At 5:42 p.m. on Thursday, Sofia Williams stood in front of her bedroom mirror, wondering how a charitable school project had managed to ruin her entire week.
She adjusted the sleeve of her cream-coloured blazer, examined her reflection, and frowned.
Too formal.
She removed the blazer.
Too casual.
She put it back on.
"This is ridiculous," she muttered.
She was dressing for a meeting, not a date. There was absolutely no reason to spend fifteen minutes deciding what to wear.
Especially when the person she was meeting was Daniel Carter.
She selected a black handbag, slipped her phone inside, and headed downstairs.
Her mother was in the living room, reading a magazine. She glanced up as Sofia passed.
"Going somewhere?"
"Westbridge."
"Ah. Your meeting with Daniel."
Sofia stopped.
"Why does everyone keep saying his name as if it's an event?"
Her mother lowered the magazine.
"Because you react as if it is."
"I react normally."
"Of course, darling."
Sofia narrowed her eyes.
"You're enjoying this."
"Immensely."
"Goodbye, Mum."
"Have fun!"
"I'm attending a committee meeting!"
"Then have a productive committee meeting!"
Sofia walked out before her mother could say anything else.
By the time she reached Westbridge Academy, she had convinced herself that the evening would be perfectly manageable.
She would arrive on time, discuss the fundraiser, establish clear responsibilities, and leave.
No arguments.
No unnecessary sarcasm.
No revisiting the past.
Simple.
The school looked different from the last time she had visited. The old administrative building had been renovated, the gardens were neatly maintained, and new lights illuminated the walkway leading to the main entrance.
Yet the sight of the familiar school crest above the doors brought back memories she had spent years trying to keep neatly packed away.
She remembered rushing through those doors before morning assembly. She remembered examination halls, interclass competitions, and the constant pressure to stay ahead.
And she remembered Daniel Carter.
Sofia shook her head.
Not tonight.
She entered the building and followed the signs to the conference room.
Voices drifted through the partially open door.
Mrs. Thompson was already there, arranging documents around a long table. Michael Reed sat near the windows, scrolling through his phone. Two other committee members were discussing the school's scholarship programme.
And Daniel—
Daniel stood beside the whiteboard with his jacket draped over the back of a chair, his shirtsleeves folded neatly to his elbows.
He was studying a document.
Sofia paused in the doorway.
It was irritating how natural he looked in the room.
As if he belonged there.
As if he had not spent years being the most aggravating person she knew.
Daniel glanced up.
Their eyes met.
His mouth curved into a smile.
"Williams. You're early."
Sofia checked her watch.
"I'm exactly on time."
"Then I suppose the clocks here are finally working properly."
She gave him a flat look.
"Have you been waiting long?"
"Long enough to consider leaving."
"Wonderful. You should have."
Michael coughed into his hand.
Mrs. Thompson turned around, looking delighted.
"Oh, excellent! You're both here."
"We noticed," Sofia replied.
Daniel pulled out a chair for her.
She looked at it.
Then at him.
"I can sit down without assistance."
"I didn't say you couldn't."
"Then why are you moving my chair?"
"Because it's in the wrong place."
He pushed it toward the table.
Sofia sat down.
"You're still insufferable."
"And you're still welcoming."
"Thank you."
"You're welcome."
Mrs. Thompson clapped her hands once.
"All right, everyone. Before we begin, I'd like to thank you all for volunteering your time. Westbridge has always believed that a student's financial circumstances should never determine how far their talents can take them. This fundraiser will help us provide scholarships for students who need assistance with tuition, learning materials, and examination fees."
The room settled.
For the first time since entering, Sofia's irritation faded.
She looked at the documents in front of her.
She remembered students who had struggled to afford textbooks, classmates who had worked twice as hard because they could not afford private lessons, and teachers who quietly helped those who needed it.
She had been fortunate. Her parents had supported her education and encouraged her ambitions.
Not everyone had received the same opportunities.
"I'm glad the school is doing this," she said.
Mrs. Thompson smiled.
"So are we. Our preliminary target is to raise enough money to support at least twenty students for the next academic year. If the event is successful, we hope to increase that number."
"Twenty students," Michael repeated. "That's a good starting point."
"It is," Sofia agreed. "But we'll need a clear fundraising strategy. A glamorous event might attract attention, but we need to ensure that the costs don't consume the money we're trying to raise."
Daniel nodded.
"Agreed. We should establish a budget before committing to a venue, catering, or entertainment. We can approach corporate sponsors, but we need to demonstrate exactly how their contributions will be used."
Sofia glanced at him.
She had expected a joke.
Or a smug comment about how his company could solve everything with money.
Instead, he had made a sensible point.
She immediately disliked how surprised she was.
Daniel caught her looking.
"Something on my face?"
"An expression of unexpected intelligence."
His eyebrows rose.
"Careful, Williams. That's almost a compliment."
"Don't get comfortable."
"Wouldn't dream of it."
Mrs. Thompson looked between them.
"I see the years haven't changed everything."
