"Don't get too comfortable "

CHAPTER 4

I expected the day after Ivy’s visit to be… weird.

It was worse.

Tension sat in the air like the building had swallowed a storm and didn’t know how to let it out.

Mr. Reign wasn’t speaking much.

Not to me.

Not to anyone.

He moved around his office with sharp, controlled steps, as if one wrong breath would crack something inside him.

And me?

I kept dropping things.

First, the tablet.

Then my pen.

Then my dignity when I tripped over absolutely nothing.

“Are you alright?” he asked at one point.

“I’m fine,” I said as I tried to hide the fact that I’d spilt water on my own shoe.

He watched me. Not judging. Just… watching.

“Take a moment,” he said.

“I’m good. Totally stable,” I lied, almost slipping again.

His lips twitched like he wanted to smile but refused to.

The silence stretched.

Finally, he cleared his throat. “I apologize for yesterday.”

I blinked. “For what part? Ivy insulting me or me insulting her back?”

“You didn’t insult her.”

“I kind of did.”

“You told her the truth.”

“Oh.”

He turned toward the window, hands in his pockets. “She tries to get a reaction. It’s a habit she never lost.”

I wasn’t sure what to say to that.

So I didn’t say anything.

He continued, voice lower. “She was part of my life for years. Ending things wasn’t… easy.”

“I get that,” I said softly.

He looked over his shoulder. “But her presence isn’t your responsibility. Don’t let her intimidate you.”

“Too late.”

A small breath escaped him. Quiet.

Almost like a laugh.

Almost.

But then he turned serious again. “You did well, Maya.”

I froze a little.

Praise from him wasn’t normal.

It felt strange. Warm. Heavy.

“Thanks,” I mumbled. “I was trying not to faint.”

“You didn’t.”

I shrugged. “On the outside.”

He actually smiled. A real one. Soft.

Quick. But real.

Right then, the elevator dinged.

A young guy in a grey suit stepped out.

He looked nervous, like a kid walking into a test he hadn’t studied for.

“Mr. Reign?” he said, adjusting his glasses. “I’m here for the twelve o’clock update.”

Mr. Reign nodded. “Maya. Come with me.”

“Oh. I–okay.”

I grabbed the tablet and followed them into the conference room.

It was bigger than some apartments I’d lived in.

Everything smelled like new furniture and expensive decisions.

The guy introduced himself. “Logan. I’m from the analytics department.”

“Hi, Logan,” I said, trying to sound like a person who belonged in a corporate meeting and not like someone who once Googled how to file papers correctly.

He smiled nervously. “You’re the new assistant.”

“Still learning how not to break things,” I said.

He laughed, but when he glanced at Mr. Reign, he quickly stopped laughing.

The meeting started.

Charts. Numbers. Graphs. Growth projections that made my head hurt.

I tried to follow along, but corporate language wasn’t my native tongue.

At one point, Logan said something about declining engagement metrics.

“What caused it?” Mr. Reign asked.

Logan stuttered. “We’re, uh, checking. It might be–maybe–market shift?”

“That’s not an answer,” Mr. Reign said.

His voice wasn’t loud. But it was sharp enough to slice straight through the room.

Logan turned pale.

And something in me snapped.

“Hey,” I said without thinking, “he’s trying.”

Both men looked at me.

Logan in shock.

Mr. Reign in something else entirely.

I swallowed. It's too late to take it back now.

“I mean–maybe don’t grill him. Not everyone works well under pressure.”

Mr. Reign held my gaze. His eyes were unreadable again.

A flicker of heat. Or irritation. Or something I couldn’t place.

Then he said, “Logan. Step outside for a moment.”

Logan practically ran.

When the door closed, I turned to Mr. Reign. “I didn’t mean to overstep. I just–he looked one second away from passing out.”

He didn’t answer immediately.

He walked closer. Slow. Controlled.

“You think I was too harsh,” he said.

“I think you were… sharp.”

“Sharp isn’t harsh.”

“It is when the person across from you looks like he might cry.”

A long pause.

He lowered his voice. “I wasn’t angry at him.”

“Then who?”

Silence.

He looked away.

Out the window.

In the clouds.

Anywhere except at me.

When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter than I’d ever heard.

“My father used to handle mistakes with shouting. I learned to handle them with precision.”

I exhaled.

I didn’t expect that.

Not from him.

“That sounds hard,” I said.

“It wasn’t pleasant.”

He didn’t say more.

But he didn’t need to.

Something inside me softened.

Not in a romantic way.

In a human way.

“Maybe try softer sometimes,” I said gently. “People open up more.”

He looked at me again. “And do you open up… when someone is soft with you?”

My breath caught.

“I–uh–depends,” I stammered. “It usually helps.”

His eyes stayed on mine a little too long.

not tense.

Not cold.

Just… noticing.

Then he straightened. “Noted.”

Before I could say anything else, Logan returned.

This time, Mr. Reign spoke calmly. Still firm. But calmer.

The difference was small.

But real.

After the meeting, Logan thanked me quietly.

And when we returned to the office, Mr. Reign said, “Don’t get comfortable doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“Interfering.”

“I thought I was helping.”

“You were.”

He paused.

“But people don’t speak to me like that.”

“Maybe they should.”

“Maya,” he said, rubbing his brow, “you are… unpredictable.”

“That’s a polite way of saying annoying.”

“No.”

His gaze softened.

“It’s a way of saying you see things others don’t.”

My heart did that annoying flip thing again.

I looked down at my tablet. “Well. Someone has to look out for the nervous guy.”

He nodded slowly. “And who looks out for you?”

I didn’t answer.

I didn’t know how.

His expression shifted again. Softer.

Almost warm.

But he blinked, looked away, and the moment disappeared.

Back to work.

Back to distance.

Back to pretending nothing strange was happening.

But it was.

Something was changing between us.

Quietly.

Slowly.

Dangerously.

And I had no idea where it would lead.