The afternoon light slanted through the tall glass windows of Lesley Ashford's office, warm and unhurried, stretching long shadows across polished wood and neatly stacked folders. It should have been the perfect hour for productivity.
It wasn't.
Lesley sat back in her executive chair, one leg crossed lazily over the other, a fountain pen resting untouched between her fingers. In front of her, documents lay spread across the desk—contracts, proposals, schedules—important things that required attention.
She ignored every single one.
Her gaze drifted to the smart privacy glass wall opposite her desk. With a tap earlier, she'd turned it dark from the outside—one-way now. A small luxury. A petty one. But useful.
Beyond the glass, Denisse sat at her desk just outside the office, perfectly framed. Back straight. Shoulders squared. Fingers flying efficiently across her keyboard. Focused. Composed. Professional to an infuriating degree.
Lesley's lips curved slowly.
That Saturday meeting couldn't be an accident.
Her eyes drifted briefly to the documents on the tablet Denisse had organized last week.
You definitely mixed the documents on purpose, Lesley thought. I know you did. I can't prove it... but I know that was your little revenge.
Her gaze returned to Denisse, lingering.
Let's see how long you can keep that calm act.
Lesley leaned forward and pressed the intercom button, the soft click echoing in the quiet office.
"Denisse," she said smoothly, voice sweetened just enough. "Can you come in here for a second, please?"
Outside, Denisse paused mid-typing. She straightened instinctively and rose from her chair.
"Yes, Ms. Ashford," came the prompt reply.
A beat passed.
Then a polite knock sounded against the door.
"Come in."
The door opened, and Denisse stepped inside, closing it softly behind her. Lesley immediately dropped her gaze to one of the documents on her desk, pretending to read, though not a single word registered.
"Yes, Ms. Ashford?" Denisse asked, standing just a few steps in, hands neatly folded in front of her.
Lesley hummed softly, as if deep in thought, then looked up. "I seem to have misplaced something."
Denisse blinked. "Something, ma'am?"
"My hair clip," Lesley said, tapping her pen against the desk absentmindedly. "It has a diamond. Heart-shaped design on top."
Denisse's brows knit together slightly. "I see. Would you like me to look for it here in your office?"
Lesley tilted her head, considering, then shook it slowly. "I don't think it's here."
She stood, walking a few steps across the room, gaze drifting toward the window as if replaying memories. "You should probably start from the lobby... then work your way up. Every floor."
Denisse stared at her.
"...Every floor?" she repeated.
"Yes," Lesley replied lightly. "I don't know when I lost it. Or where. Could've been anywhere."
Denisse hesitated, professionalism battling disbelief. "Ms. Ashford... there are twenty-five floors."
Lesley sighed, placing a hand over her chest dramatically. "It was a gift from my grandmother. She would be devastated if she knew I lost it."
Something softened briefly in Denisse's expression. "Oh. I understand. But it might be faster if I asked the security team for help—"
"No," Lesley said quickly, perhaps a bit too quickly.
She turned, meeting Denisse's eyes fully now. "It's very expensive. And very personal. I'd rather it only be handled by someone I trust."
The words landed heavier than they should have.
Denisse inhaled once, slowly, then nodded. "Alright," she said. "I'll start looking."
She paused, then added carefully, "It may take some time, though."
Lesley smiled then—warm, bright, entirely pleased with herself.
"That's fine," she said. "Thank you, Denisse. You're the best."
Denisse hesitated, just for a fraction of a second, as if she sensed something beneath the sweetness. Then she gave a polite nod.
"I'll let you know if I find it, Ms. Ashford."
With that, she turned and left the office, the door clicking softly shut behind her.
Lesley waited until she was gone before sinking back into her chair, a low, satisfied laugh escaping her lips.
Petty? Maybe.
But watching Denisse try to stay composed while unknowingly enduring her perfectly harmless revenge?
Absolutely worth it.
--
Denisse stood in the lobby, clipboard tucked under her arm, staring up at the digital directory that listed all twenty-five floors of the building.
Twenty-five.
She let out a slow breath through her nose.
Professional, she reminded herself. You are being professional.
The lobby smelled faintly of polished marble and fresh coffee from the café near the entrance. Everything gleamed. Everything was orderly. Which made this task feel even more absurd.
