”
“For now.”
She turned to leave, but his voice stopped her at the door.
“You’re good at your job,” he said. “But if this—makes you uncomfortable, I can transfer you to another division.”
She turned slowly, a flicker of hurt crossing her features. “I didn’t sleep my way into this company, Mr. Hart.”
His eyes narrowed. “I never said you did.”
“Then don’t treat me like I’m fragile. I can handle professionalism. Can you?”
They stared at each other, the tension so thick it practically vibrated in the air.
Finally, she left without another word.
The elevator doors closed, and Amara exhaled for the first time in minutes. Her reflection in the mirrored wall stared back—composed, confident, untouchable. But inside, her chest burned.
She hadn’t expected to feel anything when she saw him again—just shock, maybe discomfort. Not... longing. Not the ache she now carried like a bruise beneath her skin.
She shook her head. It was over. He was her boss now, and that changed everything.
Back at her desk, her phone buzzed.
Text from Tanya:
"Lunch today? I need gossip. Tell me everything about this new CEO."
Amara stared at her phone, thumb hovering over the screen. For a second, she considered telling Tanya the truth—about the night, the lie, the fallout.
But no. That would only make it real.
Her reply:
"Sure. Usual spot at 1."
Later that afternoon, Liam stood alone in his office, staring out the floor-to-ceiling windows at the sprawling city. Los Angeles looked golden in the afternoon sun, its chaos muffled by the glass.
He wasn’t used to feeling... off. But something about Amara had thrown him since the moment he saw her again. She hadn’t asked for anything. No threats, no blackmail, no complications. She’d walked in and carried herself like nothing happened.
But it happened. And he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her since.
There was something real in the way she’d touched him that night. Something grounding. He didn’t want to admit it, but he missed her laugh, the way her guard dropped when she talked about books, or how she closed her eyes when he kissed her.
Liam cursed softly and turned from the window.
He couldn’t let this get messy. He was here to restructure this company. No distractions. Especially not the kind that wore red lipstick and left his sheets cold every morning since.
At lunch, Tanya squinted at Amara over her iced tea. “Okay, you’re weirdly quiet. Spill. What’s going on?”
Amara picked at her salad. “Nothing. Just work.”
“Liar,” Tanya grinned. “You’ve got that post-sinful-weekend glow. Who is he?”
Amara almost choked. “I do not.”
“You do! You look... relaxed. In that ‘I did something I probably shouldn’t have’ way.”
Amara glanced out the café window, trying to dodge the guilt rising in her throat. “It’s no one. Just a random mistake.”
Tanya narrowed her eyes. “Wait—is this about Mr. CEO?”
Amara froze.
“Oh. My. God.” Tanya clapped a hand over her mouth. “You slept with Liam Hart?!”
“Keep your voice down!” Amara hissed, panicked. “And no. I mean—yes. But I didn’t know who he was!”
Tanya burst into laughter, then leaned in. “You, my dear, are living a romance novel. The billionaire mystery man is your new boss? Classic.”
“It’s not funny.”
“It’s a little funny.”
Amara dropped her fork. “This can’t get out, Tanya. Promise me.”
Tanya raised both hands. “You know I’d never. But what now?”
Amara looked down at her hands. “Now... nothing. It’s over.”
Tanya didn’t look convinced. “Are you sure about that?”
No. She wasn’t.
That night, Amara sat curled on her couch, wine glass in hand, her TV playing something she wasn’t watching. Her mind was miles away.
She hadn’t told Liam she was late.
It had only been a few days, and stress could delay things. But still. The thought nagged at her.
She got up and opened the bathroom cabinet, pulling out a small box she’d tried to ignore all week.
The pregnancy test stared up at her like a challenge.
She swallowed hard and closed the door.
Not yet. She couldn’t know. Not tonight.
The next morning, Liam entered the building early, coffee in hand, mind already racing through meetings. But as he passed the creative floor, he caught a glimpse of her.
Amara.
She was standing by the copy machine, arms crossed, face tired but focused.
She hadn’t seen
him.
He paused for a moment, watching her through the glass, unsure what he was hoping to see.
Then, slowly, he turned and walked away.
He wasn’t ready either.
- Writer
