Chapter 3
POV: AMBER
Before I can say anything else, a knock lands on the open door.
Mr. Sterling appears in the hallway, already halfway past my office like a man moving through three conversations at once.
“Amber,” he says, pointing toward the conference rooms. “We’re starting the briefing.”
My stomach tightens.
He glances between me and Alexander, clearly satisfied to see us already together.
“Conference room three,” he adds. “Five minutes.”
“Of course,” I reply automatically.
He disappears down the hallway just as quickly as he appeared.
The silence he leaves behind feels heavier than before.
Alexander pushes away from the wall.
“I’ll head in,” he says.
I nod, grateful for the moment of distance.
He walks past me toward the door.
The woody, expensive scent of his cologne brushes the air again as he passes.
God.
The door closes behind him.
I stay where I am for another few seconds, pressing my palms lightly against the edge of my desk.
Just breathe.
In.
Out.
Tomorrow we go home.
I square my shoulders, grab my tablet, and head for the conference room.
When I step into the conference room a few minutes later, Alexander is already there.
He’s standing near the windows, phone pressed to his ear.
And he’s… different.
Not the quiet, teasing man who stood in my office minutes ago.
This version of him is sharp. Focused. Commanding.
“Push the launch timeline forward,” he says into the phone, voice calm but firm. “No, I don’t care what the original plan was. If the footage isn’t ready, you shoot again.”
A pause.
His posture is perfectly straight, shoulders squared like a man used to being obeyed.
“I want the final concept on my desk tonight. Not tomorrow. Tonight.”
Another pause.
Then his voice lowers slightly.
“Good. I knew you’d understand.”
He ends the call and slips the phone into his pocket.
For a moment he simply stands there, looking out over the city.
Then he turns.
And his eyes land on me.
Something unreadable flickers there.
My stomach tightens.
Focus, Amber.
This is work.
Mr. Sterling enters a moment later with Ethan trailing behind him.
Ethan is one of the administrative managers from corporate—mid-thirties, efficient, permanently glued to a tablet.
“Perfect,” Mr. Sterling says, clapping his hands together. “Let’s finalize everything.”
We all take our seats.
This meeting feels different.
Less explosive.
Less suffocating.
Maybe because the shock has already passed.
Or maybe because my brain has finally stopped screaming.
Mr. Sterling launches into logistics a few minutes later.
“Flights are booked for tomorrow morning,” he says. “The three of you will head out early.”
He gestures toward me, Alexander, and Ethan.
“I’m staying here to deal with the investors,” he continues. “But you’ll have full authority on-site.”
Ethan nods and pulls up the travel schedule.
“Hotel arrangements are confirmed,” he says. “And the site inspection with the city council is set for Thursday.”
I lean forward slightly.
“The marina permits will be reviewed again once we arrive,” I explain. “But legally we’re already in a strong position.”
Mr. Sterling nods, satisfied.
“And the marketing timeline?”
Alexander answers smoothly.
“We’ll begin shooting preliminary footage immediately. The coastline alone is worth half the campaign.”
My chest tightens at the word coastline.
Because suddenly I can see it.
Our hometown.
The endless stretch of blue water.
The salty air.
The beach where we spent half our teenage years.
Without meaning to, my gaze drifts toward him.
He’s leaning back slightly in his chair, fingers loosely laced together on the table.
Relaxed.
Confident.
Infuriatingly handsome.
God.
There was a time when being with him felt like breathing.
Like the world made sense as long as we were together.
My brain drifts further than it should.
I remember late afternoons on the beach.
His surfboard abandoned in the sand.
The way he used to grin at me like I was the best thing that had ever happened to him.
And before I can stop myself—
“Xander, the harbor permit—”
The word leaves my mouth like muscle memory.
The room goes silent.
Oh.
My.
God.
Heat floods my face so fast it’s almost painful.
I freeze.
Then immediately clear my throat.
“I mean—Alexander.”
I force my eyes down to my notes.
Professional.
Calm.
Controlled.
If I pretend this didn’t just happen, maybe everyone else will too.
Mr. Sterling doesn’t react.
Ethan is too busy typing something into his tablet to notice.
But Alexander notices.
Of course he does.
I can feel his gaze on me.
Heavy.
Intent.
The rest of the meeting continues, but my brain is half on autopilot.
Somehow we finalize the last details.
Construction timeline.
Media launch strategy.
Site inspection schedule.
Finally Mr. Sterling closes his laptop with a satisfied nod.
“All right,” he says. “I think we’re ready.”
Everyone begins gathering their things.
Then he pauses at the door and turns back toward us.
“One more thing.”
We all look up.
“Since the three of you are flying out tomorrow, dinner’s on me tonight.”
Ethan brightens immediately.
Mr. Sterling grins.
“Seven o’clock. Harbor House.”
He points a finger toward Alexander.
“You can tell me more about those marketing ideas.”
Then he looks at me.
“And Amber, I want to go over a few investor questions before you leave.”
I nod.
“Of course.”
“Good,” he says, already heading out. “Let’s celebrate the beginning of something big.”
The door closes behind him.
And suddenly the room feels much quieter again.
Ethan gathers his files while Mr. Sterling heads toward the door already talking about dinner plans.
Alexander lingers.
Of course he does.
I pretend to organize my notes while people file out.
A minute later the room is empty again.
Except for us.
I exhale slowly.
Then look up.
He’s still standing by the table, watching me with that same unreadable expression.
“I’m sorry,” I say before he can speak.
One eyebrow lifts.
“For what?”
“You know what.”
I close my folder, avoiding his eyes.
“Calling you that.”
The name hangs between us.
Xander.
His gaze softens slightly.
“I liked it.”
My head snaps up.
“What?”
“I liked it,” he repeats calmly.
“That’s not appropriate,” I say quickly.
He shrugs lightly.
“Maybe not.”
The corner of his mouth lifts just slightly.
“But it’s still my name.”
My heart thumps harder than it should.
“We’re not seventeen anymore,” I mutter.
“No,” he agrees quietly.
His eyes stay locked on mine.
“We’re not.”
The air between us grows thicker.
Charged.
Dangerous.
And suddenly I’m very aware of how close he’s standing.
The scent of his cologne drifts toward me again—dark wood and something warm underneath it.
My stomach flips traitorously.
This is exactly what I was afraid of.
Then the door opens.
“Amber?”
Ethan steps inside holding a stack of papers.
Relief crashes through me so fast it almost makes me dizzy.
“Yes?”
“Sorry to interrupt,” he says, already walking toward the table. “Mr. Sterling needs your signatures on a few authorization forms before the end of the day.”
“Of course.”
I reach for the papers quickly, grateful for the distraction.
Ethan sets them down and starts pointing to the signature lines.
Alexander watches silently.
I can feel his eyes on me the entire time.
When I finish signing the last page, Ethan gathers everything again.
“Perfect,” he says. “Thanks, Amber.”
Then he nods politely toward Alexander and leaves.
The door closes behind him.
Silence settles again.
I don’t look up this time.
“See you later,” Alexander says after a moment.
His voice is quieter now.
Almost thoughtful.
“Later” I echo.
The door shuts behind him.
And suddenly the reality hits me again.
Tomorrow we’re going home.