Lesley sat behind her desk, though very little work was actually getting done.
The polished mahogany surface that usually reflected her obsessive sense of order had disappeared beneath stacks of paperwork. Financial reports. Partnership proposals. Contracts waiting for her signature. Her tablet rested near her elbow, the screen lighting up every few minutes with new notifications before fading dark again.
Normally, she would have cleared half of it by now.
Instead, one particular report remained open in front of her, untouched for so long that the numbers had begun to blur together.
Her pen hovered above the page.
A beat passed.
Then another.
With a quiet exhale, she lowered the pen onto the desk.
The office was silent except for the distant hum of air-conditioning and the occasional muffled sounds drifting from the executive floor beyond the glass walls.
Her gaze lifted before she could stop it.
And landed exactly where it always seemed to lately.
On Denisse.
Across the hallway, Denisse sat at her workstation, completely unaware she was being watched.
Her hair was loosely tied back today, though several stubborn strands had escaped and curled near her temples. A pencil rested behind one ear as she leaned over her laptop, eyes narrowed in concentration. Beside her sat an open notebook filled with colorful sticky notes and scribbled reminders.
For several seconds, Denisse stared at the screen.
Then her expression soured.
Her fingers immediately attacked the keyboard.
The rapid clacking echoed faintly through the glass.
A few more furious keystrokes.
Then she slumped back in her chair and sighed dramatically, glaring at the laptop as though it had committed a personal betrayal.
Lesley bit the inside of her cheek.
The smile arrived anyway.
Small.
Uninvited.
Dangerously fond.
She quickly straightened in her chair.
Focus.
Her eyes dropped back to the report.
Revenue projections.
Quarterly growth.
Projected market expansion.
Words.
Numbers.
Letters arranged into meaningless shapes.
Two seconds later, her attention drifted right back across the hallway.
Denisse was on the phone now.
One hand held the receiver while the other moved animatedly through the air. She pointed toward her monitor, waved toward absolutely nothing, then pinched the bridge of her nose in exasperation as though the person on the other end should somehow understand exactly what she was doing.
Lesley could practically imagine the conversation.
A warmth spread quietly through her chest.
Soft.
Steady.
Dangerously pleasant.
Her gaze lingered longer than it should have.
The afternoon sunlight filtered through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting pale gold across the office floor. It caught in Denisse's hair whenever she moved, creating faint highlights that seemed to appear and disappear with every turn of her head.
Lesley's fingers tightened slightly against the armrest.
Ridiculous.
Absolutely ridiculous.
She was the CEO of a multi-million-dollar technology and security company.
People came to her for decisions that affected entire departments.
Investors trusted her judgment.
Competitors feared her.
And yet here she was.
Watching her assistant through a glass wall like some hopeless teenager sneaking glances across a classroom.
The realization made her groan inwardly.
If her friends could see her right now, she would never hear the end of it.
Lesley leaned back in her chair.
The leather creaked softly beneath her.
Her eyes drifted toward the clock mounted on the wall.
Three twenty-seven.
Her stomach immediately tightened.
The car.
It should be arriving soon.
The nervousness returned at once, coiling low in her chest.
She hated that feeling.
Board meetings didn't make her nervous.
Negotiations didn't make her nervous.
High-stakes contracts worth millions didn't make her nervous.
But somehow waiting to see whether Denisse would accept a gift had her checking the time every five minutes.
Her gaze slipped back toward the hallway.
Denisse was still talking, now frowning at something written in her notebook.
Would she accept it?
Lesley wasn't sure.
Actually, she was fairly certain she wouldn't.
Denisse had a remarkable talent for refusing expensive things.
Designer bags.
Luxury watches.
Jewelry.
Every attempt Lesley had made had been met with varying levels of horror.
The memory of Denisse nearly choking when she learned the price of a handbag surfaced immediately.
Lesley's mouth twitched.
A car was significantly harder to hide.
She rubbed a hand across her jaw.
Maybe this had been a mistake.
Maybe she should have chosen something smaller.
Less intimidating.
Less likely to send Denisse into a panic.
The thought lasted all of three seconds.
Her fingers tapped lightly against the desk.
Once.
Twice.
Then another memory surfaced.
The dealership.
