Replacing my ex

Chapter 15

When we pulled into the parking garage at work, I stepped into the elevator in a completely different headspace than when I had left two hours earlier.

I was practically floating. Cue walking on sunshine.

Upstairs, I dropped the food in the kitchenette, and then knocked on Cole’s door.

“Good morning again, sir,” I greeted brightly.

“Thank you so much for-”

“Back to work, Ms. Storm,” he commanded.

“Yes sir. Care for some coffee?” I continued cheerfully.

He grunted in response.

“Coming right up,” I said lightly.

I dashed out to fix his coffee, then returned with the thermal bag of breakfast Mrs. Norris had packed, setting everything up on the coffee table.

Cole glanced over, his eyes narrowing.

“Your listening skills are abysmal.”

“My apologies, sir. I’m not well-versed in the lost art of grunt interpretation, but I promise to do better,” I quipped back, slipping out to grab his black coffee.

“Your coffee, sir,” I announced once I had set it down.

“Come back in an hour,” he instructed.

I retreated to my desk, checked my emails, and finding nothing urgent, decided to track down Will to sort out the company card.

“Good morning, Will,” I chirped as I walked into his station.

“Lila! Good morning,” he beamed.

“Is that Lila I hear?” Bash called out from his office a few seconds before he came to stand in his doorway. “You’re a sight for sore eyes.”

“You’re welcome,” I joked.

They immediately pressed me for an update on the lunch situation from yesterday, and I gleefully filled them in.

“Wow,” Bash breathed, looking at me closely.

Will’s jaw was practically hanging open.

“Which reminds me,” I said. “Will, Mr. Sterling told me to talk to you about getting a company card.”

“Yeah, I’ll come help you with—” Will started.

“Or I can do it,” Bash interjected quickly. “Come with me, Lila.”

He led me into his office, motioning for me to take a seat across from his desk while he made a couple of phone calls.

While we waited for the paperwork to clear, he leaned forward, studying me closely.

“I saw your email with the Oasis meeting minutes. They were brilliant. Cole must have loved them. Now maybe he’ll finally stop taking his own frantic backup notes.”

“Nah,” I said, waving a hand dismissively.“I’m not sure he even saw them. Everyone else replied, but nothing from him. Wait, why does he take his own notes? I noticed that.”

“He likes things done in a very specific way. He says he can’t trust anyone else to do things ‘the right way’,” Bash replied, using exaggerated air quotes and rolling his eyes. “He’d rather keep his own records than completely rely on someone else’s.”

I just nodded, filing away the insight.

Once the card was sorted out, I headed back toward my desk. The hour was almost up.

But when I pushed open the door to our unit, I froze.

Not only had Cole actually eaten the breakfast Mrs. Norris sent, but he was standing in the kitchenette rinsing his own mug.

“Sir,” I gasped, rushing forward to grab the mug out of his hand. “I can do that.”

All Cole had to do to keep it out of my reach was lift it above his head. I bounced on my toes for a few seconds before realizing the utter futility of my efforts and dropping my hands.

“Wait for me at my desk,” he instructed smoothly, continuing to wash the mug without a care in the world.

I walked away reluctantly, casting backward glances over my shoulder.

I sat down at the chair across from his desk.

“We’re going through the development team’s report today,” he declared as he walked in.

We dug into the report, but this time felt different. Instead of just giving me instructions, he actually involved me in the analytical discussion. And sure enough, he wasn't taking those obsessive backup notes anymore.

We fell into a synchronized rhythm, flying through the pages much faster than we had with the initial proposal.

“There’s still nothing in here about the local zoning contingencies,” he noted, frowning at a paragraph.

“I’ll add that to the notes, sir,” I said, my pen scratching rapidly across my tablet screen.

When I glanced up, I caught him staring at me with a curious, unreadable expression.

“Is there a problem, sir?” I asked nervously.

“No,” he answered slowly, looking back down at his copy. “Let’s keep going.”

We pushed ahead until we hit the financial breakdowns near the back. I stared at the numbers, a deep frown forming on my face.

“Do you have something to say?” he asked, picking up on my hesitation.

“Um… I could be wrong, sir, but …” I hesitated.

“We don’t have all day, Ms Storm,” he prompted impatiently

“Apologies sir. It’s just that… I remember different figures in the proposal. These are somewhat higher,” I said nervously.

“Get the proposal,” he ordered.

I pulled it up on my tablet and slid it across the mahogany surface toward him.

“Show me,” he said.

I leaned forward to point at the screen, but the massive desk created an awkward barrier between us.

“Come around the desk,” he directed.

I hesitated.

“I won’t bite,” he added, a wicked little smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.

Would that be so bad though? my brain unhelpfully supplied.

Blushing furiously, I scrambled around the side of the desk.

Get your mind out of the gutter, Lila, I mentally berated myself, shaking off the stray thought.

Standing right beside him, I pointed out the discrepancies section by section. The more we compared them, the clearer it became: there were far too many massive variances for these to be innocent typos. Neither of us said it out loud, but the conclusion hung heavy in the air. This evaluation report was quietly recommending that Legacy release significantly more capital than the project actually required. It was fishy as hell.

Once we finished cross-referencing the financials, I retreated back to my side of the desk.

When the review wrapped up a while later, I stood up.

“I’ll email you the finalized notes shortly, sir,” I said, turning toward the door.

At 2:00 PM, I hit send on the email.

My stomach immediately let out an aggressive rumble, reminding me I hadn't eaten lunch yet.

I knocked twice on Cole’s door and stepped inside.

“What would you like for lunch today, sir?” I asked.

“Nothing,” he replied flatly, his eyes glued to his monitor.

I headed down to the bistro to grab my own meal, but remembering Mrs. Norris’s strict warnings, I also ordered a takeout box for Cole. Rice, vegetables and chicken.

Back upstairs, I silently crept into his office and set the containers up on the coffee table just like I had the day before. He didn't acknowledge me, and I didn't push my luck.

As I backed toward the door, I couldn't resist a tiny parting shot.

“Your lunch, sir.”

I winced slightly, worried I was pushing it too far. When he didn't say a word in response, I quietly let myself out.

I was deep into mapping out a proper scheduling system at my desk when the door swung open.

“Knock knock,” Bash chimed cheerfully, flashing a bright smile.

“Is he in?” He asked, pointing toward Cole’s door.

“Yes. I’ll take you in,” I said, popping up from my chair.

I knocked twice and pushed the door open, ostensibly leading Bash inside, but mostly using him as a covert excuse to check if Cole had eaten his lunch. And to rescue the empty dishes before another humiliating showdown over the sink.

As Bash strode into the room, I marched straight to the coffee table, scooping up the empty plate and disposable packaging, while Bash watched me in amusement.