Harley
It was still early when Levi arrived.
I hadn't even had time to finish the toast I forced myself to make. My stomach felt too tight for food anyway. Maybe it was the pressure of this meeting, or the silence from Steve — or both.
The usual rumble of Levi's black SUV filled the driveway as he pulled up exactly on the dot, 7 a.m. Of course. Punctuality wrapped in a suit. He was always like that — alarmingly precise, unnervingly quiet. Like a shadow with a military haircut and secrets behind those eyes.
I straightened my dress — navy, fitted, sleeveless, with a high neck and an open back — as I locked the door to the flat. The morning air was cool, brushing against my skin. As I approached, Levi stepped out and opened the passenger door for me without a word. His eyes flicked over me once — just once — before he turned back toward the driver's side.
I slid in, exhaling as I settled into the seat. He handed me a coffee — oat milk cappuccino, just the way I liked it — and a neatly wrapped sandwich in a brown paper bag.
" Morning" was all he said.
His voice was smooth, low, as always. Nothing more. But it lingered in the space between us.
We drove in silence, and I chewed quietly, pretending not to care that Steve still hadn't replied to my text. I sent it nearly an hour ago — just a simple "Good morning, I have a big meeting today, wish me luck." I had typed and deleted it three times before sending.
Still nothing.
I kept checking my phone anyway.
When we entered the venue — a stunning co-working loft just off Shoreditch — he got out, rounded the car, and opened my door again. My heels clicked softly against the concrete floor as we entered the glass building, Levi trailing behind me like a loyal shadow.
"Your dress," He said, pulling me out of my spiraling thoughts. "The zipper's slipping."
I blinked again, confused. "What—?"
Before I could say anything else, he reached out — smooth, unhurried — and tugged the zipper at my side just a few centimeters higher. His fingers brushed my waist. Just a second. Not even a full second.
But it stayed with me like a mark.
"Thanks," I mumbled, heat crawling up my neck. He didn't reply.
Inside, the long conference room buzzed with nervous energy. It was time for my team to finally meet Gabriella's.
I was... nervous. Which wasn't like me.
But Gabriella Dupont was a powerhouse, and her team? Power players. From the moment we first met, I knew she didn't take on projects she didn't believe in. This collaboration meant everything to me.
The moment Gabriella entered, with her oversized blazer and infectious grin, the room brightened.
"Harley!" she greeted, arms open like we were old friends. "Look at you. Killing it as always."
I smiled — genuinely this time. "Gabriella. You're radiant."
She turned to her team, gesturing to me. "Everyone, this is the Harley Smith. Founder, designer, creative genius. Behave yourselves."
I chuckled under my breath as my team stood a little straighter.
Introductions passed quickly. My six selected designers lined up nervously — a blend of bright minds and bold tastes. Gabriella's team mirrored that energy: confident, innovative, polished.
We jumped into discussions about the campaign theme, the venue's layout, lighting, materials. I guided the conversation, but Gabriella was the sun — warm, orbiting everyone with her charm, and somehow pulling them into her gravity.
And Levi?
He stood outside the glass door the whole time, back against the wall, arms crossed. Watching.
Silent.
Safe.
Reliable.
Unreachable.
I don't know why I kept glancing at him.
Or why I wished — just for once — he'd look back.
The meeting was a success. That should've made me happy.
It did, I guess — on the surface. My team seemed energised, Gabriella's was impressed, and the vision was coming together faster than I expected. But under it all, there was something tight in my chest. Like a thread pulled too far.
Maybe it was Steve's silence. Still nothing. Not even a little blue tick to say he'd seen my message.
Maybe it was the way Gabriella's team seemed to fit together like a puzzle — seamless and enthusiastic — while mine still carried the tension of long nights and tight deadlines.
Or maybe it was something else entirely.
As we wrapped up, people broke off into smaller circles — exchanging numbers, discussing colour palettes, laughing softly about design trends. I stepped aside to check my phone again — nothing — and caught sight of Gabriella leaning close to one of her assistants, whispering something with a sly grin.
That's when I noticed it.
A woman — tall, auburn hair, perfect cheekbones — was giggling softly, tucked into the corner near the window. At first, I thought nothing of it. But then her eyes flicked toward Levi.
He hadn't moved from his post outside the conference room. Still back against the wall, still stoic. His gaze was fixed ahead, not on anyone in particular.
But then — it happened.
She walked over to refill her water bottle. Just close enough. Just slow enough.
I saw her glance at him.
Saw her smile.
And — God — I saw him notice.
He didn't smile back. Of course not. Levi didn't do smiling. But his eyes paused on her for a beat longer than usual. His head tilted — barely. A flicker of awareness. Recognition.
It was small.
Insignificant.
But it made my stomach twist.
I didn't even realise Gabriella had stepped beside me until she nudged me lightly with her elbow.
"Your bodyguard's hot, by the way, u know right. And you sure ur do not want a trade" she whispered with a mischievous grin.
I blinked, caught off guard. "He's… professional. Leave the man alone"
"Oh, I can tell," she teased. "That whole 'silent protector' vibe? Very man-in-a-thriller-novel."
I rolled my eyes, forcing a laugh. "No, thanks. He's good."
Gabriella winked. "Suit yourself."
As she turned to leave, she brushed past Levi again— and I swear she let her fingers graze his arm, just lightly. A flirtatious touch hidden in plain sight.
He didn't move. Didn't flinch. But I felt something flare in my chest that I didn't want to name.
Jealousy.
Ridiculous.
He was my bodyguard. A man hired to keep me alive, not… not liked. Or wanted. Or cared for.
And yet… I couldn't stop watching him.
I told myself it was just curiosity. Or maybe unease. But deep down, I knew better.
When the meeting ended and we began packing up, Linda Gray — the auburn-haired team lead from Gabriella's side — approached me with a smile.
"Such a pleasure to meet you, Harley," she said sweetly. "You have a brilliant mind. I can't wait to collaborate."
Her voice was syrupy smooth. I smiled back, polite but cool.
Then she added, "And your security detail is… very memorable."
I didn't respond. Just nodded.
She smirked and walked away.
I hated that I'd memorised her name. Linda Gray.
Hated more that I noticed how she flipped her hair when Levi walked by.
Later, when we exited the venue, Levi opened the car door for me again. I climbed in, grateful for the darkened glass, the safety of solitude. I didn't speak, and neither did he.
But my heart wouldn't quiet.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw him looking at her.
Even if it was just for a second.
Even if it meant nothing.
Because to me?
It meant something.
And I hated that it did.