The office was nearly empty by 8:00 PM. The usual clatter of keyboards and phones had died down, replaced by the soft hum of distant city traffic and the occasional flicker of fluorescent lights. Most employees had gone home. But not Camilla Hart.
She sat at her desk just outside Dominic Blake's office, sipping on a lukewarm latte and reviewing tomorrow's meeting agenda for the fifth time. She told herself she was being thorough—not avoiding going home to her too-quiet apartment.
Behind her, the CEO's door remained cracked open. She could hear the rhythmic sound of his typing.
She considered leaving for the night. But something told her to wait.
Just as she reached for her bag, Dominic's voice called out.
"Still here?"
Camilla turned. "That depends. Do you need anything?"
He stepped into the hallway, the top buttons of his shirt undone, suit jacket slung over one shoulder. "Come in for a second."
She hesitated, then followed him in, closing the door behind her.
Dominic leaned against the edge of his desk, hands in his pockets. "You don't strike me as someone who stays late unless there's a reason."
"I could say the same to you," she replied, mirroring his stance near the window. "Don't you have somewhere better to be?"
He gave a small shrug. "I don't do 'better.' I do business."
She raised an eyebrow. "You sound like a villain in a Netflix drama."
That earned her a smirk. "I'll take that as a compliment."
Camilla's gaze drifted around the office. Everything about it screamed control—minimalist design, sharp edges, carefully organized shelves.
"I bet even your chaos is alphabetized," she muttered.
Dominic tilted his head. "You're not intimidated by me."
She looked him dead in the eye. "Should I be?"
"No." His voice dropped. "But most people are."
Camilla's breath caught. The air between them thickened.
"I don't scare easy," she said.
He stepped closer. "I've noticed."
They stood in silence for a long beat, the city lights casting reflections across the polished floor. The tension between them wasn't just professional anymore. It was something else—something more dangerous.
She cleared her throat. "You called me in here to talk about work?"
A pause.
"Yes," he lied.
Camilla narrowed her eyes. "Right. What's the topic, boss?"
Dominic straightened. "There's a dinner with the Salerno executives next Friday. You'll be attending."
She blinked. "Me? Why?"
"Because I trust your judgment. And you're good at reading people."
Camilla raised an eyebrow. "And I'm the only one who'll stop you from turning dinner into a hostile negotiation?"
A hint of a smile. "Exactly."
She nodded slowly. "Alright. But I'm picking the restaurant."
"You don't even know what kind of food they like."
She grinned. "Doesn't matter. I'll choose something too classy for them to complain about."
Dominic gave a soft chuckle—a real one this time. It startled her. He had a laugh. A good one, at that.
"I didn't hire you to charm the room," he said.
"No," she replied. "But I'm good at it anyway."
The Next Morning
Camilla was already at her desk when Dominic arrived the next day. He paused when he saw her.
"You beat me," he said, mildly impressed.
"I wanted to leave before you did too, but someone kept making their office interesting."
He said nothing, but his lips twitched.
She stood and handed him a folder. "Meeting with legal at ten. You're signing off on the new non-disclosure policy."
"Remind me to tweak the clause about interoffice relationships."
Camilla raised her eyebrows. "Expecting a scandal?"
Dominic looked at her meaningfully. "Planning to start one?"
She ignored the flutter in her chest and smiled sweetly. "Don't flatter yourself."
He moved past her, but not before she saw the ghost of amusement in his eyes.
Lunch Break Intrusion
Camilla sat alone in the break room later that day, scrolling through her phone while nibbling a granola bar. It wasn't glamorous, but it was fuel.
She was mid-bite when Dominic walked in, holding a half-eaten apple and looking strangely out of place in the common space.
"You do know there's food in my office," he said, sitting across from her.
"You mean the untouched charcuterie tray your assistant keeps restocking? No thanks. I like food that has flavor."
He held up his apple. "This has flavor."
She raised an eyebrow. "That's a lie and you know it."
A moment passed in companionable silence before he asked, "Do you like it here?"
Camilla blinked. "At Blake Industries?"
"No, in the break room," he deadpanned.
She rolled her eyes. "Smartass."
He tilted his head. "That's not an answer."
She considered it for a moment. "Honestly? Yeah. It's intense. But I like being somewhere I'm underestimated. Makes proving myself more satisfying."
Dominic looked at her with something close to admiration. "You're not what I expected."
"And you're exactly what I expected," she replied. "But I think there's more to you than the perfect suit and scary stare."
A flash of surprise crossed his face before he masked it.
"Back to work," he said abruptly, standing up and tossing his apple core into the bin.
As he walked away, Camilla smirked to herself.
He's cracked.
End of the Day
By six, Camilla was organizing her files when Dominic stepped out of his office.
"I'm heading out."
"World ending early tonight?" she teased.
"Dinner meeting," he said. "With investors. Want to join me?"
Her hands paused over the keyboard. "As in...a date?"
"As in, I value your input."
Camilla stared. "That's almost polite."
He held the elevator door open. "Coming?"
She considered it—then grabbed her bag.
"Only if I get dessert."
He smiled, just enough to weaken her knees. "Only if you behave."
"Then I guess I'm going hungry," she quipped, stepping in beside him.
As the elevator doors closed, neither of them looked away.