Page 22 of Babies for the Big Shot

Not far.

But far enough.

Close enough that I can feel his breath on my cheek, warm and quiet and way too full of memory.

I lean back, but not far enough.

Our eyes lock.

Nothing happens.

But everything happens.

The moment stretches, tight, bright, charged, heat humming in the space between us, sharp enough to cut.

Then… he clears his throat. Takes a small step back. Adjusts a paper on the desk with sudden, surgical precision, as if control is something he can summon with his fingertips.

My lungs seize before unlocking, air dragging in rough and shaky, too loud in the silence.

“Well,” I say, voice wobbly. “That was… informative.”

He glances at me, all calm composure, but his eyes betray him.

They’re not calm.

Not even close.

“Let me know if you need anything else,” he says.

“Sure,” I say, somehow managing to move my legs toward the door. “I’ll just… go breathe oxygen somewhere else now.”

I don’t look back.

Because if I do, I’m not sure I’ll leave at all.

Thank God the day is over and I canfinallyleave this nightmare.

My brain is mush. My libido is a traitor. And my self control is hanging by a thread made of recycled Post-it notes and shame.

The lobby is quiet, the late summer sun casting gold across the marble floors. I’m halfway to the exit when someone steps in my path.

“Oops… sorry!” I say, nearly colliding with her.

She’s striking. Tall, glossy dark hair, tailored ivory coat over a green silk dress that probably costs more than my monthly rent. She doesn’t move right away. Just looks at me with a small, strange smile.

“Not your fault,” she says smoothly, her eyes skimming over me with clinical precision. Not rude. Just measured. Calculated. Cataloging details she has no business knowing but clocks anyway.

She cocks her head. “You’re new here, aren’t you?”

I blink. “Uh… yeah.”

She hums, a sound too knowing for the silence that follows. “Well. Enjoy your evening.”

Then she turns and walks toward the elevators, leaving something unspoken hanging in the air between us.

Weird. But not alarmingly so.

I shake it off. Probably someone from upper management. Or legal. Or HR. Or a very judgmental ghost.