All Chapters of Miss Brown, Keep It Down: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

Katherine Brown wasn’t one to falter under pressure, but this Thursday had clawed its way under her skin. She arrived early, even before most of the team had clocked in. The Los Angeles sun had barely lifted over the skyline, but she was already on the fourteenth floor, sipping too-strong coffee and trying to shake off the weight of Sebastian’s words from the previous evening. “Who called you?” That voice — calm, direct — still echoed in her chest. He hadn’t accused her. Hadn’t pushed. But he had known. Somehow, he always did. Now, as her heels clicked across the polished floor toward her office, she caught sight of Sebastian through the glass walls of the conference room. Already inside. Reviewing something with one of the department leads. Dressed in a crisp white shirt, sleeves rolled. Every inch the man in control. But today, she didn’t greet him. She entered her office, closed the door with unusual quiet, and placed her coffee on the desk like it might shatter if hand

The morning sun slipped in through the half-closed blinds, scattering golden lines across the white sheets. A lazy hum of life stirred outside — distant horns, chirping birds, and the sound of a city waking up. But inside Katherine’s apartment, everything still felt slow, still, and perfect.Sebastian lay half on his side, arm slung over Katherine’s waist, his face buried somewhere near her shoulder. He was warm and surprisingly cuddly for a man whose entire personality screamed ice king in suits.“Mmm,” he murmured, voice rough and low from sleep, “your bed is softer than mine.”“That’s because you probably sleep on corporate guilt,” she mumbled into the pillow.He chuckled. “No, that’s what I use for my throw blanket.”Katherine snorted, eyes still closed. “You’re ridiculous.”“Am I?” he shifted slightly, trailing soft kisses from her shoulder up to her jaw. “You didn’t seem to mind last night when I told that story about the CFO who fainted during his own budget report.”She laughe

6:03 a.m. Sunday. Los Angeles. The city was quiet, humming in the early hush like it was still half-asleep. The sun had barely started stretching over the hills, and most people with any self-respect were still wrapped in duvets and dreams. Katherine Brown was one of them. She was sprawled diagonally across her bed like a human starfish, hair a mess, one leg dangling off the mattress, wearing an ancient T-shirt that said “I paused my game to be here.” Her phone was on silent. Her brain was off-duty. Life was fine. Until — ding-dong. Her brows furrowed in her sleep. Ding-dong. Again. Sharper. Louder. She groaned. Rolled over. Slammed a pillow on her face. DING. DONG. Longer this time. And definitely angry. Katherine sat up like someone just yelled “fire.” She blinked at the clock. 6:03 a.m. “Oh god,” she muttered. “If this is another delivery guy who can’t read ‘Do not ring doorbell before 9,’ I’m suing.” Barefoot and disoriented, she shuffled to the door, hair pointing

Katherine smiled.Again.For the fifteenth time in five minutes.Her cheeks were starting to cramp.Across the table, Elena was describing the vineyard tour they took last spring in Napa, and Liam was nodding with the polite detachment of a man who definitely preferred Scotch over Chardonnay. Sebastian — of course — looked like he’d been born for brunch diplomacy: relaxed, effortless, lips curved in that maddening half-smile that only deepened with every passing minute.Katherine, on the other hand, felt like she was sitting on a damn landmine.Her palms were damp.Her posture stiff.And worst of all… her shoes.Oh God, her shoes.Those pointy nude heels that had seemed like a great idea at 8:00 a.m. were now executing a slow, painful assassination of her toes. Each minute felt like a new level of torture, a private hell encased in patent leather.She shifted under the table. No use.Still felt like death by stiletto.She glanced at Sebastian. Perfect. Unfazed. Unbothered. His shirt p

The car rolled to a gentle stop in front of Katherine’s apartment building — a modern high-rise with reflective glass and just enough subtle luxury to scream stylishly responsible adult.They stepped out into the quiet of early evening. City lights flickered overhead, and the doorman offered a polite nod.But as they entered the lobby, the shift was immediate.Two residents at the mailboxes froze. A girl with a tiny dog nearly dropped her phone. A man by the elevator did a full double take, then pretended to scroll through the news while definitely sneaking a photo.Katherine stopped walking. Her spine went straight.“Sebastian.”He exhaled beside her. “Yeah. I know.”Because now he saw it too.The side-eyes. The quiet whispers. The not-so-subtle glances from screens.While they were busy making out in a dark cinema and nearly ripping each other’s clothes off in a car, the world had moved on.Or rather — noticed.Their brunch photos had clearly made the rounds.And Katherine Brown — b