By the time I reached the office, my reflection knew how to lie again. The glass doors slid open with their usual hiss, and Legendary swallowed me whole — polished concrete, glass walls, the smell of espresso and ambition.
The morning light slanted across the floor in clean lines, cutting the space into neat, manageable pieces. I wished my life felt that organized. He was there before I even got to my own office. Standing by the window like he owned the view — jacket off, shirt sleeves rolled, my color-coded reports spread across the glass table — was Ahmir. His presence was dense and familiar, like gravity had chosen a favorite.
“Morning, boss,” he said, turning with that half-smirk that always made my pulse misbehave. “You didn’t answer my text.”
“Kids missed the bus. Traffic. Real l
