CHAPTER THIRTEEN
1203 Words
SCARLETT
The day passed in a blur of paperwork and endless scheduling adjustments. I buried myself in work, forcing my mind to focus on the present instead of the past. But no matter how hard I tried, the lingering weight in my chest refused to lift.
By lunchtime, my head was pounding. I rubbed my temples and checked the time—12:45 p.m. My report was ready, neatly compiled and highlighted just as Michael had asked.
I took a deep breath, squared my shoulders, and made my way back to his office.
Knocking twice, I waited for his voice to grant me entry.
“Come in.”
I stepped inside, clutching the folder like a lifeline. Michael was on a call, his expression as unreadable as ever, but his eyes flickered to me the moment I entered. He gestured for me to sit while he finished his conversation.
“Yes, confirm the numbers and get back to me,” he said, his voice firm. “No mistakes this time.”
Whoever was on the other end stammered something before Michael ended the call with a sharp, “Good.”
He set his phone down and turned his full attention to me.
“You’re early,” he remarked.
“I finished the report ahead of schedule,” I said, placing the folder on his desk.
He raised an eyebrow but said nothing as he flipped it open.
Silence stretched between us as he skimmed the pages, his sharp eyes moving quickly. I swallowed, fighting the nervous energy curling in my stomach.
After a few agonizing moments, he closed the folder and nodded.
“Thorough,” he admitted. “You caught two errors I missed.”
A small surge of pride flickered through me. “Thank you, sir.”
He studied me for a beat longer than necessary. “You don’t have to call me ‘sir,’ you know.”
I hesitated. “It’s… professional.”
Michael smirked, but it was faint—almost unreadable. “Suit yourself, Scarlett.”
The way he said my name sent an unexpected shiver down my spine.
I quickly looked away, focusing on my hands. “Is there anything else you need?”
“Yes,” he said smoothly. “Lunch.”
I blinked. “Excuse me?”
“You’re having lunch with me,” he stated as if it were a simple fact.
My brain short-circuited. “I—what?”
Michael leaned back in his chair, his fingers tapping lightly against the desk. “I don’t like repeating myself, Scarlett. You collapsed yesterday. You came back to work without taking a break. You need to eat.”
I opened my mouth, ready to protest, but he cut me off.
“And before you say no, it’s not a request.”
Heat crept up my neck. “That sounds a lot like a request wrapped in a demand.”
Michael’s lips twitched. “You can take it however you like, but you’re still having lunch.”
I let out a slow breath. Arguing was pointless, and truthfully, I was starving.
“Fine,” I muttered.
“Good. Let’s go.”
He stood, grabbing his suit jacket from the back of his chair before heading toward the door. I barely had time to process before he was already holding it open for me.
I stepped out into the hallway, my mind spinning.
What was I doing?
Lunch with my boss? The same man who barely spoke more than necessary?
And yet, as we walked toward the elevator, I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to Michael Sterling than he let on.
Fifteen minutes later, we were seated at an upscale restaurant a few blocks from the office. The moment we walked in, heads turned. It was clear Michael was a familiar face here.
The hostess had barely glanced at the reservation list before leading us to a private booth.
“Order whatever you want,” Michael said, setting the menu in front of me.
I hesitated, scanning the prices. Everything was expensive.
“Scarlett,” he said, voice low. “Eat.”
I exhaled, nodding before settling on a chicken pasta dish.
Michael ordered steak, and the server disappeared, leaving us in an oddly comfortable silence.
I glanced at him, taking in his composed expression. His presence was intimidating, but not in the way Jason’s had been. Jason’s power had been flashy, arrogant. Michael’s was different—calculated, controlled.
“You’re staring,” he noted without looking up.
I flushed. “I was just… thinking.”
“About?”
I hesitated. “You’re not what I expected.”
Michael finally met my gaze. “And what did you expect?”
I swallowed. “Someone colder. More ruthless.”
His lips curved slightly. “I can be both.”
A small laugh escaped me before I could stop it. “That’s not reassuring.”
Michael tilted his head slightly, studying me. “You speak your mind more than I anticipated.”
I shrugged. “I don’t see the point in pretending.”
His eyes darkened slightly, as if he understood something unspoken.
For a moment, silence stretched between us, heavy with things neither of us said.
The server returned with our food, breaking the moment.
As I picked up my fork, I realized something strange.
For the first time in days, the weight in my chest felt just a little lighter.
And that terrified me more than anything.
By the time we returned to the office, I felt slightly more at ease. The lunch had been… unexpected. Not just because Michael had invited me, but because he had actually made me feel human again.
Still, I couldn’t let myself get comfortable.
Michael Sterling was my boss. Nothing more.
Pushing all distractions aside, I threw myself back into work.
The hours ticked by, and soon, the office began to empty.
I stayed behind, double-checking schedules and finalizing reports. The quiet was comforting—until I heard a voice behind me.
“You should go home, Scarlett.”
I jumped slightly, turning to see Michael leaning against the doorway of his office. His tie was loosened, his sleeves rolled up, and for the first time, he looked… tired.
“I just wanted to finish up,” I admitted.
Michael stepped forward, his gaze unreadable. “You’ve done enough for today.”
I bit my lip. “Are you always this concerned about your employees?”
He smirked slightly. “Only the ones who collapse on me.”
Heat crept up my cheeks. “That was one time.”
Michael shook his head, amusement flickering in his eyes. “Go home, Scarlett. You have another long day tomorrow.”
I hesitated before nodding. “Goodnight, Michael.”
His gaze lingered for a moment. “Goodnight, Scarlett.”
I gathered my things, stepping out into the cool night air.
As I walked home, a strange thought settled in my mind.
Michael Sterling was dangerous—not in the way Jason had been, but in a different way entirely.
Because for the first time since my world had shattered, I felt like someone actually saw me.
And that? That was dangerous.
Too dangerous.
- Writer
