Lunch, Under Observation
350 Words
His office felt different at lunch.
Less battlefield.
More cage.
Two plates were arranged neatly. Proper food. Not takeout.
Velvet sat carefully.
Adrian didn’t touch his fork immediately.
He watched her.
“What do you normally eat?” he asked.
Velvet didn’t miss the trap. He wasn’t asking about food. He was asking about her life.
“Whatever fits between work, school pickup, and bills,” she replied evenly.
Adrian’s eyes flicked to her hands. Her nails were neat. Not flashy.
Disciplined.
Practical.
She didn’t touch the wine glass.
“You don’t drink,” he said.
“Not when I need a clear head.”
Adrian filed that away.
Velvet took a bite, letting the silence stretch until it became uncomfortable on purpose.
Then she asked, “Do you always watch people while they eat?”
Adrian’s gaze remained steady. “I observe.”
“Sounds exhausting.”
A flicker—almost amusement—crossed his face.
“Where did you grow up?” he asked.
Velvet raised a brow. “Is this an interview?”
“It’s information.”
Velvet chose her answers with care. Enough truth to feel human, not enough to feel owned.
Meanwhile, outside the office, Lottie hovered by Velvet’s desk, dying of curiosity. When Velvet returned to grab a document, Lottie grabbed her sleeve.
“Lunch with him?” Lottie whispered dramatically. “You’re braver than the Marines.”
“It wasn’t lunch,” Velvet murmured. “It was surveillance.”
Lottie grinned. “He likes you.”
“He doesn’t like anyone.”
“Exactly.”
Later that day, Velvet’s best friend Mills sent a voice note:
“Velvet Santori, if you end up dating that man, I demand front-row tickets to the drama.”
Velvet rolled her eyes, smiling despite herself.
He’s not my type, she typed back.
But when she turned—
Adrian Vale was standing in his doorway.
Watching her.
And Velvet realized with annoyance that her pulse had betrayed her again.
Not because she wanted him.
Because he made her body act like it had forgotten how to be indifferent.
- Writer
