Chapter 22
Jaxon
She thinks I don’t notice.
She thinks she blends in. That she can hide when she flusters, or trembles, or turns pink.
But Ruby Quinn is the easiest person in this building for me to read.
She wears everything on that beautiful face.
When she fled down the hallway earlier, breath quick, cheeks warm, eyes wide, she didn’t look scared of me.
She looked scared of herself.
Of wanting something she shouldn’t want.
I follow at a respectful distance, watching her duck into that alcove. It’s not lost on me that she hides there to collect herself.
I wait.
Not long.
She emerges with her shoulders squared but her eyes still soft.
And when she sees me?
Her breath catches.
Her gaze flickers down my tie. Then back to my eyes.
She walks away quickly. Too quickly.
She’s running.
I let her.
For now.
But I’m done pretending this is a mild interest. I’m done letting her think she can distance herself.
I return to my office and close the door behind me.
The glass windows give me a perfect view of the skyline, but my mind is on her.
She’s overwhelmed. So the next move needs to be deliberate. Controlled. A step forward, not a leap.
A conference room creates distance.
My office? Intimacy.
I draft the calendar invite:
Project Development Session — 11:00 AM
Location: Executive Office 53A
Just us.
No ambiguity. No pretense.
I type a note beneath it:
We’ll work more efficiently here.
J
I reread it once. Then send it.
Let’s see how fast she spirals this time.
EVAN
Evan Myers is not supposed to care.
He’s not Ruby’s boyfriend. Not her partner. Barely even her friend.
They had one almost-date last year, one awkward maybe-thing over cocktails that fizzled out before it even sparked.
He told himself it meant nothing.
Then he saw her today.
Walking out of the top-floor conference room. Flushed. Breathless. Eyes too bright.
And then he saw the CEO following her down the hallway like he had a claim.
Evan’s gut twists.
He shouldn’t feel this. He shouldn’t notice.
But he does.
He watches out of the corner of his eye as Ruby rushes past the bullpen, cheeks pink, avoiding everyone.
And then he sees the email go out:
Selected: Ruby Quinn
Assigned to: Mr. Cole
“Oh, hell no,” Evan mutters.
He stands, walks across the room, and spots Ruby practically diving into her cubicle like she’s trying to hide from the world.
“Ruby?” he asks, trying to keep his voice neutral.
She jumps.
“Oh! Evan. Hi. Um. Busy. Very busy. Lots of work.”
He studies her face.
She won’t meet his eyes.
He doesn’t like it.
He doesn’t like how flustered she is. He doesn’t like how close Cole was to her earlier. He doesn’t like the look in Cole’s eyes.
“You okay?” Evan asks slowly.
She nods too quickly. Too fake.
“Yeah! Of course! Totally fine!”
“Right,” he mutters. “Because you look fine.”
She shoots him a glare, but it doesn’t stick.
He softens. “Just… be careful, okay?”
Her brows furrow. “What does that mean?”
Evan hesitates. “Guys like him don’t… choose someone unless they want something.”
Her breath hitches.
Evan watches her closely.
“Ruby… is something going on?”
She opens her mouth, but her computer pings.
She looks down.
Her face drains.
“Ruby?” he presses.
She doesn’t speak.
She just turns the screen so he can see the new message.
His stomach drops.
RUBY
My inbox pings.
I click.
And immediately want to crawl under my desk and live there forever.
From: Jaxon Cole
Subject: Project Development – Session 2
Location: Executive Office 53A
Time: 11:00 AM
Note:
We’ll work more efficiently here.
J
My lungs forget how to function.
My pulse BLOWS UP.
Evan whispers, “Ruby… that’s his personal office.”
I whisper back, “I KNOW.”
“And you’re meeting him there. Alone.”
“YES. I KNOW THAT TOO.”
“Why..."
“Evan I don’t have the bandwidth to emotionally explain this to you right now.”
He blinks, stunned.
I stare at the screen like it’s a bomb about to detonate.
Because it is.
My hands shake.
My heartbeat is a Morse code scream.
“Oh god,” I whisper.
I am NOT ready for that office.
I am NOT ready for a room with a door that closes.
I am NOT ready for him being that close.
I am NOT ready for ANY OF THIS.
Tomorrow at 11:00 AM?
I’m dying.