LOGINAndrea had been staring at the same training slide for almost ten minutes.
Something about workplace compliance policies or data structure or maybe cybersecurity. At this point, she honestly had no idea anymore because every time she tried to focus, her mind drifted straight back to the man from the hallway. The arrogant one from the executive floor. She leaned back in her chair and rubbed lightly at her temple before glancing around the analytics department again. Unlike the fiftieth floor, this space actually felt alive. Phones rang occasionally, keyboards clicked nonstop, and conversations floated quietly between desks. People here looked busy, but relaxed enough to breathe. Upstairs had felt like a completely different world. Andrea glanced at her monitor again. Then sighed. “You are not getting distracted by some rude man in a suit on your first day,” she muttered under her breath. “Talking to yourself already? That’s usually week two behavior around here.” Andrea looked up quickly. A man in his mid-forties stood beside her desk wearing a perfectly pressed blue shirt and a company ID clipped neatly against his belt. His posture was stiff enough to make her sit straighter automatically. “Andrea Collins?” he asked. “Yes.” “Robert Harrington. Senior manager of analytics.” His tone was professional, but not warm. The kind of voice that made every sentence sound like part of a performance review. Andrea offered a small smile anyway. “Nice to meet you, sir.” Harrington nodded once, already glancing at the monitor behind her. “HR said you graduated top of your class and have an impressive CV.” Andrea blinked slightly. “Yes, sir.” “Good. That means I won’t need to lower expectations.” His eyes moved back to her. “Analytics moves fast. Mistakes cost money, sometimes clients. Keep up with the workload and we won’t have any issues.” The words weren’t exactly rude but they weren’t welcoming either. “Understood.” “Your first assignment will be sent before lunch.” Without another word, he walked away. Andrea stared after him for a second. Then quietly whispered, “Wow. What a ray of sunshine.” A laugh sounded nearby. Andrea turned and saw a woman wheeling her chair closer with two coffee cups balanced carefully in her hands. “You survived the Harrington introduction,” she said. “That’s impressive.” Andrea smiled despite herself. The woman held out one of the cups. “Coffee peace offering?” “Oh, thank you.” “I’m Rachel.” She pointed toward the middle row of desks. “I sit over there, which unfortunately means I hear Harrington complain about spreadsheets at least four times a day.” Andrea laughed softly for the first time that morning. Rachel leaned against the edge of the desk slightly. “First day?” “Is it that obvious?” “You’ve reread the same slide six times.” Andrea groaned quietly. “Was it that obvious too?” “A little.” She wrapped both hands around the warm coffee cup. “I think my brain stopped functioning after I got lost upstairs earlier.” Rachel’s expression changed immediately. “Wait you mean....upstairs upstairs?” Andrea nodded. “Executive floor.” Rachel let out a low whistle. “That place is terrifying.” “That’s exactly what I thought.” “Trust me, nobody goes up there unless they absolutely have to.” Rachel lowered her voice dramatically. “People here act like the executives can smell fear.” Andrea laughed again, but the memory of the hallway collision slid back into her mind immediately. Especially the man’s face when she called him a statue. A tiny part of her still couldn’t believe she actually said that. Rachel noticed her expression. “What happened up there?” Andrea hesitated. Then shrugged. “I accidentally ran into some arrogant guy who apparently thought the hallway belonged to him.” Rachel snorted. “Sounds like executive management already.” Andrea shook her head. “Seriously, he acted like I committed a felony by existing near him.” “Well,” Rachel said, “if he was on the fiftieth floor, there’s a high chance he actually believes that.” Andrea laughed under her breath and took another sip of coffee. Okay. Maybe this place wouldn’t be completely terrible after all. ******* Two floors above her, Henry Moore ended the conference call with a quiet, “Send me the revised numbers before tomorrow morning.” “Yes, Mr. Moore.” The line disconnected. Henry dropped his phone onto the desk and leaned back slowly in his chair. Normally, work consumed his full attention. It always had. Focus. Discipline. Control. Those three things had built his career long before people started calling him one of the youngest CEOs in Chicago. Distractions wasted time and wasted time led to mistakes. Henry didn’t tolerate either. Which was exactly why the fact that he kept thinking about the woman from the hallway irritated him more than he cared to admit. He stood from his chair and walked toward the glass wall overlooking the city. Chicago stretched endlessly below him beneath a gray winter sky. Cold. Sharp. Controlled. Just the way he liked things. His gaze drifted briefly toward the framed photograph sitting near the edge of his desk. Richard Moore smiled back at him from the picture, standing outside the original Crestview building years before the company became what it was now. Henry’s expression hardened slightly. His father had trusted people too easily and that trust had nearly destroyed everything. Three years