Page 8

Lark

Five years later…

Maybe I should be nervous, but as I adjust the cuff of my dark suit, I’m feeling nothing but confident.

I push the frosted glass door open and a waft of polished marble and wealth greets me. The air is cool against my skin, refreshing after being in the summer heat of the city. I step onto the gleaming marble floor, the click of my shoes echoing in the vast open space.

“Mr. Carlyle ?” A receptionist looks up, her voice dainty.

“Yes. I’m here for the two PM appointment.” Of course, she knows that – there’s no way I’d get into this building otherwise.

“Right this way.” She gestures toward the corridor lined with towering potted ferns that sway ever so slightly from the air conditioning vent above. The other wall is glass, overlooking the city below.

The office is a maze of modern artistry, walls adorned with abstract paintings swirling like smoke, but touching some primal part of me deep within. I pass sculptures that twist into impossible shapes, metal glinting under the subtle overhead lighting. It's like walking through an upscale gallery where every piece feels like it costs more than an average person’s yearly income.

I’m stopped by another receptionist, who points to a sleek black sofa beside a low-set coffee table stacked with tech magazines. “Please, have a seat.”

I nod my thanks and sit, taking in the atmosphere of my surroundings. The room smells faintly of some relaxing combination of juniper and a hint of something floral, probably from a hidden scent diffuser meant to relax people. It's working.

“Miss Mills will see you shortly.”

“Thank you,” I say, but she's already gliding back to the other side of her desk.

I'm alone again, surrounded by wealth and ambition. The silence gives me too much time to think, to anticipate what comes next. So instead, I focus on the details around me—the way each plant is meticulously pruned, the absence of dust on any surface, the soft hum of the air conditioning blending seamlessly with the stillness.

This is where I belong. And I’m going to make sure they know that fact by the end of this interview. There’s no reason they wouldn’t hire me. In fact, it would be stupid of them not to hire me.

“Mr. Lark?”

I stand, turning to face the voice, ready to earn my place and make my mark.

Confidence surges through me as I follow the receptionist. Her heels click on the marble floor and the scent of her perfume seems upscale, just like her silk shirt and dark, pencil skirt. The office oozes wealth and success, and I can already imagine my name etched into the legacy of this company. I know tech; and innovation has been the cornerstone of my climb from the bottom. This job is mine.

I’m led into an empty room, and the receptionist nods her head at me before leaving the room.

I wander, looking at huge paintings on canvas, taking in the blue, gold, white swirls that remind me of the ocean. It reminds me of five years ago, on a specific beach with an incredible woman. But those memories have no place here. Still, no matter how hard I’ve tried to banish them over the years, I’ve failed every single time.

“Mr. Carlyle ?” I recognize that voice the moment I hear it, and the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

I pivot on my heel. Time seems to grind to a halt. It's her. Lara. The woman who's haunted my thoughts and dreams for the past five years, no matter how hard I’ve tried to forget her.

“Miss Mills.” My voice is steady, but my heart? It’s beating like mad. I feel woozy, as if I might fall down, like the time I’d been stabbed in a deal gone wrong and lost a lot of blood. It’s that same disorientating sensation that I’m fighting against now. Only this time, I’m not at a real risk of dying. I think.

She hasn't aged a day. If anything, she looks more radiant, more... formidable. That same energy crackles between us as if the passing of time has done nothing to dim the desire between us. Her sandy hair is pulled into a sleek bun, and her professional dress has me drooling as much as those cute sundresses had. And her legs… this woman and her thighs could destroy me in the best way possible.

“Mr. Carlyle, you’re staring.” The amusement in her voice matches the sparkle in her eyes, and I lift both shoulders.

“I feel like I’ve seen a ghost,” I say, and the words aren’t a lie. She’s a ghost of my past I thought I’d never see again, outside my dreams and memories.

Her gaze sweeps my face, then my body, and come back to my eyes with an almost intimidating coolness. “Do I need to cross you off the list?” she asks, arching a single eyebrow in a silent challenge that demands I forget the past – or at least, never bring it up again – and I swallow hard.

I need this job. I want this job. This is my dream position in an up-and-coming company that’ll be a springboard to opening up my own tech company – in a non-competing area, of course.

So, I shove down the memories of our wild nights together and what I know she looks like under that dress, and nod. “No need to cross me off the list.”

She nods, a victorious gleam in those striking eyes. “Then please, come,” she says, her tone all business. But the words… they leave my body confused and hard, ready for her. I remember asking her to do the same, without the please .

