I hadn't heard anything about Trish in three weeks—and honestly? It was a godsend. No drama, no headlines, no whispers about her latest scheme. Things had finally settled down.
Aaron and I hadn't seen each other in a week, unless you count the brief kisses we stole when no one was around. He was out of town for a few days—some conference in Europe—and in the meantime, I was playing boss. Answering calls, managing schedules, pretending I wasn't teetering on the edge of burnout.
One morning, just after I'd settled into my desk, Ryan walked in with a stranger in tow. The guy had a briefcase in one hand, folders in the other, and an aura that screamed
"Ryan," I said flatly, flipping through my planner, "this isn't a lawyer, is it? Mr. Simmons said no legal meetings until he's back."
Ryan shut the door and gave me a sheepish smile. "Relax. This is Nate. He's here on an internship from California."
I scanned the day's schedule. No anywhere. "Are you sure that's today? Because I don't see his name—"
"I have the email from Mr. Simmons confirming everything," Nate interrupted, his voice unexpectedly deep.
I looked up—and froze.
Nate had . Messy black hair, tattoos snaking down both arms, and a Rolling Stones tee that looked like it had survived a mosh pit. His eyes were dark, intense, and annoyingly unreadable.
"So," he said with a lazy smirk, "first week working here?"
I stood, casually walked over, and stopped just short of his space. "I'll say this once: you will respect me, or you'll be out on 5th Avenue begging for spare change. Got it, asshole?"
The smirk disappeared. He ran a hand through his hair, nodding. Didn't even meet my eyes.
"Ryan," I said sharply, "he can shadow . I'll let Mr. Simmons know you're taking on extra responsibilities."
Ryan winced. "Actually… he's shadowing ."
And then he was gone.
Nate dropped into the chair across from me like he owned it, flipping through a few of my papers. "Here's what I need from you: go sit by that plant and pretend you're it. Silent. Still."
I blinked once. Then handed him a stack of papers.
"Sort these by date and file them in the cabinet down the hall. Don't mix up the invoices or I make your internship a living hell."
He raised an eyebrow but stood, heading out without another word.
By lunch, I'd swept my hair into a ponytail, slipped on my heels, and grabbed my purse. Nate watched me with a weirdly thoughtful expression.
"Lunch break's an hour and a half. Go eat. Just be back when it's over," I said as I left.
Passing him, I noticed he was even taller than I thought. Towered over me—even in heels.
Aaron still hadn't called. No text. Nothing. I shoved my phone into a drawer and turned it off. If he wanted space, he could have all the space in the world.
Fifteen minutes before the end of the day, Ryan popped his head into my office, already in his coat and clutching his briefcase.
"We're heading to Thursdays down the street. You coming?"
I sighed. "Sure. Why not?"
Of course, Ryan invited Nate too. Suddenly I was squished in an elevator with half the office, everyone buzzing with post-work energy and desperate for cocktails.
At the bar, I ordered a Coke and found a seat, watching coworkers grind and flirt on the dance floor like it was spring break in business casual. Nate sat beside me, sipping a pina colada of all things, surveying the chaos like he was watching a nature documentary.
"Is this what y'all usually do after work?" he asked.
I glanced at Ryan, now grinding on a guy in a tight sweater. "Not really. I'm just here to make sure no one drives home drunk."
Nate said nothing. Just smiled like he knew something I didn't.
Then Ryan appeared out of nowhere, shot glass in hand.
"Loosen up, Alaina! Aaron's not here. Go wild!"
Before I could protest, he tipped the shot into my mouth. Whatever it was hit me like a freight train.
I was on the dance floor a minute later, wild with Katelyn, both of us spinning and jumping like our pencil skirts were rave gear. I didn't care. I was laughing too hard to stop.
Eventually, I stumbled off the floor, breathless and buzzing. Nate clapped slowly from the bar, clearly amused.
"Wow," he said, grinning. "That was... very entertaining."
"Glad I could provide a show." I smirked. "Now I've gotta get home."
I fished out my phone to call a cab.
"Later, Intern," I called, heading for the door.
"IT'S " he shouted behind me, barely audible over the thumping bass.
I just threw a thumbs-up in the air.
As annoying as he was... I didn't really mind the attention.