And Athena.
Lesley's eyes immediately closed.
A long sigh escaped her.
Of course Athena had been there.
Of all the dealerships in the city.
Of all the days she could have visited.
Of all the possible moments.
Athena had somehow materialized exactly when Lesley was trying to buy a car for Denisse.
Because apparently the universe enjoyed making her suffer.
The dealership was enormous.
Glass walls stretched from floor to ceiling, letting the morning sunlight spill across rows of polished vehicles that gleamed like museum pieces.
Everything smelled faintly of leather and new machinery.
Lesley stepped inside with the calm, purposeful stride she carried everywhere. Her heels clicked against the smooth tile floor while the security guard near the entrance quickly straightened.
"Good morning, ma'am."
Lesley gave a small nod of acknowledgement as the door was held open for her.
Almost immediately, a salesperson approached with the eager smile of someone who had just spotted a very profitable customer.
"Hello, ma'am! Good morning. Welcome." He gestured toward the display floor. "What car do you have in mind today? We just received our newest sports car model."
Lesley glanced briefly toward the sleek red sports car positioned on a rotating display.
She looked unimpressed.
"Hmm."
Her gaze shifted across the rows of vehicles.
"Let me look around first," she said calmly. "I'll decide which one is best."
"Of course, ma'am. Right this way."
The salesperson guided her down the showroom floor.
They passed luxury SUVs, compact electric models, sleek sedans in deep blacks and silvers.
Lesley examined them carefully.
Not just casually looking.
She checked the panel lines.
The interior finishes.
The trunk space.
The seat adjustments.
She asked questions about durability, mileage, safety ratings, maintenance schedules.
The salesperson began sweating slightly around the fifteen-minute mark.
By the time they stopped beside a black sedan, he was clearly trying very hard to keep up with her level of scrutiny.
"This model has one of the most efficient hybrid engines in its class," he explained while gesturing toward the vehicle. "Excellent handling, smooth suspension, and the interior technology is fully customizable."
Lesley walked around the car slowly.
Her fingers brushed lightly across the roof before she leaned toward the window, examining the interior.
She tried to imagine someone else sitting in the driver's seat.
Denisse.
Denisse complaining about traffic.
Denisse singing badly to whatever music was playing.
Denisse probably leaving coffee cups in the cup holder.
The thought made Lesley's lips twitch.
Then suddenly—
A face appeared in the opposite window.
Leaning in from the other side of the car.
"And when exactly did a simple sedan catch your interest?"
The voice came so unexpectedly that Lesley straightened in alarm, nearly smacking the top of her head against the door frame.
She caught herself at the last second.
Across from her, standing beside the vehicle with entirely too much amusement on her face, was Athena.
Of course.
Athena smiled slowly, the kind of smile that meant trouble had already arrived and settled in comfortably.
Lesley stepped away from the vehicle and smoothed an imaginary wrinkle from her suit jacket.
"And why are you here?"
Athena rested an elbow on the roof of the sedan as though she owned the place.
"Oh, I'm just looking for a car for my mom."
Her gaze drifted meaningfully over the vehicle.
"And you?"
Lesley didn't hesitate.
"I am checking vehicles for a company car."
Athena's eyebrow lifted.
"A company car."
"Yes."
The silence stretched.
Athena glanced around the sprawling dealership. Bright showroom lights reflected off polished paint and gleaming chrome. Salespeople moved between customers with practiced smiles while soft instrumental music played overhead.
Then she looked back at Lesley.
"And the CEO personally came here to choose it?"
"Yes."
Athena's second eyebrow joined the first.
"How hands-on of you."
Lesley remained expressionless.
Athena circled slightly, dragging her fingertips along the roof of the sedan.
"And the CEO is also personally evaluating seat stitching?"
She tapped the leather interior.
"And trunk capacity?"
Lesley's jaw tightened.
"Attention to detail is important."
"Mm."
Athena peered through the open driver's window.
"The CEO also tested whether the cup holders were convenient?"
Lesley stared at her.
Athena grinned.
Lesley crossed her arms.
"And when did another CEO begin interrogating people about their company vehicles?"
Athena opened her mouth.
Paused.
Thought about it.
Then reluctantly nodded.
"…Fair."
