8. Back In His World

Claire's POV

I barely slept again but the difference was that this time I wasn't staring at an empty side of the bed. Damien had eventually come upstairs sometime after midnight. I knew because I heard him moving quietly through the bedroom while he assumed I was asleep.

Neither of us had spoken and neither of us had attempted to continue the conversation and somehow that felt worse because no matter how many times I replayed yesterday's discussion in my head, I kept arriving at the same conclusion.

Tiffany Morgan was coming to Laurent Group not as a visitor and not as someone passing through but as an employee.

The thought followed me all the way to work.

By the time my car pulled into the underground parking garage I had already spent nearly an hour trying to convince myself I wasn't bothered by it.

Tiffany needed help that was what Damien had said. Tiffany needed a job that was what Damien had said. Nothing was happening between them that was what Damien had said too.

The frustrating thing was that I believed him at least, I believed he believed it. Damien wasn't a liar if he said there was nothing romantic happening between them, then there probably wasn't.

The problem was that emotions rarely cared about logic and they certainly didn't care about contracts or expiration dates or explanations that should have made me feel better.

The elevator doors opened onto the executive floor and I immediately, knew something was different. The atmosphere felt wrong almost electric like a room moments before a storm arrives. People were working, phones were ringing, computers clicked and meetings were beginning yet beneath the normal activity, something else was happening.

Excitement, curiosity and speculation.

I barely made it three steps before Emma appeared and the expression on her face told me everything.

"Oh no."

Emma blinked. "What?"

"Oh no."

Her eyes narrowed. "What do you know?"

The fact that she didn't ask who I was talking about was answer enough I sighed. "Tiffany."

Emma immediately looked offended. "How did you know?"

I stared at her. "Emma."

"What?"

"You look like a woman carrying classified information."

"I do not."

"You absolutely do."

She opened her mouth but closed it and then laughed. "Fine, maybe a little."

"A little?"

"Okay, a lot."

I dropped my purse onto my desk the movement felt strangely deliberate like I was preparing myself for impact. "How bad is it?"

Emma leaned against the reception desk. "Nobody has done any work all morning."

That wasn't encouraging. "Everyone's talking about her?"

"Everyone."

I rubbed my forehead.

Wonderful, absolutely wonderful.

Four years of silence and one day back in New York and she had already become the center of the universe.

Emma lowered her voice. "There are rumors."

"Of course there are."

"People think Damien hired her personally."

I laughed but the sound lacked humor. "He did."

Emma's eyes widened. "What?"

I immediately regretted speaking too late now. "You heard me."

For several seconds, Emma simply stared then she slowly sat down. "Oh."

"That's exactly what I said."

The reality sounded significantly worse when spoken aloud neither of us had a chance to continue when the elevator doors opened and silence spread across the floor not complete silence just enough. Enough that conversations stopped, tthat heads turned and enough that every person on the executive floor instinctively looked toward the elevators.

My stomach tightened I didn't need to turn around because I already knew but still, I did and there she was for a moment, I understood why people talked about Tiffany Morgan not because she was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen, she wasn't because beauty was subjective.

The more dangerous thing was her presence some people entered rooms but Tiffany seemed to take ownership of them. She stepped out of the elevator wearing a cream-colored suit that probably cost more than my first apartment.

Her blonde hair fell in effortless waves around her shoulders her smile was calm, confident and completely at ease nothing about her suggested she was returning after four years away and nothing about her suggested uncertainty.

She looked like someone coming home and the realization made my chest ache because this wasn't her home it was mine or at least, it had been for years, Laurent Group had been my world, my workplace and my second home but now suddenly it felt different and smaller somehow less secure.

Tiffany's eyes moved across the floor as she noticed the staring of course she did yet instead of appearing uncomfortable, she smiled and several employees immediately smiled back.

I nearly laughed the woman had been in the building for less than thirty seconds and she was already winning people over but then her eyes found mine and for a brief moment, neither of us moved.

I had imagined meeting Tiffany hundreds of times over the years in some versions she was cruel and in others she was cold and occasionally she was regretful but reality turned out to be much worse.

She looked delighted as though meeting me was something she had genuinely been looking forward to.

Tiffany crossed the floor toward me and the click of her heels echoed softly against polished marble every step increased the tension gathering in my stomach and when she finally stopped in front of me, her smile widened.

"Claire."

The fact that she knew my name shouldn't have surprised me but it did anyway. "Good morning."

"Good morning." Her voice was warm and pleasant the kind of voice people trusted immediately and I found myself disliking it on principle.

"It's nice to finally meet you," she said.

The words were perfectly polite, unfortunately, something about them felt rehearsed as though she'd practiced them beforehand.

"Likewise." Another lie. The morning was becoming full of them

For a second, Tiffany studied me the way people examine photographs they have already seen many times and then she smiled again. "Damien has spoken very highly of you."

The comment caught me off guard and I wasn't sure whether to feel pleased or suspicious possibly both and before I could respond, another voice interrupted.

"You're here early."

The effect Damien had on a room was immediate heads turned and conversations stopped again.

I looked up as he was walking toward us, his expression was neutral and professional yet something shifted when he reached Tiffany. The kind of familiarity built over years.

I hated that I noticed and I hated it even more because I couldn't stop noticing.

Tiffany smiled. "Traffic was lighter than expected."

Damien nodded then looked at me and for a brief second, our eyes met. Something passed between us amemory of yesterday's conversation and a reminder of promises made.

Nothing is happening between us.

I wanted to believe him. I really did but the problem was that belief became much harder when Tiffany was standing five feet away.

Damien checked his watch. "We should get started."

Tiffany nodded immediately. "Of course."

The ease between them unsettled me not because they were flirting because they weren't but because they already knew how to exist around each other.

There was history there, comfort and shared memories. The things Claire Monroe could never compete with. Damien looked toward the far side of the executive floor and then delivered the sentence that made my stomach drop.

"We've prepared an office for you."

Tiffany followed his gaze and so did I. The office sat less than twenty feet from mine on the executive floor directly outside Damien's suite.

Tiffany's smile widened and in that moment, I realized this wasn't temporary or at least, it didn't feel temporary because every morning from now on, I would see her, every afternoon, I would see her and every single day, the woman who once left Damien at the altar would be sitting just down the hall back in his world and suddenly, I wasn't sure there was room for both of us in it.