Chapter 2 After Hours
Chapter Two: After Hours
The office was quiet. Too quiet.
Everyone had gone home hours ago, but I was still sitting at my desk, pretending to work while my heart kept threatening to burst out of my chest.
Mr. Cole’s message burned in my mind.
You’ll stay late tonight. We have… unfinished business.
Unfinished business.
What did that even mean?
I looked at the clock. 8:47 p.m.
Every creak, every sound of the air conditioner made me jump. I wasn’t sure if I was scared, anxious, or just… curious. Maybe all three.
My laptop screen glowed in front of me, a report I hadn’t typed a single word on. I’d read the same line fifteen times and still couldn’t remember a thing.
Then I heard it.
Footsteps.
Slow, steady, deliberate.
I didn’t need to look up to know who it was.
“Still here, Miss James Lila?”
That voice. Smooth and deep, with the kind of calm that made you nervous.
I turned in my chair. He was standing there Mr. Adrian Cole in his black shirt and grey suit pants, no tie this time. His jacket hung over one arm. The top buttons of his shirt were undone, revealing just enough to make me forget how to breathe.
“Yes, sir,” I said quickly. “You told me to stay.”
He nodded, walking closer. Each step echoed against the marble floor.
“And have you figured out why I asked you to?”
I blinked. “I thought it was about the Henderson proposal?”
He smiled faintly. “Is that what you think this is about?”
My stomach twisted. “Then… what is it about?”
He didn’t answer. Not immediately. He stopped beside my desk, eyes on the phone lying face up beside my keyboard the same phone that had sent that cursed text.
He picked it up, looked at the screen, then set it back down.
“You seem nervous,” he said softly.
“I’m not,” I lied.
He tilted his head, studying me. “You’re shaking.”
I looked down at my hands. Damn it. I was.
“I told you it was an accident,” I whispered. “The message wasn’t meant for you.”
He leaned forward, resting his hands on the edge of my desk. “I know.”
I looked up, startled. “You… do?”
He nodded slowly. “You don’t strike me as the kind of woman who flirts with her boss in the middle of the day.”
“Then why...”
“Because I wanted to see how you’d react.”
His voice was calm, but there was something else beneath it. Something that made the air between us heavy.
“You wanted to see how I’d react?” I repeated.
He moved around the desk and stood beside me. Too close.
The faint scent of his cologne hit me again clean, expensive, distracting.
“Yes,” he said. “To know if you’re honest under pressure.”
My brows furrowed. “Is this some kind of test?”
“Everything is a test, Miss James.”
I opened my mouth to reply, but he cut in again.
“You’ve worked here three months. No complaints, no mistakes. Perfect employee. Almost too perfect.”
My chest tightened. “Is that… a bad thing?”
He looked down at me. “Depends. People who never slip up usually have something to hide.”
The way he said it made goosebumps crawl up my skin.
“I don’t have anything to hide,” I said, though my voice came out smaller than I wanted.
“Good,” he murmured. “Then this little mistake won’t be a problem.”
I frowned. “Sir, if you’re going to fire me...”
He laughed. Not loudly just a low, amused sound that made my pulse jump.
“If I wanted to fire you, Lila, I would’ve done it this morning.”
He said my name like it wasn’t supposed to sound that soft coming from him.
“Then… why ask me to stay?”
He straightened. “To remind you that accidents have consequences. Even harmless ones.”
He walked toward the glass wall, hands in his pockets, his reflection caught against the city lights outside.
I swallowed hard. “I didn’t mean—”
“I know you didn’t.”
His voice was quieter now, but colder. “But the world doesn’t care about intentions, Miss James. It only sees results.”
He turned to face me again. His gaze pinned me in place.
“For instance, if someone walked in right now and saw us alone here at night, what do you think they’d assume?”
My stomach dropped. “Sir, I...”
He took a step closer. “They’d think you’re trying to climb your way up, wouldn’t they?”
Heat rushed to my cheeks. “That’s not true!”
“I know,” he said again, almost gently. “But rumors don’t care about the truth.”
Silence filled the room. Heavy. Suffocating.
His gaze didn’t waver. It was sharp enough to cut through the air between us, yet there was something else there now curiosity. Maybe even amusement.
“Tell me something, Miss James,” he said quietly, walking closer until the faint scent of his cologne brushed my senses. “Do you ever learn from your mistakes, or just try to hide them?”
I opened my mouth, but the words tangled on my tongue. “I… I learn from them.”
“Good.” His tone shifted lower, deliberate. “Then we’ll treat this as a lesson.”
My brows knitted. “Lesson?”
He tilted his head slightly, studying me as if I were a puzzle he hadn’t quite figured out. “You sent something you shouldn’t have. You let emotion get ahead of reason. It happens. But it also says something about who you are when you face it.”
“I said I was sorry,” I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper.
“I heard you.” His lips curved, but it wasn’t exactly a smile. “But sometimes words aren’t enough. Sometimes you have to see things clearly before you understand them.”
I blinked. “See things?”
He slipped his hands into his pockets and paced a step away, as though he were debating something. “Dinner. Tomorrow night.”
My heart skipped. “Dinner?”
He turned halfway, his expression unreadable. “Yes. There’s something I’d like to show you something I think you need to understand.”
The way he said it made my pulse race. Not because of the words themselves, but because of everything unspoken between them.
“I don’t think that’s appropriate, sir.”
He finally smiled, slow and deliberate. “Then consider it a professional exercise. Off company grounds. No titles, no formalities.”
My breath hitched. “So… a date?”
His eyes flicked to mine, holding my gaze for what felt like forever. “Call it whatever makes you feel less nervous.”
“I’m not nervous,” I lied.
“Of course you’re not,” he said, his tone dripping with quiet sarcasm. He took another step forward, his presence filling the space. “Seven o’clock. Don’t be late.”
He turned toward the door, pausing with his hand on the handle. “Oh, and Miss James—”
“Yes?”
His voice dropped, rich and low. “Next time you decide to send something private… make sure it’s to the right person.”
My face burned. “I— that was an accident.”
He gave a faint nod. “Accidents have consequences. See you tomorrow.”
The door closed softly behind him, leaving me in the echo of his words my heart pounding, my thoughts spinning out of control.
