The following morning, Olivia arrived at the venue early, a leather-bound folder pressed against her chest and her laptop bag hanging from her shoulder. She had always been an early riser, but now, with fashion week so close, her nerves pushed her to reach earlier than anyone else. The faint hum of construction machines, the sound of workers adjusting light rigs, and the subtle scent of freshly painted wood filled the air as she stepped into the hall that would soon host their most important runway show.
The vast venue stretched out before her, half-finished but promising. Workers hammered away at the runway, while decorators climbed up ladders to adjust drapes that shimmered like silk under the lights. Olivia inhaled deeply, allowing the faint adrenaline buzz in her veins to settle. She was finally at the stage of overseeing details instead of running in chaos, and that felt like a victory in itself.
Grace joined her not long after, holding a clipboard and panting lightly as if she'd run across the street.
"Morning, Olivia. You're here already?"
"Of course." Olivia smiled faintly, though her eyes stayed fixed on the runway. "We don't have much time left. Everything has to be perfect."
Grace followed her gaze, nodding. "It's coming together, though. Yesterday, the decorators were still panicking about the stage width, but it looks like they fixed it."
"Good," Olivia said firmly, flipping open her folder. "Today, we'll check the runway's stability, the photo backdrop, and the main lighting sequence. After that, I want to see the area for the press."
Grace scribbled notes as fast as she could, then glanced around. "Do you think Mr. Ashford will come today?"
"He will," Olivia answered simply, though a tiny smile tugged her lips. "He wouldn't miss the final inspection."
Sure enough, by mid-morning, Aiden arrived. Unlike the workers in dusty clothes, he looked perfectly sharp in his suit, his presence commanding the attention of everyone in the room the moment he stepped in. His eyes swept across the stage and then settled on Olivia, who stood at the center, giving instructions to a technician about the lighting angles.
He approached, his voice low but steady. "How's it looking?"
Olivia turned to him, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. "Better than yesterday. But I'm not signing off until I walk that runway myself."
Aiden chuckled softly at her determination. "I'd pay to see that."
She shot him a look. "Careful, Mr.Ashford. I just might make you walk it too."
That made Grace nearly choke on her laughter, but she quickly hid it behind her clipboard when Aiden's sharp eyes flicked her way. Olivia, however, caught it, and the corner of her mouth lifted in secret amusement.
For the next few hours, Olivia walked the runway in her heels, testing its sturdiness. She pointed out uneven spots, checked where the models would turn, and made sure the lighting reflected just right. The backdrop for the press was still missing some banners, so she noted it for correction.
By noon, she was drained but satisfied. They gathered in the lounge area to take a short break. Workers moved in and out, bringing bottled water and small trays of snacks for the staff. Olivia sat with Grace, sipping water while reviewing tomorrow's schedule.
Aiden joined them after speaking with one of the stage managers. He pulled out a chair next to Olivia and leaned back casually, loosening his tie just a little. "You really don't rest, do you?"
Olivia arched a brow. "Neither do you. Don't start pretending to be the voice of reason now."
He smirked, shaking his head. "Fair. But you're running on fumes. If you collapse before fashion week, I'll have a disaster on my hands."
She didn't respond right away. Instead, she tapped her pen against the folder, then finally glanced up at him. "Don't worry. I don't collapse."
There was a quiet conviction in her voice that made Aiden's expression soften. For a moment, he didn't see the assistant who tirelessly kept everything together; he saw a woman carrying a weight no one else seemed willing to shoulder.
That evening, once everything was settled at the venue, they both returned to the office. Olivia gathered the last set of documents for the day and was about to pack up when she remembered her promise from yesterday.
She walked to Aiden's office, knocking lightly. He looked up from his desk, his brows lifting slightly at the sight of her.
"Done?" he asked.
"Yes," she replied. "And since you survived the runway inspection without complaining, I'll take you to another place I like."
Aiden's lips curved into a rare smile. "Two of your favorite places in a row? I must be special."
Olivia rolled her eyes but didn't deny it. "Come on. Let's go before I change my mind."
This time, she drove them to a cozy Japanese restaurant tucked into a quiet street. It wasn't as flashy as the ones Aiden usually frequented, but the warm glow of lanterns outside and the inviting scent wafting through the air made it clear why Olivia liked it.
They were guided to a small table by the window. As soon as Olivia opened the menu, her eyes brightened. "You have to try the tonkatsu here. It's the crispiest I've ever had."
Aiden raised a brow. "Tonkatsu?"
"Breaded pork cutlet," she explained patiently. "Trust me, you'll like it."
When the food arrived, Olivia dug in with an eagerness Aiden rarely saw from her at the office. She picked up a piece with her chopsticks, dipped it lightly into the sauce, and then looked at him expectantly. "Here, try this."
For a moment, Aiden hesitated, staring at her like he wasn't sure how to react to being fed such a simple dish with so much enthusiasm. Then he finally took a piece, biting into it. The crunch gave way to tender meat, and the flavor burst pleasantly on his tongue.
His brows lifted in surprise. "That's… actually really good."
Olivia smirked. "Told you."
They spent the meal talking about the upcoming fashion week—what still needed to be done, the kind of attention the show might attract, and how stressful the next few days would be. But somewhere between bites of tonkatsu and bowls of miso soup, their conversation slipped into lighter territory.
Olivia teased him about his picky eating habits, and Aiden countered by pointing out how she scolded everyone at the office, yet still couldn't resist pouting when her brother flicked her forehead. She flushed at that, quickly changing the subject, but he didn't miss the way her lips twitched.
For the first time in a long while, Olivia felt like she wasn't just carrying a mountain of responsibility on her shoulders—she was sharing a meal with someone who, despite his flaws, understood the pressure she was under.