Chapter 7
Alistair's POV
By the time I got to the top floor, I was already in work mode. The morning briefing had been cleared, but the conference room for the executive meeting still needed a final check.
I moved between the long polished table and the side credenza, arranging the neatly stacked reports Mr. Evans had prepared, checking the projector connection, and placing his leather-bound notes at the head seat. The glass nameplates gleamed under the ceiling lights, each one perfectly in place.
One by one, the executives filed in, greeting each other in clipped, professional tones. I kept to the side, invisible but ready in case anyone needed something.
Then the glass doors opened again. Jude Evans, the CEO himself, walked in with the calm authority of someone who owned the building — which, in this case, he literally did. Everyone immediately stood, chairs scraping softly against the floor.
Trailing behind him were two people — Lumel Evans and the woman from the elevator. Aurora.
Aurora's smile hit me like a warm light in a cold room. She was the only one who acknowledged me, a slight nod and curve of her lips as she walked past. Lumel didn't nod — but he did look straight at me.
The meeting began, and after some routine updates, Jude stood.
"I'd like to introduce our new Vice President of Strategic Development, Lumel Evans."
Polite applause filled the room. Perks of being the CEO's son, I joined in, though I could feel Lumel's gaze cutting through the space between us.
"And," Jude continued, "joining us as our new Head of Marketing Initiatives, Aurora Davis."
She smiled again — the kind of smile that made people lean forward without realizing it.
Lumel, on the other hand, smiled with all his teeth, like he was either auditioning for a toothpaste commercial or trying to make a point.I wondered if he thought he was being cute or if he just didn't know how to smile any other way.
"I'm happy to work with you all," Lumel said smoothly. "And I hope we can all work together in harmony."
His eyes didn't leave me the entire time.
I looked away first.
The meeting went on, but my mind was half on the minutes I was typing and half on why the new Vice President seemed to be paying so much attention to me.
---
The meeting wrapped up, papers shuffled, and chairs scraped against the polished floor. I was stacking the extra folders when everyone filed out, murmuring polite goodbyes to Mr. Evans. Aurora passed me with that same warm smile as before, and I gave a quick nod back.
Then I felt it — the weight of a stare.
Lumel.
He was still in the room, leaning lazily against the conference table like he had nowhere else to be. Everyone else was gone. My pulse jumped before my brain could explain why.
"Secretary Grant," he said, voice smooth and deliberate.
I swallowed and kept my focus on the folders. "Yes, sir?"
His shoes clicked softly against the floor as he approached, each step unhurried, deliberate — like he wanted me to feel the seconds stretching. "You've been avoiding looking at me all morning."
"I… wasn't aware I was doing that."
"Hmm." He stopped right in front of me. Too close. Close enough that I caught the warm, expensive scent of his cologne — citrus layered over something darker.
His gaze swept over my face, lingering far too long on my mouth. He lifted a hand slowly, almost brushing his fingers against my cheek… but stopped just shy, letting the space between us hum with unspoken things.
"So… are you going to keep pretending you don't remember me?" His voice dropped lower, rich with amusement.
I shifted my weight, my back nearly pressed to the wall. "I… don't know what you're talking about."
His smirk deepened, teeth flashing. "Oh, I think you do."
And just like that, he stepped back, turning toward the door.
"See you around, Secretary Grant."
The warmth of his almost-touch lingered on my skin long after he was gone.
---
Lumel's POV
I didn't know why I'd stayed behind after the meeting.
Maybe I did.
Alistair was there, head down, stacking papers like the perfect little employee. No one else in the room. Just him, me, and the quiet hum of the air conditioner.
I walked over, watching the way his shoulders stiffened before I even said a word. He could pretend all he wanted — I saw it in his eyes earlier, the flicker of recognition he was trying to smother.
The same eyes that had looked at me differently that night.
I stopped in front of him, close enough to see every detail — the way his lashes framed those amber eyes, the slight curve of his soft, pink lips. My hand itched to touch his face, to feel if his skin was as smooth as I remembered.
I raised my hand, just to watch the way his breath caught.
And then I stopped.
Not yet. I wanted him uneasy, unsure. I wanted him to wonder what I'd do next time.
I let a smirk curl at my lips.
"So… are you going to keep pretending you don't remember me?"
He denied it, of course. They always do.
I could've pushed, but where was the fun in that? I turned, walking out like I owned the air he breathed.
"See you around, Secretary Grant."
The next move was his… or maybe it would be mine.