All Chapters of Working With My Ex Again: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

The forty-ninth document had been the last thing standing between Isla and the door, and now that it was gone she had absolutely no reason to still be sitting at her desk at twenty-three minutes past two in the morning.And yet.She closed her laptop with both hands, slowly, the way you closed something you had been fighting with for hours and had finally, narrowly, won. She gathered her bag. Putting on her coat, she turned off her desk lamp. She still had to come back early in the morning.Couldn't her chipmunk of a boss let go of grudges?? She thought.The elevator took forever. She rode it down alone, watching the numbers drop, and by the time the lobby doors slid open and the night air hit her face she had already decided that tomorrow she was going to be twenty minutes late and there was nothing Darian Blackwell could do about it.The street was empty in the way but what did she expect. She started walking knowing fully well that zero cabs were available.This was his fault. All

She woke up to the stream of sunlight through her thin pink cotton. She opened her eyes then closed them immediately."God damnit" she cursed.She opened her eyes again. Her eyes slowly adjusted to the light.She wondered why her cotton was open. "Elizaaaaa!!!!" She yelled. Always finding ways to announce her presence.Could she actually be ho and no one would be aware. And suddenly she wished she was still doing her night shift.She reached for her phone under the pillow. Nothing.Under the duvet. Nothing. Her night stand. Still nothing.Then the memory of yesterday's event came playing on her head. Calling her boss a chipmunk. The workload afterwards. The food. The drive back and her best friend's vow to kill him.Oh my God. She gasped. I slept on him.After gathering some mental courage, she stood up to try living room where she left her phone. It was right there on the table, sitting patiently waiting for her.The television was on. She thought but couldn't remember turning on th

"Sir, if you could just leave..." A security man who was attempting to perhaps be polite said. "I'm not.." Ryan said unshakenly.The security's face changed slightly, if it was disappointment, Ryan didn't care."If you could just..." He tried again."I've told you who I'm here to see," Ryan said pleasantly, with the tone of a man who was one exchange away from being unpleasant. "Isla Mercer. Forty-third floor. I can wait."Security had formed a loose barrier near the main entrance, and beyond the glass, being held at the middle with the dignified outrage of someone who had not expected this and was not accepting it, was Ryan."Mr. Blackwell has indicated that...""I'm not here to see Mr. Blackwell." He glared wondering why those in power had the urge to always rub on their faces, that they are."Anyone attempting to access the forty-third floor requires prior...""Ryan," Isla said."Thank God" he muttered softly."Common, let's go." She urged but the security stepped forward blocking

For the entire time Isla was in the elevator, her mind wouldn't stop racing.What just happened??She stared at her reflection in the mirrored doors and her reflection stared back at her and they were both in agreement that what had just happened was, there wasn't a word for it. Or maybe there was.I don't like him. She said it to herself clearly, firmly, as it she was trying to convince herself, which she clearly was.He is a controlling, insufferable, raccoon-adjacent man who made me sort forty-nine documents and won't let my best friend into the building and I do not, in any configuration of reality, like him.She touched her mouth then took it away immediately.That, she told herself, was adrenaline. The slap produced adrenaline. The adrenaline produced... The doors opened.Ryan was standing in the lobby, having apparently been let in at some point, and he took one look at her and his eyes went very wide."W

"Yes."Of course there was.He opened the file, flipping through it at an unhurried pace that felt deliberate, almost calculated. Her fingers curled slightly at her side as she stood there, waiting, the seconds stretching just enough to feel intentional."This section," he said finally, tapping lightly on the page. "Explain your projections."Her gaze dropped briefly before returning to him. "They’re outlined in the report.""Explain them."Her jaw tightened."They’re built on projected market elasticity and phased expansion over three quarters...."His eyes were focused on his laptop, when she stopped, he looked up. When Isla got his attention, she continued."...The first assumes a 12% growth rate based on last year’s consumer response patterns, while the second adjusts for seasonal volatility in Q2, which typically impacts procurement cycles.""The third scenario?" He asked."The th