Chapter 15
Istare at my reflection in the elevator doors as we rise to the fifteenth floor, my pulse thudding in my throat. I’ve worn this blazer before—safe, navy, clean lines—but somehow it feels different today. Like it belongs to someone steadier. Someone starting over.
Knox’s company lobby opens up before me with quiet opulence—polished floors, gold accents, a massive window spilling morning light over the city. It smells faintly of citrus and cedar, expensive but not pretentious. The air here feels intentional. Controlled.
Like him.
I’m early. Too early. I try not to fidget as the receptionist calls up, letting him know I’m here. My stomach does a ridiculous flip when she says his name.
“Mr. Hale will be right out.”
I force a steady breath, but it doesn’t help. The second he steps through the frosted glass doors, his presence pushes the world back a little.
He’s in a dark suit that fits him indecently well, his tie a deep, sharp slate. His jaw is clean-shaven today, making him look sharper. Younger. More dangerous.
His eyes land on me, and I swear the ground tilts. One breath. Two. Then that small, deliberate smile curves his mouth.
“Lana.”
Just my name and warmth spreads through me.
“Ready for your first day?” he asks.
“Ready as I’ll ever be.” I hope my voice sounds steadier than I feel.
“Good.” His hand touches the small of my back. Barely. A gesture that shouldn’t affect me as much as it does. “Let’s get started.”
By midday, I’ve forgotten to be nervous.The team is competent, the project complex but exciting, and Knox… God. He watches me like he’s cataloging every move I make. And yet he gives me space to lead, to observe, to settle in.
During a meeting, someone talks over me, one of the senior consultants. Uncertainty makes me shrink back.
But Knox’s voice slices through. “Let her finish, Dan.”
Everything stops.
I stare at him. He doesn’t look at me, doesn’t give me some dramatic nod of encouragement. He simply waits, expecting me to continue. Respect. Quiet. Undeniable.
And all at once, something inside me straightens. I speak. And Knox listens.
Really listens.
Hours later, when the office starts to thin out, I’m still settling into my new workspace, organizing files, learning the layout. I don’t realize how late it’s gotten until the lights start dimming into evening mode.
Footsteps approach. “You’re still here,” Knox says softly from the doorway of my office.
“I didn’t notice the time.”
“I noticed.” His voice dips lower. “You work hard.”
“So do you.”
The right side of his mouth curves. “I’ll walk you out.”
I start to refuse. I’m not helpless, but something in his quiet insistence makes me nod instead.
Outside, the air is cool, the sky streaked with burnt orange and violet. Knox rests his hand lightly at my lower back again as he walks with me to the curb.
“You did well today,” he says.
“Thank you.”
“I meant it.”
I look up at him, and the air changes. Something softens. Something sharpens. We stand there in a bubble of city noise, cars rushing past, lights flickering on. But I only feel him.
His eyes lower just briefly to my mouth. My pulse stutters. Then he steps back, gentle but firm. “Get some rest, Lana.”
He walks away before I can respond, leaving me breathless in the amber glow of the streetlight.
And I know this is something I’m not sure I am ready for.
But it’s something I want anyway.