LINES THAT BLUR
1315 Words
The drive back to Blackwood & Vale was silent.
Not awkward.
Not comfortable either.
Just tense in the kind of way that made Vivian hyperaware of every small movement inside Damien Blackwood’s car.
Rain battered softly against the windows while the city lights blurred outside, streaking gold and white across the glass. Damien drove with one hand resting loosely against the steering wheel, expression unreadable beneath the glow of passing streetlights.
Vivian sat beside him trying very hard not to think about the fact that she’d just left a rooftop lounge with one man only to end up alone in a car with another.
Neither situation felt safe anymore.
“You should’ve checked the files before leaving,” Damien said finally.
There it was.
Work.
Safe territory.
“I did check them.”
“Clearly not carefully enough.”
Vivian turned toward him sharply.
“I attached every version before I left.”
“And yet the final revision is missing.”
“You think I’m lying?”
Damien’s jaw tightened slightly.
“I think you’re distracted.”
The accusation settled heavily between them.
Vivian stared at him in disbelief.
“Excuse me?”
His grip shifted slightly against the steering wheel.
“You’ve spent the entire day entertaining Roman Ellis.”
“Entertaining?”
Damien finally glanced at her.
Cold gray eyes.
Controlled irritation.
“You know exactly what I mean.”
Something inside Vivian snapped quietly.
“I spoke to opposing counsel professionally.”
“At a bar.”
“I didn’t know he would be there.”
“No,” Damien said calmly. “But you still stayed.”
The car slowed at a red light.
Rain thundered harder overhead.
Vivian folded her arms tightly.
“You don’t get to question my personal life.”
Damien looked forward again.
“Then stop making personal decisions that affect this firm.”
The words hit harder than they should have.
Not because they were cruel.
Because they sounded genuine.
And suddenly Vivian understood something unsettling:
Damien wasn’t angry about Roman professionally anymore.
He was angry emotionally.
The realization made her chest tighten unexpectedly.
The rest of the drive passed in silence.
But not empty silence.
Heavy silence.
The kind that felt one sentence away from becoming dangerous.
When they finally arrived at the office building, the entire lobby was nearly empty except for security and the overnight reception staff.
Vivian stepped out of the elevator first once they reached the thirty-second floor.
The firm looked different at night.
Softer.
Darker.
The endless pressure temporarily hidden beneath dimmed lights and quiet hallways.
But Damien’s presence behind her kept the tension alive.
Always.
Vivian moved quickly toward her desk and opened her laptop immediately.
“Give me five minutes.”
Damien removed his coat slowly and draped it over the back of a chair near her desk.
“You have three.”
She shot him a look.
He ignored it completely.
Vivian searched through the sent files again, frustration building rapidly as she checked the attachments.
Version one.
Version two.
No final draft.
“That’s impossible,” she muttered quietly.
Damien leaned one shoulder against the glass wall beside her desk.
Watching.
Not helping.
Watching.
Vivian opened the original file folder quickly.
Still there.
Still saved.
She exhaled sharply.
“It never attached.”
“That’s what I said.”
She looked up. “You could try sounding less pleased about this.”
“I’m not pleased.”
“You look pleased.”
Damien’s expression remained perfectly calm.
“That’s just my face.”
Vivian almost laughed.
Almost.
She emailed the corrected file immediately before leaning back in her chair with visible exhaustion.
“It’s fixed.”
Damien nodded once.
Neither moved after that.
The office remained quiet except for distant thunder outside and the faint hum of city traffic thirty-two floors below.
Vivian rubbed lightly at her temple.
God, she was tired.
“You should go home,” Damien said suddenly.
She blinked.
That was unexpected.
“You first.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
A pause.
Then Damien walked toward her desk slowly.
Too slowly.
Vivian instinctively looked up at him.
Big mistake.
Because proximity always made Damien harder to ignore.
Tonight was worse somehow.
Maybe because the office was empty.
Maybe because Roman’s name had already poisoned the atmosphere between them.
Or maybe because Damien looked at her differently lately.
Less like an employee.
More like a problem he didn’t know how to solve.
He stopped beside her chair.
Close enough that she could smell cedarwood and rain lingering faintly against his clothes.
“Why him?” Damien asked quietly.
Vivian frowned immediately.
“What?”
“Roman Ellis.”
Her heartbeat stumbled once.
“This again?”
“You’re distracted around him.”
“That’s none of your business.”
His gaze held hers steadily.
“It becomes my business when it compromises your judgment.”
“There’s my judgment again.”
Damien’s voice lowered slightly.
“You’re usually sharper than this.”
The words should’ve sounded like criticism.
Instead, they sounded personal.
Intimate, almost.
Vivian stood too quickly, forcing distance between them.
“You’re overreacting.”
“Am I?”
“Yes.”
“Then tell me you weren’t flirting with him tonight.”
Heat rushed into her face instantly.
“That’s ridiculous.”
Damien stepped closer.
Not aggressively.
But enough.
Enough to make the air shift.
“You smiled at him.”
Vivian stared at him.
“You cannot possibly be serious right now.”
“You smiled,” he repeated quietly.
The intensity in his voice unsettled her more than anger would have.
Because jealousy looked dangerously good on Damien Blackwood.
And that was a problem.
A massive problem.
“You’re my boss,” she said carefully.
The reminder changed something in his expression instantly.
A wall sliding back into place.
Cold restraint returning.
Damien took one small step back.
Professional distance restored.
But too late.
The moment had already happened.
And both of them knew it.
Vivian’s pulse still hadn’t settled when her phone buzzed loudly against the desk between them.
The sound shattered the silence.
Unknown number again.
Damien’s eyes dropped toward the screen immediately.
So did hers.
But this time, there was no mystery.
Roman Ellis.
Neither spoke for a second.
Then Damien said flatly:
“Answer it.”
Vivian looked up slowly.
“What?”
“Answer him.”
His tone was unreadable now.
Too calm.
Which made it worse.
Vivian hesitated before finally pressing accept.
“Hello?”
Roman’s warm voice filled the line instantly.
“I was beginning to think you ignored people after business hours.”
Vivian became painfully aware of Damien standing only a few feet away.
Watching her.
Every second.
“I’m at work,” she replied carefully.
“At nearly midnight?”
Roman sounded amused. “Blackwood really is determined to ruin your quality of life.”
Damien’s jaw tightened visibly.
Vivian should end the call.
Immediately.
Instead, she found herself asking:
“What do you want, Roman?”
The use of his first name changed the room instantly.
Damien went completely still.
On the other end of the line, Roman noticed too.
His voice softened slightly.
“I wanted to ask you something.”
Vivian swallowed carefully.
“What?”
A pause.
Then:
“Dinner tomorrow night.”
Silence.
Absolute silence.
Even the storm outside suddenly felt quieter.
Vivian’s heart began beating harder for reasons she didn’t entirely understand.
Across from her, Damien’s expression became dangerously unreadable.
Roman continued calmly:
“No legal discussions. No Morrison case. Just dinner.”
Vivian opened her mouth.
Closed it again.
Because suddenly the answer didn’t feel simple anymore.
And judging by the look in Damien Blackwood’s eyes—
he understood that too.
Silence filled the whole room like a heavy fog that can't be cleared anytime soon
- Writer