A missing diamond hair clip.
Somewhere.
In a building this size.
She straightened her shoulders and began anyway.
By the third floor, Denisse was still calm.
Focused.
She checked common areas first. Reception desks. Lounge tables. Side counters where people casually placed things they swore they wouldn't forget. She bent down, peered under chairs, scanned surfaces with trained efficiency.
Nothing.
It's fine, she told herself. This is part of the job.
By the sixth floor, her heels had begun to protest.
She paused near a window, jotting a quick note on her clipboard. No clip. No sparkle. No heart-shaped anything.
Of course it's sentimental, she thought dryly. Of course it's irreplaceable.
She resumed walking.
By the tenth floor, irritation crept in.
Not full-blown anger. Just a mild, prickling awareness at the back of her mind.
She crouched to look beneath a low table in the staff lounge, smoothing her skirt automatically.
How does someone lose a diamond hair clip? she wondered. Does it just... leap out of your hair and wander off?
She stood and dusted off her hands.
Still nothing.
By the fifteenth floor, Denisse slowed.
Not physically.
Mentally.
She stopped outside a glass-walled conference room, staring at her own reflection instead of searching.
Something wasn't adding up.
Lesley Ashford was careless in many ways, yes. Late nights. Missed meals. Chaotic energy. But sentimental things? Things tied to family?
Denisse frowned.
She wouldn't just... not notice.
Her phone buzzed softly in her pocket. An email notification. Work-related. She ignored it and kept walking.
By the eighteenth floor, suspicion took root.
It was subtle at first. A quiet itch behind her ribs.
She retraced her steps through a hallway she had already checked twice, slower this time. More deliberate.
Nothing.
No clip.
No sign anyone else had seen it either.
She straightened slowly, eyes narrowing.
Unless...
Her thoughts drifted, unbidden, to that amused smile. The way Lesley had watched her earlier. The sweetness in her voice when she said You're the best, Denisse.
Denisse stopped walking.
She exhaled sharply.
No. Don't be ridiculous.
She resumed her search.
By the twenty-second floor, Denisse knew.
Not with proof.
With instinct.
That quiet, unmistakable certainty that came from being very good at reading people.
She stood alone near a set of elevators, clipboard hanging loosely at her side.
She's doing this on purpose.
The realization didn't hit like anger.
It hit like clarity.
Denisse let out a short, humorless laugh.
Of course she is.
A revenge. Small. Harmless. Annoyingly clever.
Her jaw tightened.
Fine.
If Lesley Ashford wanted to play games, Denisse would finish the task exactly as instructed.
The elevator ride to the top floor felt longer than all the others combined.
Denisse adjusted her blouse, smoothed her skirt, and straightened her posture before stepping out.
Professional to the end.
She crossed the hallway toward Lesley's office, heels clicking with controlled precision. She raised her hand and knocked once.
"Come in," Lesley's voice called.
Denisse opened the door.
Lesley sat behind her desk, composed, elegant, perfectly put together in her tailored suit. She looked up, expression neutral, expectant.
Denisse stopped just inside the doorway.
"I didn't find it," she said evenly. "I checked every floor."
For a heartbeat, Lesley simply looked at her.
Then—
"Oh."
Lesley blinked, reaching casually into the pocket of her suit jacket.
And pulled out the hair clip.
The diamond caught the light instantly, sparkling innocently between her fingers.
"I found it."
Silence filled the office.
Denisse stared.
Slowly, she lifted her gaze to Lesley's face.
Her expression didn't change.
But her eyes spoke volumes.
You did this on purpose.
Lesley smiled.
Not apologetic.
Not even guilty.
Just pleased.
"Well," she said lightly, placing the clip on her desk. "Looks like it was with me the whole time."
Denisse inhaled.
Exhaled.
Then smiled.
A very polite smile.
"I'm glad it's been found, Ms. Ashford," she said calmly.
Lesley's eyes glittered. "Me too."
They held each other's gaze for a moment longer than necessary.
Something unspoken passed between them.
Challenge.
Amusement.
And the unmistakable promise that this wasn't over.
Denisse turned and walked out of the office without another word.
Behind her, Lesley leaned back in her chair, fingers brushing the diamond clip, her smile widening.
Worth it.