Chapter 18 – Off the Clock
423 Words
The restaurant was tucked away on a quiet street just outside the city — elegant but unpretentious, with warm lighting and deep red walls that made the space feel intimate.
Doris had expected somewhere formal. Stiff. High-end.
But this… this felt personal.
Emma stood as she arrived, his tailored navy shirt crisp but without a tie, and for once, he looked like a man, not a CEO. His eyes softened the moment he saw her.
“You found it,” he said.
She smiled, a little breathless. “Barely. I think this place is hiding on purpose.”
“That’s the idea,” he murmured, pulling out her chair.
They sat. The waiter came and went, menus were ignored, and for a few moments, they just… looked at each other. The soft hum of music and the clinking of silverware around them faded to background noise.
“I didn’t want to talk about the office tonight,” Emma said after a moment. “No work. No board. Just… you.”
Doris tilted her head, studying him. “Then what do you want to talk about?”
He paused, then gave a quiet laugh — not cold or sarcastic, but real.
“I want to know what your favorite movie is. What music you play when you clean. What you dream about when you think no one’s watching.”
Her heart fluttered. “That’s not small talk.”
“No,” he said, gaze steady. “It’s the kind of talk I never let myself have.”
Doris swallowed the lump in her throat. “Well… I like sad movies with beautiful endings. I clean to 90s love songs. And I dream about having a life that feels like mine. Not one I just survive.”
His eyes darkened, not with anger — but emotion.
“I can’t promise you peace, Doris,” he said quietly. “My world is built on pressure. But if I could give you something real… even a little part of that dream — would you take it?”
She met his gaze, steady and unafraid. “Only if I can give something back.”
The air between them shifted again, warmer now. Closer.
Their hands met across the table, fingers brushing, then intertwining. No one was watching here. No board. No gossip. Just Emma and Doris — stripped of titles, masks, and fear.
And for the first time, it didn’t feel forbidden.
It felt like the beginning of something neither of them had ever dared to hope for.
- Writer
