Jealous
587 Words
By the time Friday rolled around, Aria had her first real client meeting since the engagement—and a surprisingly familiar name attached to it.
Nate Hollis.
A creative director from her old agency. Charming, smart, with just enough hipster scruff to suggest he owned four vintage cameras and used none of them for work.
They hadn’t dated. But they almost did. And that “almost” lingered longer than Aria ever admitted.
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The Meeting
They met at a café in SoHo that screamed I'm cool but I recycle. Aria wore a sage-green jumpsuit, gold hoops, and confidence like perfume.
Nate looked up as she walked in. “Aria Munroe. Still the sharpest person in the room.”
She smiled. “And you’re still overcompensating with compliments, I see.”
They hugged—brief, but a little too long to be just professional.
The meeting was great. Easy. They laughed, brainstormed, even flirted in the way old coworkers sometimes do when they’ve both grown up just enough.
And then it happened.
Nate glanced at her ring finger.
“So… Elias Carter?” he asked, sipping his espresso. “Did not see that coming.”
Aria blinked. “What do you mean?”
“Just… he’s the guy people pitch start-ups to, not marry. You always said you wanted someone grounded.”
She lifted her chin. “Elias is more grounded than people think.”
Nate tilted his head. “Is it real?”
Aria smiled sweetly. “You’ll just have to wait for the wedding photos.”
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Back at the Penthouse
Elias was in the kitchen, eating almonds like they were part of his job description. He looked up when Aria entered.
“How’d it go?” he asked.
“Good,” she said, toeing off her boots. “Nate Hollis—remember him?”
His face didn’t change. But his energy did.
“Hollis,” he repeated.
“We worked together at Greenline. He’s running the new campaign for a fashion brand. Wants to loop me in.”
“And... you two used to date?” he asked casually. Too casually.
Aria smirked. “No. We danced around it. But nothing happened.”
Elias nodded slowly. Then, after a beat, added, “He seemed interested in more?”
She tilted her head. “Why do you care?”
“I don’t,” he said too fast.
Aria stepped closer. “Jealousy wasn’t in the contract.”
“I’m not jealous.”
“You’re so jealous.”
He looked straight at her. “Maybe I don’t like the idea of someone else seeing what I see.”
Her breath caught. “And what do you see, Elias?”
The air between them tightened.
He stepped closer.
“You’re brilliant,” he said. “You’re real. You make everything in this penthouse feel less like a museum and more like a home. That’s what I see.”
For a second, Aria forgot the contract. Forgot the timelines, the appearances, the fake smiles.
Then she stepped back. “Don’t say things like that unless you mean them.”
“I don’t say anything I don’t mean,” Elias said.
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That Night
Aria tossed in bed, the words looping in her mind.
You make this place feel like home.
This wasn’t part of the deal. Emotional honesty was a gray area they hadn’t written clauses for.
But somewhere deep inside, Aria knew the truth:
She wanted him to break the contract.
And not for legal reasons.
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- Writer