For one glorious second, Lesley thought she had won.
Then the salesperson returned.
He approached with the excited energy of someone carrying very good news.
"Ma'am!"
Athena immediately perked up.
The salesperson smiled brightly at Lesley.
"I spoke with our customization team. They confirmed the vehicle can be delivered tomorrow."
Relief flickered briefly through Lesley's chest.
"Good."
The salesman beamed.
"And the pastel pink color you requested can absolutely be done."
The showroom suddenly felt very quiet.
Athena froze.
The smile on her face disappeared.
Then reappeared much, much wider.
Slowly, she turned her head toward Lesley.
"Pastel pink."
Lesley kept her expression perfectly neutral.
Years of board meetings had trained her for moments exactly like this.
"Yes."
Athena blinked once.
"Your company car."
"Yes."
Another blink.
Athena stared at her.
One second.
Two.
Three.
Then she doubled over laughing.
The sound echoed through the showroom.
Several nearby customers turned to look.
"Oh my God."
Lesley closed her eyes briefly.
"Shut up."
Athena clutched her stomach.
"Pastel pink?"
"It will be easier to identify in parking lots."
That only made Athena laugh harder.
"Oh, that's excellent."
Lesley's patience began evaporating.
"It is a practical choice."
"Of course it is."
Athena was wheezing now.
"Nothing says corporate security and technology empire quite like pastel pink."
Lesley pinched the bridge of her nose.
The salesperson, sensing danger, quietly took a step backward.
Athena wiped at the corner of one eye.
"Please tell me there are matching flowers painted on the side."
"There are not."
"A bow?"
"No."
"Heart-shaped seat covers?"
"No."
Athena looked genuinely disappointed.
"Missed opportunity."
Lesley pointed toward the opposite end of the showroom.
"Go find Mrs. Montclair a car."
Athena inhaled sharply, trying and failing to compose herself.
"Right. Yes. Absolutely."
She turned and started walking away.
Lesley finally relaxed.
Then Athena stopped.
Slowly turned back.
And flashed the most insufferable grin Lesley had ever seen.
"Ms. Pastel Pink."
Lesley stared at her.
Athena's grin widened.
"Catchy nickname, don't you think?"
"Leave."
Athena laughed again.
"Can't wait to see your company's very important executive sedan."
"Leave."
"Maybe add glitter."
"Athena."
"Just a suggestion."
"Athena."
Athena raised both hands in surrender and finally began backing away.
"Alright, alright. I'm leaving."
She took several steps before turning around and continuing across the showroom.
For one brief, glorious moment, Lesley thought the interrogation was finally over.
Then Athena's voice drifted back.
Just loud enough.
Just obnoxious enough.
"This is definitely for a girl."
Lesley's entire body went still.
The showroom suddenly felt much warmer than it had a second ago.
Lesley pretended she didn't hear that.
Unfortunately, her ears had turned slightly red.
Lesley watched her go.
The moment Athena disappeared around the corner, the salesperson cautiously stepped forward again.
"...Should I note that the customer would also like glitter, ma'am?"
Lesley looked at him.
The poor man visibly reconsidered every life choice that had led him to this conversation.
"...No, ma'am."
"Good."
"Understood, ma'am."
He hurried away.
Lesley exhaled slowly and looked back at the sedan.
Pastel pink.
For a moment, despite Athena's relentless teasing, a small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.
Denisse was going to lose her mind when she saw it. And somehow, that thought made the entire ordeal worth it.
Across the showroom floor, Athena was watching.
Still laughing.
-
Later that night, the office had finally gone quiet.
Most of the lights were already dimmed, leaving only a few rows of fluorescent lamps humming faintly above the nearly empty floor. Their pale glow stretched across polished tiles and glass partitions, casting long reflections that made the building feel even more spacious after everyone had gone home.
Lesley stepped out of the elevator and into the lobby.
Her heels struck the marble floor in calm, even rhythms. Each step echoed softly in the late-night stillness. She loosened the sleeve of her coat slightly, rolling the tension from her wrist after hours spent signing documents and staring at screens.
Outside the tall glass entrance, the night had settled thick and cool. The faint smell of asphalt and distant traffic drifted in whenever the door slid open.
