Chapter Three: Rules and Boundaries
453 Words
Chapter Three: Rules and Boundaries
(Andrew’s POV – third person)
Andrew arrived early, as always. The skyline outside his window glowed pale gold, a promise of another controlled, predictable day. At least it should have been.
His desk now held two identical coffee cups—one placed precisely on a tray, a small yellow cote stuck to it.
He almost laughed. Almost.
He shouldn’t find it amusing that his secretary thought a Post-it apology was clever, but there it was: the smallest crack in his morning discipline. He set the note aside before anyone could see it and called out, “Ms. Sandra.”
She appeared in the doorway, cautious but smiling.
“Yes, Mr. Austin?”
“Sit.”
She did, notebook open, pen poised. Professional again. He reminded himself that this—order, distance—was how things must stay.
“I’ve reviewed your first reports,” he said. “Efficient, though your formatting is inconsistent. Details matter.”
Her chin lifted. “I’ll fix it.”
“Good. And a few ground rules.”
She blinked. “Rules?”
He folded his hands. “You’re not to stay past office hours unless I request it. You don’t discuss internal affairs outside this room. And—” his gaze flicked up to meet hers, “—no unnecessary familiarity.”
She tilted her head. “You mean…no smiling?”
He hesitated. “Something like that.”
The faintest grin tugged at her lips. “Understood, sir.”
He knew she was teasing him, and against all reason, it didn’t irritate him. It unsettled him.
When she left, the office felt oddly quiet. The world had its rules, and Andrew lived by them—but for the first time in years, someone made him wonder what might happen if he broke one.
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(Katherine’s POV – first person)
Rules, rules, rules.
If Andrew Austin had his way, I’d probably sign a contract promising not to breathe too loudly.
But beneath that perfect suit and those glacier eyes, there was something else—a flicker of curiosity, maybe even warmth. I’d seen it yesterday, right before he’d told me to “stop.”
I knew I should keep things strictly professional. Yet every clipped instruction of his only made me want to challenge him a little more.
When he passed by my desk later, I caught the briefest scent of his cologne—clean, quiet, expensive. He nodded in approval at my corrected files, and something inside me sparked.
Maybe I wasn’t here just to survive this job.
Maybe, without meaning to, I was starting to want his approval for reasons that had nothing to do with work.
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End of chapter 3
- Writer
