The vampire in the corner office

The storm

The storm got worse that night, and with it, the power in half of Voss Tower.

Mia was still at her desk at nine — overtime, unpaid, because apparently that was also part of the job description nobody mentioned — when the lights flickered out and the emergency generators kicked the building into dim red emergency lighting.

"Ms. Bennett." Adrian's voice, from his office doorway, edged with something unfamiliar. Concern, maybe.

"I'm fine, I just can't see my screen, which honestly might be an improvement given the state of these expense reports—"

"Come here."

She went, mostly out of curiosity, and found him standing at the window, backlit by lightning, looking like something out of a painting she'd feel guilty for staring at.

"The storm knocked out the north grid," he said. "Elevators are down. You'll need to take the stairs, forty flights, or wait it out."

"Forty flights in heels. Tempting. I'll wait."

He didn't say anything. Neither did she. The silence stretched, comfortable in a way it had no business being, until a crack of thunder made her jump and she stumbled sideways — directly into him.

His hands caught her elbows. Cold, steady, careful, like he was handling something breakable.

"Sorry," she breathed.

"Don't be."

They were close. Too close. Close enough that she could see the amber flicker in his eyes again, could feel the strange, still cold radiating off him like he was standing in his own private winter.

"Adrian," she said — first name, she realized too late, but he didn't correct her — "what are you?"

His gaze dropped to her mouth. For one long second, she was certain he was going to kiss her.

He stepped back instead, jaw tight, putting three feet of red-lit air between them like it was a wall he'd built himself.

"You should go home when the power's back," he said. "Take a cab. I'll cover it."

"Adrian—"

"Goodnight, Ms. Bennett."

The lights flickered back on half an hour later. Mia took the elevator down in silence, heart still hammering, and didn't notice Diane Whitfield watching from the end of the hallway, arms crossed, expression unreadable.

"A word of advice," Diane said the next morning, cornering Mia by the coffee machine. "Know your place here. Mr. Voss doesn't get close to people. Ever. It's better for everyone if it stays that way."

"Is that a warning or a threat?"

Diane smiled thinly. "Consider it professional guidance."

She walked away before Mia could ask what, exactly, she was so afraid of.