The office smelled faintly of coffee and fresh paper. Olivia slipped into her desk seat, setting her coat over the back of her chair. Her heartbeat had finally slowed, but the stranger's face still lingered in her mind—those gray eyes, unyielding and unreadable.
You're being ridiculous, she told herself. It was just a stranger on the street. People look at people all the time.
She forced her focus onto the day's reports, fingers tapping against the keyboard. The hum of conversation and the clink of coffee cups filled the air—until a shadow fell across her desk.
"Olivia Martins?"
She looked up.
And froze.
He was there. The man from the street.
Up close, he was even more striking—tall, effortlessly poised, his tailored suit fitting him like it had been sewn for no one else. The faintest trace of cologne reached her, crisp and expensive.
"Y-Yes?" she managed, her voice steadier than she felt.
His gaze held hers, unblinking. "I'm looking for the department head. But you…" His eyes flickered, almost curious. "You looked like you'd seen a ghost this morning."
Olivia's stomach tightened. "I—must have mistaken you for someone else."
A hint of a smirk curved his lips, as though he didn't believe her for a second. "I'm Raymond greg." The name rolled off his tongue like it carried weight. "And I have a feeling I'll be seeing you again, Miss Martins."
Without another word, he turned and walked toward her manager's office, leaving behind a trail of questions—and the unsettling knowledge that she wasn't imagining his interest.
For the rest of the day, Olivia couldn't shake the feeling that her life had just shifted, even if she didn't know in which direction yet.