My heels clicked against the polished floors as I navigated the office, tablet in hand, eyes glued to schedules, emails, and to-do lists. Every corridor hummed with movement — assistants darting between cubicles, executives murmuring numbers that blurred together. It should’ve felt like routine. Instead, the air carried that quiet, charged tension that had become unmistakably his.
I told myself I wasn’t looking for him. But every time someone’s reflection shifted against the glass, my pulse spiked anyway. I caught him in passing — a ghost in a tailored suit — standing inside the glass conference room, sleeves rolled, a study in composure. His eyes found me before I could turn away. One look. That was all it took. My lungs forgot how to cooperate. I ducked behind a row of cubicles, feign
