Xavier
He was too damn charming.
Travis Jacobs. Marketing executive, smooth-talker, natural-born people magnet. Xavier had seen a hundred men like him before — the type who glided into a room and made everyone lean in closer without even trying. Normally, Xavier wouldn't waste a second thought on him.
But today, he did.
Today, he cared.
More than he wanted to admit.
He stood by the floor-to-ceiling window of his office long after Khloe and Travis had left for lunch. The city sprawled beneath him, restless and glittering even in the afternoon light. Cars streamed by in orderly chaos, a rhythm he usually found grounding. But his focus refused to hold.
Instead, all he saw was the way she had smiled when Travis walked in.
Not the polite, professional smile she gave coworkers. Not the warm-but-distant smile reserved for clients. This one was softer. Familiar. The kind of smile that belonged to history.
And then — that hug.
Xavier's jaw tensed at the memory. Travis had wrapped her in his arms like he'd done it a hundred times before. Like it was natural. And she had let him. Smiled through it.
Xavier loosened his tie, irritation prickling beneath his skin.
He wasn't angry. Not exactly.
Frustrated? Yes.
Distracted? Absolutely.
Jealous?
He scoffed aloud, shaking his head as if the sound alone could cut through the thought.
"No. Don't be ridiculous."
But the words were sour on his tongue. Lies, and he knew it.
He had rules. Firm ones. Lines he didn't cross. And when he told her yesterday that things between them were strictly professional, he had meant it. He always meant it. Relationships in the workplace blurred boundaries, complicated hierarchies. He had worked too damn hard, built his company brick by brick, sacrificed too much, to let something as unpredictable as emotion undo it.
But then came Khloe.
Bright, resilient, quietly bold Khloe — with her sunflower fascination, soft laughter, and eyes that saw through him in ways no one else ever had. She didn't just take space in his office; she took space in his thoughts, in his focus, in places of him that he'd kept locked away for years.
And now she was out to lunch with another man. A man who had known her before him. A man who could make her laugh without trying.
Xavier exhaled sharply and rubbed his temple.
"This is nothing," he muttered under his breath. "Just irritation. Workplace distraction. It'll pass."
But the thought gnawed at him. Because beneath the irritation, something sharper whispered:
Then why does it feel like you're losing something that was never even yours?
---
Khloe
Lunch with Travis felt like flipping through an old photo album I hadn't opened in years.
We ended up at a small corner café not far from the office — one with chipped wooden tables, ivy crawling along the outside brick, and the faint hum of jazz playing through tired speakers. It hadn't changed much since our university days. Neither had Travis, at least not entirely.
He still carried the same smirk, still teased in the same easy rhythm. But there was something sharper about him now. More focused. Like the boy who had once joked his way through study sessions had finally grown into a man who knew exactly how to command a room.
And, of course, he hadn't lost the charm.
"So, spill," he said, biting into his chicken wrap with casual confidence. "What's it like working with Mr. Xavier the Untouchable?"
I nearly choked on my juice. "I'm sorry, what?"
"You heard me." He grinned. "The man's practically a Greek statue — carved jawline, cold stare, emotionally unavailable energy. It's a brand."
I laughed despite myself. "You've been in the office for what — five minutes? And you already came up with that?"
"Hey, great branding is instant," he said, pointing his fork at me. "Besides, it fits. Tell me I'm wrong."
I shook my head, trying not to smile. "He's not that bad."
"Oh?" Travis leaned forward, eyebrow raised. "Interesting. I expected you to say 'absolutely unbearable.' But your tone says otherwise."
I gave him a look. "It's complicated."
"Ahhh." He sat back, folding his arms like he'd just won something. "So there are feelings involved."
I stiffened. "I didn't say that."
"You didn't have to. You always blink when you're caught."
"I do not."
"You just did," he said, grinning wide. "Girl, what happened?"
Heat crept up my neck. I set my fork down, defeated. "I told him how I felt yesterday."
Travis's brows shot up. "Whoa. You confessed? Straight up?"
I nodded, staring at my untouched salad. "I thought… maybe he felt something too. But he turned me down. Politely. Said everything was professional."
Travis winced. "Ouch."
"Yeah."
Silence settled for a moment, broken only by the clink of cutlery from the next table. I pushed lettuce around my plate, trying not to feel the sting all over again.
Then, as if sensing the heaviness, Travis smirked. "And then he gave you a sunflower keychain?"
My head snapped up. "How'd you—?"
He nodded at my bag. "I saw the edge sticking out. Same flower you used to doodle on your notebooks in class. He knows what it means to you."
I froze, fingers brushing against the small trinket as if to confirm it was still there.
Travis tilted his head, eyes narrowing with that same playful sharpness that used to catch me in lies years ago. "He might've shut you down yesterday, but Khloe… I've seen enough people dance around their feelings to recognize the rhythm. That man is trying not to fall. Hard."
I didn't know what to say. I didn't even know what to think.
Because as much as I wanted to deny it, the memory of Xavier's eyes on me — the hesitation, the tension, the way his voice had faltered for half a second — wouldn't leave me.
And maybe Travis was right. Maybe Xavier was playing a denial game neither of us knew how to win.
But one thing was certain.
Lunch wasn't the only thing about to get complicated.