Chapter 8

My phone vibrated before I even opened my eyes.

You're late. Get me a black coffee, and if you're not at your desk by nine, your signing bonus gets reviewed for clawback.

My eyes snapped open.

8:30.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me."

Move, Katherine. Move.

I threw on the first clean blouse I could find, yanked my hair into the same tight bun that still ached from yesterday, and bolted out the door with one heel half on. The bus ride felt like a countdown, then after a minute or so my phone buzzed.

I muttered every curse I knew under my breath as I re-read the text on my phone—ones that I’m sure would have made Mrs. Periwinkle faint. The phone buzzed again.

Black coffee. Two sugars. Don’t be late.

I muttered a few more unflattering things about Heath, made an abrupt stop at a café, grabbed his coffee, and dashed back out. High school was the last time I had to do a marathon race, and trust me, if someone had told me I would be doing it again for my ex, I would have laughed until I toppled over.

The bus lurched forward as it passed by another stop. I nearly spilled the coffee, burning my fingers. By the time I sprinted across the plaza and into the elevator, my lungs were on fire. I burst onto the twenty-second floor with exactly two minutes to spare, hair escaping its bun, blouse untucked on one side, wheezing like I’d run a marathon.

Heath’s door was already open. I marched straight in and slammed the coffee down harder than necessary, watching it slosh over the rim.

He looked up from his desk, unfairly fresh in another crisp white shirt, one eyebrow arched.

"Good. You made it." He looked at the clock.

"Another minute and Finance would've received an email."

I smiled sweetly, the kind that showed teeth. “Good morning to you too, my employer. Your coffee, just like you asked.”

“You have a way of making ‘my employer’ sound like you mean horrible and disgusting worm.”

“Hmm… I wonder why.”

“Some might call that attitude, insubordination.”

“Some might call threatening to claw back my bonus before I’ve even sat down ‘emotional a**se’.”

"No." He took a slow sip of the coffee I'd nearly broken my neck to bring him.

"It's motivation."

I stared at him. "You're unbelievable."

"Yet here you are. Contractually obligated." The corner of his mouth twitched. "An important distinction. You're in a mood. Did you stay up late?"

“Last I checked, what I do at home doesn’t concern you.”

“Last I checked, if you were doing something incriminating late at night and it ended up tied to this company… it concerns me.”

“I was up plotting how to survive working for you,” I shot back, turning to leave the room. Forget what she had once felt. I would never fall for this slave-driving, annoying, bossy man.

He leaned back, I could feel his eyes burning holes into my neck as I approached the door. “And yet here you are. Efficient as ever. It’s almost impressive.”

Almost? I came in here huffing and panting for breath and all he's got is almost?

“Almost?” I tuned facing him tilting my head.

He chuckled low, the sound doing something unfair to my pulse. “Almost. But I prefer results over excuses. Speaking of which, get me the GB13 file. Now.”

I spun on my heel before he could see the flush climbing my neck and marched out.

The old cabinet held nothing. No GB13. I shoved drawers harder than necessary, then stormed back into his office.

"That file doesn't exist," I crossed my arms. "And while we're on the subject, I know you were born in '63 or '49, but hello?… we are in the 21st century. Why on earth are you still filing papers? Think about it. It would be more efficient for you— and a lot less painful for me."

I slapped my hands over my mouth, I had said that out loud. Oh Jeez!

If I continued like this, I would lose this job for sure.

He didn’t even look up from his screen, which I was grateful for. “Did you check the new cabinet?”

New cabinet? I hadn’t sat down properly since arriving, still half-disoriented from the sprint. “There wasn’t a new—” I bit the words off and went to look.

Sure enough, a sleek white cabinet now stood where yesterday there had only been empty space. I yanked it open and found GB13 immediately.

It wasn’t my fault. It was his. Everything about this place is designed to throw me off balance — first being half-asleep and then running the stretch of a country at 9 A.M.

Sure. Blame him. 'Cuz it's definitely not because you spent half the night replaying him touching your face.

Shut up.

The voice laughed.

Thought so.

I hated having an inner voice sometimes— they never really know when to butt in.

I was still rifling through the drawer when the elevator dinged. A pompous-looking man in an expensive suit, and a gold signet ring on his right hand—some grotesque, snarling monkey or gargoyle engraved on it, with flashing diamond eyes. Seconds later, a seven-foot bald giant in a black suit followed and positioned himself like a statue by Heath’s door.

The meeting dragged on, and soon I was counting four hours. Voices rose behind the tinted glass. Heath’s voice controlled, the other man’s sharper, angrier. I found the file but stayed put, my curiosity burning hotter and hotter with each passing minute. I decided to find out myself.

I grabbed the file as an excuse and approached the door. The bodyguard shifted, blocking me entirely.

“Excuse me. This is my office. Move.”

“Boss doesn’t want disturbances.”

I glanced down and caught the glint of a gun at his waist. My stomach tightened. A gun. An actual gun. I almost ran out of there but I held his stare. If Heath was hiding something, I was going to find out. “Move.”

His eyes flickered, but he didn’t move. The staring contest went on until fifteen minutes later, the short man stepped out.

He looked deflated and smaller than when he’d arrived. A quiet satisfaction settled in my chest. I’d always hated proud men who thought the world owed them deference.

The bodyguard followed shortly after.

It was past one o’clock when they left, and I had had enough time to catch her breath. I pushed into Heath’s office and dropped the file on his desk.

“What was that about?”

“Business,” he said simply, taking the file.

I waited for him to say more. He didn’t.

“Not women’s business, I suppose?” The words slipped out sharper than intended.

He looked up, catching the edge in my voice. “It’s not. And before you bite my head off, that’s to keep you safe, Katherine. Some things you don’t need in your head.”

My jaw tightened. Safe. Once, I would have trusted him without question. Hearing him say that before would have made me feel… protected. Now it only made me angry. It only made me think, if this was one thing he would flip over me like he did before.

"Because I'm just the little assistant who fetches coffee and can't handle reality."

"That's not what I—"

"Then what is it?" I cut in. "You keep deciding what I should and shouldn't know."

"You don't need to know."

My laugh came out sharper than I intended. "You don't get to decide that."

Silence settled between us.

His jaw tightened, his fingers stilling on the file.

Then he met my eyes.

"Actually," he said quietly, "I do."

The room went cold. For a minute, neither of us moved.

There it was again—that same infuriating certainty. The same man who thought he knew what was best for me, whether I agreed or not. I looked away first.

"Anything else you need?" I asked, my voice clipped.

He held my gaze for another second before exhaling.

"No. That's all."

I spent the rest of the afternoon in ice silence, focusing only on the tasks he left on my desk. He left early, setting down another stack of reports. For a second he looked like he might say something real. Instead he just nodded once and walked out.

Throughout the walk home, the gun, the bodyguard, the man played on loop in my head. I’d hoped he’d changed. Part of me had even started to believe it. But now? I didn’t know what to think.

What annoyed me most was the smaller voice still defending him. Thinking of options I wasn’t seeing yet. I turned the corner outside my house, and there I saw Mrs. Periwinkle waving me down, with a man latched on her arm.

Oh no.