Chapter two

Alexander POV

Brandon didn’t even say thank you.

Not that I expected him to. That would require acknowledging me as a person and not a highly evolved, coffee-fetching to-do list with legs.

I hovered near the door of his office for a second, debating whether I should remind him about his ten o’clock meeting with the board. But he was already back to typing, jaw tight, brows drawn together in that way that made me think he was either solving world hunger or composing a strongly worded email.

Probably the latter. Brandon Cole didn’t do hunger. He barely did lunch. I was ninety percent sure he photosynthesized stress.

I stepped out and let the door close behind me, leaning against the wall with a sigh. Six weeks in and I still hadn’t figured out how someone could be so… intense all the time. It was like working for a thunderstorm in a designer suit.

But that wasn’t the only problem but the fact I find him so fucking hot and irresistible still bothers me.

I pulled out my phone to check the schedule for the day. Back-to-back meetings. A call with the Tokyo branch. Lunch with a potential investor—scratch that, lunch to be picked up by me and eaten by Brandon at his desk while scowling at quarterly projections.

At least it gave me something to do.

I passed Mia on my way to my desk. She raised an eyebrow in that familiar, questioning way.

“He drank the coffee,” I said.

“No complaints?”.

“Just one word. ‘Acceptable.’ I’m thinking of getting it embroidered on a pillow.”

She snorted. “Sounds like high praise, coming from him.”

“You know, I used to think I had thick skin,” I said, dropping into my chair. “Now I’m not so sure.”

“You’ve lasted longer than any of the others. That’s saying something.”

“Yeah, but at what cost?”

She gave me a knowing look. “It’s not just the paycheck, is it?”.

I blinked. “What do you mean?”

She smirked. “Come on, Alex. You think we haven’t noticed? You get all pink around the ears when he’s in the room.”

I rubbed the back of my neck, suddenly way too warm. “I do not.”

“You do. It’s cute.”

“I’m not cute.”

“Sure,” she said with a grin. “Tell that to your face when you stare at him like he hung the moon.”

“I do not stare,” I lied.

Okay, maybe I did. But it wasn’t my fault he looked like a Calvin Klein model possessed by a tax audit.

I cleared my throat and focused on my monitor, pretending to check the boardroom calendar. “He’s my boss. That’s it. It’s not a thing.”

“Sure,” Mia repeated, voice thick with disbelief.

The thing was… it wasn’t a thing. At least not to Brandon. He barely looked at me unless I messed something up. Or unless he needed coffee. Or needed me to stay late again and organize his notes because he didn’t believe in digital filing systems.

But even when he was looking at me, it didn’t mean anything. There was no flicker of interest in his eyes, no change in tone, no secret glances.

If anything, I probably bored him.

Still, when I caught my reflection in the darkened monitor, I adjusted my collar.

Just in case.

The rest of the morning was a blur of calendar adjustments, email sorting, rescheduling the Legal meeting for the third time, and coordinating a surprise delivery of Brandon’s favorite overpriced protein bars. The man had a diet that made astronauts look indulgent.

At noon sharp, I headed down to pick up his lunch—grilled salmon, steamed vegetables, no oil, no salt, no soul—and brought it back up with a plastic fork and a bottle of water.

I knocked once on his door, then stepped inside.

He didn’t look up. “Put it on the table.”

I did. “You should try chewing gum sometime. Just for fun. Might be the only seasoning in your life.”

Still no smile. Just the faintest narrowing of his eyes.

“I don’t pay you to critique my diet.”

“You don’t pay me enough to suffer in silence,” I shot back.

Oh shit! I said that out loud, didn’t I? Is this how I’m gonna get fired? Six week all for nothing?!

That made him pause.

Only for a second. But I saw it—something in his expression that flickered, barely there, before it vanished again like a ghost.

He didn’t say anything after that. Just turned back to his screen and resumed typing.

I left the room and quietly closed the door, heart doing something stupid in my chest.

It was nothing. Probably just indigestion.

Or wishful thinking.

Maybe both.

By the time five o’clock rolled around, the office had started to empty. Mia waved goodbye as she left, but I was still at my desk, triple-checking the travel itinerary for Brandon’s trip next week. I didn’t even hear him approach until his voice startled me out of my spreadsheet-induced coma.

“You’re still here.”

I jumped a little, quickly minimizing the screen. “Uh, yeah. Just wanted to finish the logistics for next week.”

He studied me for a moment. “You don’t have to stay late.”

“Someone has to make sure your schedule doesn’t implode.”

His lips twitched.

Not quite a smile, but… a shift.

Something.

“You’re competent,” he said finally.

That might’ve been the nicest thing he’d ever said to me.

“Thanks,” I replied, my voice coming out a little too soft. “I try.”

Another beat passed.

“Go home, Kingsley.”

I nodded, gathered my things, and left his office.

As I rode the elevator down, I caught myself glancing at my reflection again. Do I not look good enough?

Still not a thing.

But maybe…