"They've changed plenty," Sofia said.
"Absolutely," Daniel agreed. "For example, she now insults me with considerably better vocabulary."
Michael laughed.
Sofia ignored them.
"May we discuss the actual project?"
"Please," Mrs. Thompson said, still smiling.
She distributed the preliminary proposal.
The fundraiser would take place in six weeks. The school wanted an evening event featuring a small fashion showcase, a charity auction, guest speakers, and opportunities for corporate sponsors to contribute.
Sofia studied the proposal carefully.
"The fashion showcase is possible," she said. "Williams Fashion House could organize a presentation featuring selected pieces from our upcoming collection. We could also invite a few emerging designers to participate, provided we establish clear agreements and keep the costs reasonable."
Mrs. Thompson nodded enthusiastically.
"That would be wonderful."
"But I don't want the event to become a commercial advertisement for my company. The scholarship programme must remain the focus."
"Agreed," Daniel said.
Sofia looked at him.
He continued.
"We can offer sponsorship packages to companies interested in supporting the school. Carter Shipping Group could assist with transporting equipment and donated materials, depending on the locations and costs involved. We could also approach our existing partners for financial contributions."
"That's useful," Sofia admitted.
Daniel tilted his head.
"Did I hear that correctly?"
"Don't ruin it."
"I'm trying to preserve the moment."
"Preserve it silently."
Michael shook his head.
"This is going to be a long six weeks."
Mrs. Thompson began assigning responsibilities.
Sofia would oversee the fashion presentation, event design, and visual identity. Daniel would handle corporate sponsorship, logistics, and transportation. They would jointly coordinate the budget and overall event schedule.
When she reached the final point, Sofia raised her hand.
"I have a question."
"Go ahead."
"Why do we need to coordinate the budget jointly? Daniel can handle the logistics, and I can manage the presentation. We can submit our separate reports to the committee."
Daniel folded his arms.
"Because the budget connects both sides of the event. The presentation affects venue requirements, equipment, transportation, and setup costs. If we work separately without coordinating, we'll end up duplicating expenses."
Sofia considered that.
Unfortunately, he was right.
"I understand that," she said. "I'm suggesting we establish clear boundaries so each department can operate efficiently."
"And I'm suggesting we communicate before making decisions that affect the other department."
"Communication is not the problem."
"Excellent. Then we agree."
"We agree on the principle, not your tone."
"My tone?"
"Yes. You speak as if you're explaining something to a child."
Daniel stared at her.
For a moment, she thought he might argue.
Instead, he smiled.
"Would you prefer diagrams?"
Michael made a strangled sound.
Sofia slowly turned toward Daniel.
"You have five seconds to apologize."
"Four."
"Daniel."
"Three."
"Mrs. Thompson, I would like to change partners."
Mrs. Thompson laughed.
"I'm afraid that isn't possible."
"Then I'd like to change committees."
"Also impossible."
"Can I change schools?"
"You're not a student anymore, Sofia."
"That has never stopped anyone from making my life difficult."
Daniel leaned back in his chair.
"I promise to be on my best behaviour."
"Your best behaviour is the problem."
"Imagine what my worst would do to you."
Sofia stared at him.
Then, despite her best efforts, a small laugh escaped.
It was brief.
Barely audible.
But Daniel heard it.
His expression changed for half a second, as though the sound had caught him off guard.
Sofia immediately straightened.
She would not allow him to interpret one accidental laugh as progress.
Mrs. Thompson continued the meeting before either of them could speak.
For the next forty minutes, they reviewed the proposed schedule, identified potential sponsors, and discussed the responsibilities of each committee member.
To Sofia's surprise, Daniel had come prepared.
He had a preliminary list of businesses that might contribute to the event, estimates for transportation costs, and a schedule showing when equipment would need to arrive.
He asked practical questions and listened to the answers.
He disagreed when he thought something would not work, but he explained why instead of simply insisting on his own way.
It was the sort of behaviour Sofia expected from a capable business leader.
She simply had not expected it from him.
At one point, they disagreed about the fashion showcase.
Daniel suggested that the models and equipment should arrive several hours before the event began.
"That will increase the time we need to pay for the venue," Sofia pointed out. "We can arrange delivery earlier in the day and schedule the rehearsal separately."
"And if the equipment is delayed?"
"We build a contingency into the schedule."
"What if the contingency fails?"
"Then we adapt."
Daniel looked at her.
"You make that sound remarkably easy."
"It isn't easy. It's called planning."
He nodded slowly.
"Fair enough."
Sofia blinked.
"What?"
"You're right. We'll arrange an earlier delivery and keep a backup plan."
She stared at him for a moment.
"That was surprisingly reasonable."
"I can be reasonable."
"Evidence remains limited."
He smiled.
"Keep attending the meetings. You'll collect more."
She looked back at her notes before he could see that his answer had amused her.
The meeting ended shortly after seven.
Mrs. Thompson thanked everyone and reminded them that the fundraiser would require cooperation, patience, and flexibility.