“Of course.” I follow her. What are the odds that she’d be the one hiring? What are the odds I’d wind up at her company after all these years of being apart? And why do I still feel the exact same tug toward her that I did then?

We enter her office, and I have no answers for any of the questions that fill my thoughts. Plants line one wall; the other are floor to ceiling windows that show the city from high above the streets. The marble underfoot gleams, and the wainscoting adds texture and an unexpected rich depth to the space.

But as beautiful as her office is, she has all of my attention. I can’t look away; she’s mesmerizing. There's strength in the way she moves, confidence in how she takes her seat behind the desk before squaring up and looking at me.

“Your resume is impressive,” Lara says, her eyes never leaving mine.

“Thank you.” I match her gaze, unwilling to back down. “I'm ready for this.”

“Good.” She nods, a single, decisive motion. “Let’s get started.”

As we dive into discussions about the position, my initial shock slowly settles into an even deeper need to land this job. Lara Mills is an unfinished chapter in my past, one I want to explore more, but this job is my future. And I'll claim it, no matter what memories stand in my way.

The silence stretches between us. Lara's eyes lock onto mine, recognition shining there as if she wants to address the past, but she's all ice and control.

Lara shifts papers on her desk. She clears her throat.

I sit across from her, the leather chair cool against my skin. My heart races but my voice is calm. I can’t help but wonder if she’s weighing the past as part of her decision, and that thought constricts my breathing like a boa constrictor. “I believe I'd be a great fit for your team.”

She gives a very slight nod. “Indeed.” A pause. “But let's get one thing straight, Mr. Carlyle .” Her gaze doesn't waver. “This is strictly professional. Nothing personal. Nothing romantic. The past stays there, understood?”

“Understood.” The word is like ash in my mouth. I expected as much, yet it still stings to be rejected, especially when I still have unfinished business with her. This isn’t how I’d hoped this would go when I learned she’s the one hiring me, but I can’t say I’m surprised. For all I know, she’s married with kids now.

But as my gaze darts to her hand, I see no ring. Not even a tan line where one would be if she’d taken it off. It’s an important detail to the plans slowly coalescing in the back of my mind.

“Good.” She exhales, then something shifts in her expression. I can only hope for the best, because we both know I’m well-qualified and if she refuses me, it’s based on the past that she just said needs to stay behind us. “You're hired.”

And just like that, my future snaps into sharp focus. Despite the romantic rejection that burns low in my gut, I sense a whole new future opening its arms to me. What now?

Stepping out onto the bustling street with skyscrapers towering above, I dial my mom's number. It rings twice before she picks up.

“It's me.” She’d asked me to call her when the interview was over and let her know how things went. And I’m honoring that request.

“Tell me everything!” Her voice is filled with hope and worry.

“I got the job,” I say, adrenaline still pumping through my veins.

“Of course, you did. Congratulations!” Her soft support and lack of surprise are just the boost I need to remind me that my trajectory these last five years has been steadily onward and up.

“Yeah, but there's a… complication.” My pace slows as I thread through the crowd walking along the sidewalk. “Lara's the boss. Lara Mills.”

“The vacation fling Lara?” Her sharp intake of breath is audible through the phone and I nod, even though she can’t see me.

“One and the same.” I stop at a crosswalk, watching the traffic lights change.

“Goodness...” Mom goes silent for a heartbeat. “Do you think... maybe the universe has plans for you two?” She sounds hopeful, but I shake my head as I walk.

A cab honks nearby, breaking to avoid rear ending an unsure driver. “I’m not really into cosmic signs, Mom.”

Besides, Lara said no romance. The memory of those words still stings like alcohol in a fresh wound, even though I know they were necessary for us to have a good, solid, working relationship. I’m not about to tell my mom that, though. I don’t need to. She knows that being professional is important to me. I have a slightly smudged past to make up for, after all. Even though she has no idea how dark that smudge is, thankfully.

“Still,” she says, a hint of wonder coloring her tone. “Life is strange.”

“Life is unpredictable,” I say, crossing the street. “But that doesn’t make coincidences some plan the universe has laid out for us. And besides, I've got plans, and none of them involve rekindling old flames.” The words sound like a lie in my ears, but that’s not a productive thought, so I ignore it.

“Alright, honey. Just be careful, okay?” The concern in her voice has me smiling. I know she’s afraid I’ll get hurt, have my heart broken, and it’s a valid concern. One I share, if I’m being honest. Lara messed me up for a long time, but that was in the past. Hopefully, it stays there.

“I always am.” With that, we say our goodbyes and hang up. I pocket my phone as the office building looms ahead once more.

My future awaits, and this time, I'm playing by my rules.