Monday Morning
274 Words
The weekend had passed in a blur of late-night messages, quiet phone calls, and the dizzying realization that the man who had driven Alora crazy at work for months was the exact same soul who had listened to her heart in the dark.
Monday morning arrived with a sharp, crisp efficiency. Alora stepped through the glass doors of Vance Enterprises precisely at 8:00 AM, her heels clicking against the marble floor. Her stomach fluttered with a nervous, electric anticipation. Everything looked the same—the sleek gray cubicles, the hum of the printers, the endless flow of hurried employees—yet everything felt entirely different.
As she settled into her desk and booted up her computer, her gaze involuntarily drifted toward the corner office. The heavy mahogany door was closed, opaque blinds partially drawn.
She opened her email inbox, pulling up the pending quarterly risk assessments. A moment later, her desk phone chimed softly.
Alora picked up the receiver, her heart skipping a beat. "Extension 402."
"Alora," Hayden's deep, smooth voice came through the line, stripped of its usual clinical distance and carrying a low, deliberate warmth that only she recognized. "Bring the secondary risk projections into my office. Now."
"Right away, Mr. Vance," she replied, keeping her voice professionally level for anyone listening nearby.
She gathered the folders, took a steadying breath, and walked down the familiar hallway. When she stepped into his office, Hayden was standing by the floor-to-ceiling windows, city traffic moving far below. He turned around as the door clicked shut behind her, his dark eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that made the rest of the world vanish.
- Writer