ago, while Richard Moore lay recovering in a hospital bed after his heart attack, several executives had started tearing the company apart from the inside. Quietly moving money, manipulating contracts, positioning themselves for control before the old man was even discharged. Henry had uncovered all of it within weeks and removed every single person involved. The board called him ruthless afterward. Too cold. Too young. Too unforgiving. But none of them questioned him or his decisions anymore. Henry looked away from the photograph and returned to his desk. But somehow, instead of reviewing the reports waiting in front of him, he found himself thinking about a woman glaring at him in an elevator hallway. A woman who clearly had no idea who he was. Most people changed the second they saw him–their tone softened, their posture shifted, their honesty disappeared. But Andrea had looked him directly in the eye and called him arrogant without hesitation. Henry exhaled slowly. Annoying. Interesting. Unusual. He pressed the intercom button. “Send James in.” “Yes, sir.” A few minutes later, a knock sounded at the office door. “Come in.” James stepped inside holding a tablet beneath one arm. He looked young, efficient, impossible to fluster. “You needed something, sir?” Henry sat back in his chair. “The new analyst who started today.” James waited. “She was on the executive floor this morning.” Understanding flickered across his face immediately. “You want me to pull the new hire records?” “Yes.” “Do you have a name?” Henry’s jaw tightened slightly. “No...uh....I think she said Andrea.” James paused carefully. “More descriptions?” “Mid-twenties. Dark hair.” Henry glanced briefly toward the window before adding, “Argues too much.” James blinked twice, clearly unsettled with that kind of detail but then wisely chose not to comment. “I’ll find her.” Henry gave a short nod and James left the office. The silence returned immediately afterward. Henry looked down at the unfinished reports on his desk. Then at the city beyond the glass wall, then back at the reports again. Still distracted. That alone should have annoyed him more than it did. Ten minutes later, another knock interrupted the quiet. James stepped back inside carrying a slim file. “I found her.” Henry held out his hand. James passed over the folder. “Andrea Collins. Twenty-four. New hire in analytics. Reports directly to Robert Harrington.” Henry opened the file. A professional employee photo stared back at him, same sharp eyes, same stubborn expression. Even in a corporate headshot, she somehow looked like she was seconds away from arguing with somebody. The corner of Henry’s mouth almost moved. “Desk B47,” James added. Henry’s eyes lingered on the file a second longer before he closed it calmly. “Thank you. That’ll be all.” James nodded once and left the office. Henry remained still after the door shut. Then he looked down at the folder again. Andrea Collins. For some reason, seeing her name written there made the hallway encounter feel strangely more real. Not just a random interruption. Not just another employee trying to get his attention. A problem. Henry leaned back slowly in his chair, tapping the edge of the file once against the desk. Then, after a long moment, he reached for his phone. “Lindsay,” he said the second she answered. “Yes, sir?” “Clear my lunch schedule.” There was a pause. “You have a meeting with the investors from Boston.” “Move it.” Another pause. “Yes, sir.” Henry ended the call and looked once more at the file resting on his desk. Because suddenly, lunch sounded far more interesting on the forty-eighth floor.Henry's hands shook as he tried calling Andrea again.The phone rang and rang. No answer.He called again. And again. Each time it went to voicemail, each time his chest got tighter.He grabbed his keys and ran for the door. Before leaving he went to the drawer in his bedroom and pulled out a gun. Cold metal. Heavy. He had hoped he'd never need it after what happened with Lindsay and Caleb.He shoved it into the waistband of his jeans and covered it with his jacket.Then he was in his car within minutes, tires screeching as he pulled out of the parking garage.He pulled up Andrea's location on his phone's GPS tracker. The one he'd installed on her phone months ago for safety. The signal was coming from an uncompleted building on the east side of the city. An area he didn't recognize.His foot pressed harder on the accelerator.Every second felt like an eternity. Every red light felt like a personal attack. He ran three of them, his eyes fixed on the GPS, his mind racing through every
Andrea fell asleep on Mindy's couch while waiting for her to come back from her date.When Mindy arrived home late that night, she found Andrea curled up on the cushions, her breathing deep and even. Mindy covered her with a blanket and helped her move to the bedroom so she could sleep properly.In the morning Andrea woke up in Mindy's bed with the weight of everything pressing down on her again.She lay there for a while, staring at the ceiling, thinking about going home. Thinking about facing Henry. The thought made her chest tight.Mindy came in with coffee and sat on the edge of the bed."You know, you can't keep running away forever," Mindy said gently. "You need to go home and talk to Henry. Actually talk to him. About everything."Andrea wrapped her hands around the coffee mug. "What if he's angry with me for staying out all night?""He's not angry," Mindy said. "He's worried sick. He kept blowing up my phone and Marcus’s phone the whole of last night. We had to turn off out ph
