Lesley still managed to make her way to her father's office—her office soon, everyone kept reminding her—even though every step felt premature, like wearing shoes a size too big. She wasn't ready. Not for the title. Not for the responsibility. Not for the weight of expectation pressing against her spine.
She crossed the threshold and moved toward the chair behind the desk, her father's chair, the leather still warm from his presence. The room smelled faintly of polished wood and his familiar cologne, grounding and heavy all at once.
She turned.
And froze.
Standing a few feet away, perfectly straight, hands clasped in front of her like a statue carved from shock, was the last person Lesley ever expected to see again.
The universe, apparently, had a cruel sense of humor.
"You?!" they said in unison.
Anthony blinked, glancing between them. "You two know each other already?"
Lesley felt the corner of her mouth curl upward before she could stop it. Well, well, well, she thought, her pulse quickening with something darkly amused. If it isn't the chaos magnet herself.
She leaned back slightly, crossing her arms, studying Denisse the way one examined a fascinating accident—unable to look away.
"Let's just say," Lesley said smoothly, "the universe is being unusually generous today. Giving me such an efficient and intelligent assistant, just like you promised, Dad."
Denisse looked like she had seen a ghost.
Her face drained of color, eyes wide and glassy, as if the room had tilted beneath her feet. For a brief second, Lesley almost felt bad.
Almost.
But Denisse inhaled slowly, visibly forcing herself to steady. Her shoulders squared. Her mask slid back into place.
"Good morning, Ms. Ashford," Denisse said, her voice professional, controlled, though her fingers trembled ever so slightly at her sides.
Anthony glanced at his watch. "I'll leave you two to get acquainted. I have a meeting with the board."
Lesley nodded, but her gaze never left Denisse.
"Yes, Mr. Anthony," Denisse replied politely.
The door closed behind him with a soft click that sounded far louder than it should have.
Silence settled.
Lesley took her time. She walked around the desk, heels clicking deliberately, each step measured. Her fingers brushed over a neat stack of files until she found what she was looking for.
She picked it up.
"Denisse Moore," she read aloud, her tone almost gentle. She looked up, eyes glinting. "Hmm. Beautiful name. It suits you."
Denisse didn't respond. She just stared ahead, jaw tight, breath shallow.
Lesley's smile sharpened.
"So tell me, Denisse Moore," she said calmly, setting the file down. "Why should I retain you in this position after you slashed my tire and flipped me off right in front of a security camera?"
Denisse swallowed.
"I—I—" Her voice cracked, panic flickering across her face.
Before she could finish, the door burst open.
"I'm sorry, Ms. Ashford," Gigi said breathlessly, peeking inside. "Your father is asking you to join the board meeting so he can formally introduce you."
Lesley exhaled through her nose, irritation briefly flashing across her features. She nodded once.
"I'm coming."
She walked toward the door, then stopped just inches from Denisse. The air between them felt charged, tight, electric.
"I guess," Lesley said softly, tilting her head, "we'll be seeing each other a lot from now on."
The words were a tease.
The look in her eyes was a warning.
Then she turned and left.
--
Later that night, Denisse sat on her couch, knees pulled to her chest, the living room dim except for the glow of a single lamp. The quiet pressed in on her, too loud, too heavy.
"Oh my God," she whispered, dragging her hands down her face. "Of all the people in the world... why does she have to be my new boss?"
Her voice wavered.
"How am I supposed to work for her after what I did to her motorbike?" she muttered, shaking her head. "What was I thinking?"
She let out a strangled scream and buried her face in a pillow.
"Is she going to fire me? Or sue me?" Her chest tightened. "Oh my God, I can't lose this job. I worked so hard for this."
She sat up abruptly, breathing fast, then froze.
Wait.
Her thoughts slowed.
Mr. Anthony's words echoed in her head. She needs someone capable. Someone steady.
Denisse straightened.
"But... her dad told me to help her," she said quietly to herself. "And I'm the only one who knows how things run there."
A small spark of resolve flared.
"She needs me," Denisse said, nodding slowly. "More than I need her."
She inhaled deeply, then exhaled, grounding herself.
"Okay," she murmured. "Relax. Don't panic."
Her lips pressed into a determined line.
"I won't lose to her game this time."
Outside, the city lights flickered on—unaware that two women, bound by chance, tension, and unfinished business, were already on a collision course neither of them could escape.