The city was still half-asleep when Denisse arrived at the office.
The sky outside the glass façade hovered somewhere between night and morning, washed in pale blue and soft gray. Streetlights were still on. Traffic was mercifully thin. The building itself felt quieter than usual, as if even it hadn't fully woken up yet.
Denisse checked her watch as she stepped inside.
5:42 a.m.
Early. Earlier than necessary. But that was how she worked.
Her heels clicked softly against the marble floor as she made her way to her desk, the sound echoing faintly in the empty lobby. She set her bag down, slipped out of her coat, and immediately fell into rhythm. Tablet out. Planner aligned. Documents straightened until every edge lined up just right.
This was her element.
She double-checked the day's schedule, the proposal drafts, the financial summaries prepared the night before. She cross-referenced notes, flagged potential questions, and mentally rehearsed answers Lesley might need if the investor pushed back.
Efficiency wasn't something she performed. It was who she was.
It was why Mr. Ashford had trusted her. Why he'd praised her more than once for running the office like clockwork. Why, when he'd stepped back, he'd made sure she stayed.
Denisse settled into her chair, satisfied, just as her phone vibrated against the desk.
Lesley Ashford.
Her stomach tightened.
She cleared her throat before answering, suddenly hyper-aware of the memory she'd rather forget. Her voice last night. Her frustration. Her very loud, very incriminating rant.
"G-good morning, Ms. Ashford," she said, the slight stutter betraying her.
"Good morning, Denisse."
Lesley's voice came through smooth and unbothered. Too smooth.
"I'm already in the car," Lesley continued. "I won't be coming up. Just grab the documents we need from my desk and meet me outside."
"Yes, Ms. Ashford," Denisse replied quickly.
The call ended.
Denisse stared at her phone for a second longer than necessary.
She sounds... normal.
Maybe she hadn't heard it.
Or maybe she had, and was saving it for later.
The thought made her shoulders tense.
She stood, walked briskly to Lesley's office, and gathered the neatly stacked folders from the desk. Proposals. Financials. Investor background notes. Everything she'd prepped, now tucked neatly under her arm.
No room for mistakes today.
She grabbed her bag and headed downstairs.
Lesley's car was already waiting at the front of the building, sleek and dark against the pale morning. The driver stood by, opening the door as Denisse approached.
Lesley sat inside, composed and calm, dressed impeccably despite the early hour. No hint of irritation. No teasing smirk. No sign of retaliation.
Denisse slid into the front passenger seat.
"No," Lesley said casually. "Sit here. Beside me."
Denisse froze, half-turned.
"B-beside you?" she repeated.
"Yes," Lesley replied, already gesturing toward the back. "So I can hear you clearly while you brief me on Mr. Clark."
"Oh. Of course. Yes, ma'am."
Denisse moved quickly, closing the door behind her as she settled into the seat next to Lesley. The space felt... closer than she expected. She caught the faint scent of Lesley's perfume, clean and understated, and forced herself to focus.
"Let's go, Ralph," Lesley said.
The car pulled away smoothly.
Denisse opened her folder and began.
She walked Lesley through Mr. Clark's background, his company's recent acquisitions, the reason for his interest. She highlighted the risks, the opportunities, the angles Lesley could lean into if the conversation drifted in the wrong direction.
Lesley listened in silence, eyes closed, head resting lightly against the seat.
Denisse kept talking, steady and precise, until the rhythm of her own voice began to feel too loud in the quiet car.
She hesitated.
Her words tapered off, unfinished, as she glanced sideways.
Lesley sat unnervingly still beside her, eyes still closed, posture relaxed, as if the gentle sway of the car had coaxed her into sleep. The tension she usually carried seemed absent, replaced by something softer. Human.
Denisse swallowed.
Was she... asleep?
For a brief, dangerous moment, she let herself look.
Lesley's lashes rested dark against her cheeks, her features softened without the sharp edge she usually wore. The elegant line of her nose. The faint curve of her mouth, relaxed now, almost vulnerable. Her lips-soft, parted just slightly, as if she were on the edge of a thought or a dream.
Denisse's chest tightened.
She really is unfairly beautiful.
The realization lingered longer than it should have. Too long.
"I do have a really pretty face, don't I?"
Lesley's voice cut through the moment, calm and amused, her eyes still closed.
Denisse startled, heat rushing to her face. "I- I thought you'd fallen asleep."
A corner of Lesley's mouth curved upward, a quiet, knowing smile. She opened one eye just enough to glance at Denisse. "Mm. Please," she said lightly. "Continue."
Denisse swallowed and forced her gaze back to her notes, her pulse betraying her focus.
She resumed speaking, but the image lingered-the lashes, the lips, the way Lesley had known exactly where her attention had gone.
And worse-
How little Denisse had wanted to look away.
By the time they arrived at the restaurant, the sky had brightened. Warm light filtered through the tall windows as they were led into a private dining room, quiet and discreet. The hum of the restaurant stayed just beyond the door.
Moments later, Mr. Clark arrived with his associates.
Handshakes followed. Polite greetings. Coffee was poured.
Lesley took the lead effortlessly.
She spoke with calm assurance, outlining the company's growth, revenue, and long-term vision. Projections Denisse had mentioned only minutes earlier surfaced seamlessly in Lesley's delivery, expanded and reframed as if they had always been hers to command.
Denisse watched from her seat, quietly stunned.
This was different from the teasing. From the provocation. From the deliberate chaos Lesley so clearly enjoyed.
This was Lesley Ashford, CEO.
Poised. Intelligent. Sharp.
A direct reflection of her father-and yet, undeniably her own.
Lesley didn't hesitate once. Every response landed clean and confident, her timing precise, her composure unshaken. Watching her work was... disarming.
Oh my god.
She's even hotter like this.
The thought slipped in uninvited, and Denisse froze, mortified by how easily it had formed. Her pulse jumped, heat blooming along her neck, her mouth suddenly dry.
No. Absolutely not. That was not a work-appropriate observation.
Focus. Professionalism. Breathe.
Mr. Clark nodded along, clearly impressed.
"Well," he said at last, smiling, "those are impressive numbers, Ms. Ashford."
"We aim to earn trust," Lesley replied smoothly. "And to exceed expectations."
Mr. Clark leaned back. "I think we've heard enough. I'm confident we'll be working together very soon."
Denisse felt a quiet rush of relief.
"Please send over the proposals," Mr. Clark continued. "We'll set a date to finalize everything."
"Of course," Lesley said. "We'll have everything ready."
Handshakes followed once more.
When the room finally emptied, silence settled.
Denisse turned to Lesley, unable to hide her smile. "Congratulations, Ms. Ashford. You did very well."
Lesley glanced at her, eyes warm. "We did well."
She winked.
Denisse's breath hitched before she could stop it. The moment caught somewhere in her chest, sharp and unfamiliar, as if something had shifted without asking permission. Pride mixed with relief. With something warmer. Something dangerously close to fondness.
Lesley stood. "Come on."
Denisse followed her out, heart lighter than it had been all week, her steps almost buoyant despite herself. The tension that had lived between them felt thinner now, stretched but not broken, like a truce neither of them had formally declared.
She knew better than to trust it.
She knew this peace wouldn't last.
But as she walked just half a step behind Lesley, warmth still lingering where irritation used to sit, Denisse let herself hold onto the feeling anyway.
Just for now-
It was enough.