Across the city, Henry sat on the couch in the dark penthouse and waiting, wondering where she was. Wondering if she was okay.Neither of them knew where the other was. Both of them needed space but both of them were terrified that the space between them might be too wide to cross. He had turned off most of the lights hours ago. Now he just sat there with his phone in his hand, checking it every few minutes like it might tell him something new.Andrea hadn't come home.He had given her space like she asked. He had stayed at home and kept his distance. He had let her be, but now it was past nine o'clock and she still wasn't home, he was starting to feel the first edges of panic.He tried calling her.It went to voicemail.He tried again an hour later.Still voicemail.He typed out a text: Where are you? Are you okay?He stared at it for a long moment before deleting it. She needed space. She said she needed space. He wasn't going to push.But not knowing was eating him alive.He though
Henry came home to an empty penthouse. The silence greeted him before anything else.He stood in the kitchen looking at the space where Andrea had been sitting this morning. He waited, thinking maybe she would come home soon. Maybe she would walk through that door and they could talk.But hours passed and she didn't come home.He didn’t go to work, just tried to work at home. He sat at the dining table with his laptop but he couldn't focus on anything. His mind kept circling back to this morning, to Andrea's face, to her words about needing time. To the weight of everything that had happened.He checked his phone but there were no messages from her. He thought about calling but decided against it. She had asked for space and he was going to respect that. After all he was the one that hadn’t listened to her in the first place. If he hadn’t defended Serena all this time against Andrea, maybe they wouldn’t in this situation.********Meanwhile at Crestview, Andrea finished work and sat a
Serena opened the door and her face lit up when she saw Henry standing there. Then she saw his expression and her smile faltered."Henry. Hi. Come in." She stepped aside.Henry walked past her without any greeting. His jaw was clenched and his eyes were hard in a way she had never seen before.Once inside he didn't waste time on pleasantries."I remember everything from last night," he said. His voice was cold and steady. "The bar. You picking me up and what you said to me in the car."Serena's stomach dropped but she tried to play it casual. "I was just helping you. You were drunk and...""You told me Andrea didn't care about me." Henry's voice cut through her words. "You told me you were the one who loved me.""I was just trying to…""And I remember you trying to kiss me."Serena went very still.Henry stepped closer. "I remember pushing you away. I remember telling you no. I remember saying I wanted Andrea."Serena's face hardened. She didn't deny it anymore, she just looked at him
The morning light was soft through the penthouse windows when Andrea woke up with her hand still holding Henry's. She had fallen asleep on the couch sometime after midnight, refusing to leave him alone, afraid that if she let go he might disappear again.She looked at Henry's face while he slept. The anger from last night had softened slightly but it hadn't gone away. It was still there, sitting heavy in her chest.Henry stirred. His eyes opened slowly and for a moment he looked confused, like he was trying to remember where he was and how he got there. Then his expression shifted as the memories came back in blurs. The bar. The drinking. The darkness of the night.He looked at Andrea and his stomach dropped. She was still here."I'm sorry," he said immediately, his voice rough from sleep and alcohol."Go shower," Andrea said quietly. "We'll talk after."He nodded and went upstairs without arguing.While the water ran in the bathroom Andrea sat in the kitchen with a cup of coffee she
The jazz band switched to a slower, softer melody, and the rooftop felt a little less like a battlefield. Marcus had wandered off with Henry for ten minutes to fix the lighting cue, leaving Andrea and Mindy alone at the high-top table again. Mindy was still grinning, scrolling through her phone lik
Andrea stared at Henry, the question still ringing in the quiet of the penthouse.“Will you be my date for the Summer Mixer tomorrow?"Her heart slammed against her ribs so hard it felt like it might crack. The words wouldn’t come. Her mouth opened, closed, opened again, but nothing came out.Tomor
Andrea and Mindy were sprawled across the huge sectional like they owned the place, fried chicken boxes scattered between them like casualties of war. Two empty beer bottles sat on the coffee table, a third half-gone in Mindy’s hand. They’d spent the last hour laughing so hard their stomachs hurt.
She rode the elevator up to the penthouse alone, thighs still clenched from the conference room. Every step in the lobby had been torture; the black dress that had felt like armor this morning now rubbed against her swollen clit like punishment. She could still feel Henry’s fingers—thick, relentles







