Chapter 5
934 Words
Cassie was halfway through typing up the meeting notes when she heard it.
“Cassie.”
The voice wasn’t loud. It didn’t need to be. It cut across the open floor with surgical precision, finding her like a spotlight in a dark theater.
Her fingers froze over the keyboard. Slowly, she looked up.
Adrian Cole stood outside his office, one hand in his trouser pocket, the other holding a slim leather portfolio. His expression was unreadable, but there was a certain directness in his gaze as if he were already evaluating her before she’d even moved.
“Come with me.”
It wasn’t a request.
Mark, the junior architect sitting across from her, looked up from his monitor, eyebrows raised. His eyes said God help you, but his mouth stayed shut. Nobody interrupted when the Ice King spoke.
Cassie grabbed her notepad and pen. “Where are we going?” she asked, trying for casual.
Adrian’s gaze flicked to her briefly. “Site visit. Holloway Project.”
She blinked. “Today?”
“Now.”
“Oh. Right. Of course.” She stood, nearly catching her headset cord on the edge of the desk. Smooth, Cassie. Really smooth.
He was already walking toward the far end of the hall, and she had to trot to keep up, the echo of her heels following them down the polished concrete corridor.
The private elevator at the end of the hall had no call button. Adrian swiped a keycard and the doors opened instantly. Inside, the walls were mirrored black glass, reflecting the two of them in sharp, almost cinematic clarity.
Cassie stepped in, hugging her notepad to her chest. The doors slid shut, and the silence thickened.
“You handled yourself well in the meeting this morning,” Adrian said suddenly, his reflection watching her as much as he did.
She glanced at him. “Thanks. I just”
“Spoke when you thought it mattered,” he finished.
Her brows lifted. “Is that…bad?”
His gaze was steady. “That remains to be seen.”
The elevator descended, the hum of its machinery almost too quiet to notice. She couldn’t help wondering if he ever gave a straight answer.
The garage level smelled faintly of steel and engine oil. Parked in the prime spot was a sleek black Aston Martin, its body gleaming under the harsh fluorescent lights.
Adrian opened the passenger door. “Get in.”
She hesitated a fraction too long before sliding into the leather seat. The interior smelled of cedarwood, faint leather polish, and something darker his cologne, understated but impossible to ignore.
As he drove, the city blurred past in a sweep of glass and steel. His hands were steady on the wheel, his posture relaxed but precise, like every movement was calculated for efficiency.
“You visit sites yourself?” she asked after a few minutes, more to break the silence than anything.
“I like to see where my money goes.”
“And your time,” she offered.
“And my name,” he added without looking at her.
She nodded. “Makes sense.”
They drove in silence after that. She noticed the way he checked his mirrors, not just for traffic but like he was taking in his surroundings, cataloging everything. It wasn’t just habit. It was instinct.
The Holloway Project rose ahead like the skeleton of a giant. Scaffolding clung to its steel ribs, and the air was thick with the smell of wet cement and sawdust.
Inside, construction crews moved in a kind of rough rhythm, calling instructions over the roar of machinery.
Adrian led her through it all with the ease of someone who belonged everywhere he went. Cassie trailed behind, careful not to trip over extension cords or drop her pen.
He stopped abruptly in front of a glass panel being hoisted into place. “What’s wrong with this?” he asked without preamble.
Cassie stepped forward, squinting at the frame. “It’s not level,” she said after a moment. “Half a centimeter off, maybe?”
His eyes cut to hers. “You’ve noticed that before.”
Her pulse skipped. “Lucky guess.”
“I don’t believe in luck,” he said simply, turning away.
They continued through the site. Every so often, Adrian would stop and ask her a pointed question not the kind of questions you asked an assistant, but the kind you asked someone with a trained eye.
By the time they reached the car again, dust clung to her blouse and her hair smelled faintly of wood shavings.
“That wasn’t exactly a coffee run,” she said as she buckled in.
“No,” he said. “It was a test.”
She turned to face him.
“Did I pass?”
His mouth curved in something that might have been amusement if you squinted. “You didn’t fail.”
She huffed out a laugh. “High praise.”
For a moment, his eyes stayed on her. “Where did you learn to read structural alignment?”
Cassie’s grip tightened on her notepad. “I told you. Lucky guess.”
Something flickered in his gaze not irritation, but calculation. He didn’t push further.
They drove back in silence, the air in the car charged with unspoken questions. Cassie stared out the window, her mind racing.
He was curious now. She could feel it. And curiosity in a man like Adrian Cole was dangerous.
But there was something else too something she couldn’t name.
Like he’d already decided she was worth watching.
- Writer
