Chapter 89

The way he had looked at me–calm, unreadable, then cold–like I’d overstepped just by standing there. When he mocked me for being concerned about “gossip,” I knew it wasn’t just teasing. He was reminding me of where I stood. Of who he was. Of who I wasn’t.

I’d heard that tone before. It was the same one I’d heard from strangers at the golf club that day–right before the headlines called me a gold–digger, before whispers claimed I wore that dress just to seduce my boss. I thought I’d survived that storm. But maybe I hadn’t. Maybe I’d just dressed the wounds prettier.

The difference was, this time the voice was his.

I had no words to offer him that wouldn’t sound desperate. So

I’d laughed awkwardly, pathetically–and muttered that I’d

overthought it. Then I excused myself like the fool who walked

into the wrong room and thought she belonged.

When I passed Mike in the hallway, he looked up from his

tablet and tried to smile. “Don’t take it personally. He’s… not

great at expressing himself”

I managed a stiff smile, clutching my bag tighter. “It’s fine. I just

remembered I left something on the stove.”

He tilted his head. “You don’t cook”


I laughed once under my breath and shrugged. “Just

sometimes.”

I didn’t wait for a reply. I just left.

The elevator ride down was quiet. Still. And when I stepped out

into the open air, I wasn’t angry. I wasn’t even sad. I was just… embarrassed.

and sat

that I had feelings for Alexander.

kind of man people respected from

you

along the way–between him

between the way he stood in front of the

started to feel

could trust him, Like he might see me


or a temporary assistant trying to find

footing.

guess that

confused gratitude for something

that didn’t

I wasn’t allowed to touch. And I–no matter how steady I looked–was still someone pulling herself together,

Peoplewouldgossip if they saw us

was how quickly he

possibility of it was

into the couch,

illusions. No more

supposed to

distance from Alexander.


The Next Day

halfway through picking at my

I didn’t really

rang.

Mike.

seeing his name made my stomach clench. I

and picked

polite. “Are you busy

evening?”

barely touched plate in

particularly. Why?”

a pause, long enough for me to sense that this wasn’t just a friendly check–in. With Mike,

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