I woke up ready for work — had breakfast, took my bath, slipped into my workwear, slung my bag over my shoulder, and headed straight for the office. As I stood outside the tall glass doors, I paused and took a deep breath.
"Khloe, you can do this," I whispered to myself, squaring my shoulders.
Inside, the morning hum of the building greeted me — phones ringing, heels clicking, printers spitting out pages of deadlines and deals. The receptionist, always cheerful, looked up from her desk.
"Good morning," I said, trying to sound casual.
"Good morning, Miss Assistant. Someone's in a good mood," she replied with a knowing smile.
I smiled back, though my stomach was a storm of nerves. It wasn't the job. It was Xavier.
For the past few weeks, he had been… different. Not in a bad way. Thoughtful. Attentive. Sweet in the smallest, most subtle ways. Coffee on my desk just the way I liked it — two sugars, no cream. Sticky notes with quick little reminders in his sharp handwriting — and the occasional "Don't forget to eat lunch today" tucked between schedule memos. Last Friday, when I mentioned casually that I liked sunflowers, I found a single sunflower waiting on my desk that Monday morning.
It wasn't just the gestures. It was the way he looked at me during meetings — eyes lingering, softening. The way his voice dropped when he said my name. Or how he always waited for me to leave the office together, even when his day should have ended hours before mine.
I couldn't keep overanalyzing it in my head. It was driving me crazy.
Today… today I needed answers. I needed to know if he felt something too — or if I was simply reading between lines that didn't exist.
I walked through the office hallways, heart pounding harder with every step. The elevator ride to the top floor felt like it lasted forever. When the doors opened to the executive wing, I stepped out, took another deep breath, and headed toward his office.
His door was ajar.
He sat behind his desk, typing something intently. The morning sun filtered through the blinds behind him, casting golden stripes across his crisp white shirt. He looked up the moment he sensed me at the door, and a small smile crept onto his face — that smile that always made my thoughts scatter.
"Khloe," he said, standing. "Come in."
My voice caught for a second. This was it. My moment.
"Hey… Xavier," I started, stepping inside and closing the door gently behind me. I held onto the strap of my bag like it was a lifeline. "Can we talk?"