Chapter 46: Sorry Not Sorry

“And I assume ‘celebrating’ includes food before… other activities?” he asked with a hopeful grin. “Because I am suddenly starving for more than just kissing you against my office door.”

“We can get a light course, maybe some desert and then we can move on to more strenuous activities,” Harper said seductively. Oliver’s pupils dilated at her seductive suggestion, the professional facade he maintained so carefully crumbling completely. A low groan escaped his throat as he leaned into her touch, his control slipping rapidly. “Strenuous activities,” he repeated huskily, the words dripping with promise. “I like the sound of that. Very much.” His free hand dropped to grip her thigh firmly through the fabric of her red leather skirt, thumb brushing dangerously close to the hem. The fifteen-minute warning felt like an eternity away now that dinner plans included dessert courses followed by private time at her apartment. “You are going to be the death of me,” he muttered against her palm still cupping his cheek. “First day of being an official couple and you are already planning how to kill me with pleasure.”

“I just hope you can handle me,” Harper said with a playful smile. A low, dangerous laugh rumbled in Oliver’s chest, his icy blue eyes darkening with challenge and anticipation. The playful threat in her voice ignited something primal within him, erasing any remaining trace of the reserved CEO he was supposed to be. “Handle you?” he repeated, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Sweetheart, I have been running this entire company single-handedly for five years. I think I can manage one stubborn secretary with a smart mouth.” His grip on her thigh tightened possessively, fingers digging into the soft flesh just enough to leave marks later. The scent of her perfume mixed with the faint smell of coffee from his morning meeting created an intoxicating combination that was making it difficult to focus on anything besides her. “I am not worried about handling you,” Oliver continued, leaning closer until his lips nearly touched hers again.

“Good,” Harper said, and she leaned forward to kiss him lightly. “Get ready for your meeting, I will bring you a cup of coffee,” she said more professionally. Oliver’s blue eyes widened slightly at the sudden shift back to professional secretary mode; a flicker of surprise mixed with amusement crossing his features. The light kiss felt like a final seal on their new arrangement– personal and professional coexisting in the same space. “Coffee would be appreciated,” he said, his voice regaining its usual CEO tone even as his hand lingered on her thig for a moment longer than necessary. He straightened up, running a hand through his messy black hair in an attempt to appear presentable for the upcoming financial review. The evidence of their kissing– flushed cheeks and slightly swollen lips– was harder to hide than he would like. “Meeting starts in five minutes,” he reminded himself as much as Harper, already moving toward his desk to gather the necessary files. “And for the record, this is officially the most distracted I have ever been before a meeting.”

“Sorry not sorry,” Harper said teasingly and unlocked Oliver’s office door. She goes over to her desk and quickly glances at her emails. Oliver watches her unlock his office door with a mixture of exasperation and admiration, the playful apology hanging in the air between them. By the time he gathered his financial reports and settled behind his desk, Harper was seated at her own desk across his office door, tapping away at her keyboard with practiced efficiency. Through his open office door, he could see her focused expression as she scrolled through emails. The sight of her multitasking– handling company correspondence while undoubtedly arranging their evening plans– sent another wave of possessive pride through him. During the financial review meeting, Oliver found himself periodically glancing toward Harper.

Mr. Knox’s subordinate was the first to stop by. A short man, called Evan Glace. Evan casually walked into his office, wearing a dark suit with a white dress shirt, open at the collar without a tie. He has short, neatly styled dark hair and a trimmed beard. His hands are casually places in his pockets. He looked at Oliver with a slight smile. “Mr. Williams, good so see you. How are you, sir?” Evan asks, removing his hand from his pocket and holding it out to shake Oliver’s hand. Oliver’s hand paused mid-air over the financial reports on his desk as Evan entered his office with that familiar casual confidence. The younger man’s relaxed posture and easy smile were a stark contrast the tense energy Oliver had been holding onto since his kiss with Harper. “Evan,” he greeted, his voice maintaining its professional tone despite the internal chaos. He stood to shake Evan’s hand firmly, noting the way the subordinate’s grip was just a bit too confident for his liking. “I am doing well. Yourself?” Evan said politely. Oliver’s blue eyes flicked involuntarily toward Harper’s desk across his office door before returning to Evan. The subordinate’s presence was a reminder of the professional boundaries he needed to maintain– boundaries that felt increasingly fragile after their earlier celebration. “Take a seat,” Oliver indicated toward the chair across from his mahogany desk. “We have a lot to cover today.”

Evan takes a seat in the chair across from Oliver. After ten minutes, Harper enters Oliver’s office with two cups. She places a black cup of coffee in front of Oliver and a cup of what appears to be herbal tea in front of Evan. “Herbal tea, two sugars, right?” Harper asks with a friendly tone. Evan nodded and casually said, “Thank you.” Oliver’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly as Harper delivered the hot beverages, his gaze fixed on her movements with an intensity that bordered on possessive. The casual familiarity between her and Evan– the way she remembered his tea preference without needing to ask– sent a flicker of something sharp through his icy blue eyes. “Thank you, Harper,” Oliver said, his voice clipped and formal. He accepted the black coffee with a curt nod, his fingers wrapping around the mug possessively. “Evan, I trust you have reviewed the preliminary numbers I sent over this morning?” Oliver asked and took a deliberate sip of his coffee, his blue eyes never leaving Evan’s face as the subordinate settled back into his chair. The office suddenly felt smaller, the air thick with unspoken tension that had nothing to do with financial projections. Evan took a sip of his herbal tea, his expression relaxed.