Sofia suspected she had looked directly at her and Daniel during the last three words.
As the other committee members gathered their belongings, Daniel approached her with a folder.
"I've put together a preliminary sponsorship list. I'll send you a copy tonight."
"Send it to my work email. I prefer to keep project communication professional."
"Naturally."
"And don't call me Williams in every conversation."
He looked genuinely surprised.
"Would you prefer Sofia?"
"No."
"Then I'm out of options."
"You could try being normal."
"I've been told that's not my strongest quality."
"At least we agree on something."
He laughed.
Sofia slipped her notebook into her handbag.
"I'll send you the proposed showcase schedule by tomorrow afternoon."
"Good. I'll review it before we meet again."
"And if you have any concerns, put them in writing. I don't want unnecessary arguments."
Daniel's expression became thoughtful.
"Do you really think every disagreement has to become an argument between us?"
Sofia's hand paused on the strap of her bag.
The question sounded different from his usual teasing.
For a moment, she could almost believe he was asking sincerely.
She looked at him.
"With you? Usually."
His smile faded.
"That's unfortunate."
"Why?"
"Because I was hoping we could make this work without fighting over every decision."
Something about the quiet honesty in his voice unsettled her.
She had prepared herself for arrogance, sarcasm, and competition.
She had not prepared herself for Daniel to sound as though he genuinely wanted them to get along.
Sofia looked away first.
"We'll see."
It was not a promise.
But it was not a refusal, either.
Daniel nodded.
"Fair enough."
She walked toward the door.
"Sofia?"
She stopped.
It was the first time he had used her first name that evening.
She turned around reluctantly.
"What?"
"I meant what I said at the reunion."
Her chest tightened.
"Which part?"
"That it was good to see you again."
The room seemed to grow quieter.
For a second, she was no longer a twenty-four-year-old CEO standing in a conference room.
She was a teenager again, standing in a school corridor with a heart full of disappointment and a determination never to let Daniel Carter hurt her twice.
She remembered how easily he had dismissed her feelings back then.
She remembered how long it had taken to convince herself that his opinion no longer mattered.
And she remembered the promise she had made herself.
Never again.
Sofia adjusted the strap of her handbag.
"That doesn't change anything, Daniel."
"I know."
"Then don't say things that make it sound as if it does."
He held her gaze.
"All right."
His answer was so simple that she had no idea what to do with it.
She turned and walked out.
The evening air was cool when she reached the car park. She unlocked her car and sat behind the wheel, but she did not start the engine immediately.
The meeting had gone better than she expected.
Daniel had been competent, prepared, and occasionally even reasonable.
He had listened to her suggestions.
He had accepted her corrections.
And he had not once mentioned their final year at school.
Somehow, that bothered her more than if he had.
Because arguing with Daniel was easy.
She knew how to defeat him in an argument. She knew how to respond to his sarcasm. She knew how to keep him at a distance.
But what was she supposed to do with a version of Daniel who seemed determined to treat her as an equal?
She started the engine.
It didn't matter.
Professional respect was not forgiveness.
Cooperation was not friendship.
And one good meeting did not erase years of hurt.
She would remember that.
---
Daniel was still in the conference room when Michael returned from the corridor.
"Where's Sofia?"
"She left."
Michael studied his friend.
"And how did it go?"
"Productively."
"That's disappointing."
Daniel gathered the remaining documents.
"Why?"
"Because I expected at least one chair to be thrown."
"Nobody threw a chair."
"Then I suppose you're both growing as people."
Daniel gave him a warning look.
Michael ignored it.
"So?"
"So what?"
"Did you tell her?"
Daniel's hands stopped moving.
"Tell her what?"
Michael sighed.
"You know what."
"No."
"Daniel—"
"Not tonight."
Michael leaned against the table.
"How long are you planning to wait?"
Daniel looked toward the door Sofia had disappeared through.
He had spent years telling himself that the past was finished. That what happened at Westbridge belonged to another version of himself, one who had been too proud to explain, too stubborn to apologise, and too afraid to admit that winning had never been the only thing that mattered.
Seeing Sofia again had reminded him of how much remained unsaid.
But he couldn't simply walk up to her and demand that she listen.
She had built a life without him.
He would have to earn the right to be heard.
"I don't know," he admitted.
Michael's expression softened.
"Then start by not making things worse."
Daniel gave a quiet laugh.
"Your confidence in me is touching."
"I've known you since we were fifteen. I have years of evidence."
"Go home, Michael."
Michael headed for the door, then paused.
"One more thing."
Daniel closed his eyes.
"What?"
"You smiled when she laughed."
"I smile at lots of things."
"Not like that."
Michael left before Daniel could respond.
For several seconds, Daniel stood alone in the conference room.
Then he looked down at the project folder in his hands.
Six weeks.
Six weeks of meetings, decisions, and working alongside the woman who had once known him better than almost anyone.
He had no idea whether they could ever repair what had broken between them.
But he knew one thing.
He would not let pride make the decision for him again.
Not this time.
End of Chapter 4