Lesley already knew who she would see.
It had become almost predictable.
Sure enough, before she even reached the exit, she spotted them near the glass doors.
Denisse and Gigi stood just beside the entrance, their silhouettes framed by the glow of the streetlights outside. Gigi was talking animatedly as always, hands moving in exaggerated gestures while Denisse listened beside her with a softer, quieter presence.
Lesley slowed slightly.
Not enough for anyone to notice.
Her gaze moved past them to the curb.
The black car pulled up just as Denisse and Gigi said their goodbyes to their colleagues.
Lesley saw the headlights sweep across the pavement even before the vehicle came to a full stop. The low hum of the engine carried faintly through the glass doors.
She already knew who it was.
Denver.
Of course.
Gigi reacted immediately.
"Oh! He's here!"
Her voice brightened as she grabbed Denisse's arm and tugged her forward with excitement that felt far too loud for the quiet lobby.
Denisse laughed softly. "You're acting like we didn't just see him this afternoon."
"That's different," Gigi said quickly. "He said he's treating us to hotpot tonight. You don't keep hotpot waiting."
Lesley continued toward the exit.
Her pace remained unchanged.
At least outwardly.
The glass doors slid open ahead of them with a soft mechanical hum. Cool night air drifted inside, carrying the scent of concrete, asphalt, and distant traffic.
Lesley's gaze followed the vehicle automatically.
Denver sat behind the wheel.
Of course he did.
Gigi was already smiling.
The passenger door unlocked with a soft click as Denver leaned slightly across the driver's seat.
Gigi grinned immediately. "See? Gentleman."
Denisse only shook her head, amused, before stepping toward the car.
Lesley's gaze followed her movement automatically.
Something tightened quietly in her chest.
He's driving her home again.
The thought arrived sharp and entirely unwelcome.
Denisse reached for the passenger door handle.
But before she could pull it open, another hand closed gently over hers, stopping the motion entirely.
Denisse blinked in surprise and turned.
Lesley stood beside her.
Close enough that the faint scent of her perfume lingered between them, cool and restrained. Her fingers rested calmly over the door handle, covering Denisse's hand without force, yet leaving no question about who had stopped the motion.
Denisse blinked.
"Ms. Ashford, what—"
Lesley moved before the question could finish.
Her other hand slipped into her coat pocket and withdrew the object she had carried all day.
Cold metal pressed lightly into her palm.
She took Denisse's hand gently and turned it upward.
For a brief second, Denisse simply stared at her, confusion flickering in her eyes.
Then Lesley placed the key into her palm.
The metal landed with a small, solid weight.
Denisse looked down.
A car key.
Not just any key.
The emblem caught the lobby lights, polished and unmistakable.
Lesley released her hand.
"Have a safe ride home," she said quietly.
Her voice was calm, steady, almost casual.
But the meaning behind the gesture was anything but.
Denver had stepped halfway out of the car now.
From the corner of her vision, Lesley saw him pause beside the open driver's door, his expression briefly caught between confusion and surprise.
He hadn't expected that.
Gigi looked between them, completely stunned.
Denisse still hadn't moved.
Her fingers slowly curled around the key, as if she was only beginning to realize what had just happened.
Lesley stepped back.
The moment ended as quickly as it had begun.
She turned without waiting for a response.
The cool night air brushed against her face as she walked toward the motorcycle parked a short distance from the entrance. Ralph stood nearby, leaning against a pillar with his usual quiet patience.
Lesley picked up her helmet from the seat and slipped it on with practiced ease.
Lifting a hand, she gave a small gesture to Ralph, silently asking him to help Denisse with the car. Ralph straightened from the pillar, giving a brief nod of understanding before turning his attention toward Denisse, ready to assist.
Behind her, the silence stretched.
She didn't need to turn around to imagine their faces.
The engine roared to life beneath her hands, the deep vibration breaking the stillness of the street.
Only then did she glance at the mirror.
In the reflection, Denver and Gigi stood outside the car, both staring toward Denisse.
Denisse remained beside the passenger door.
Still holding the key.
Still unmoving.
Denver had come to drive her home.
Lesley had just made sure he wouldn't.
She shifted her gaze forward, twisted the throttle, and the motorcycle surged into the night.