Morning sunlight filtered through the floor-to-ceiling glass windows of Knight Enterprises, bouncing off polished marble and chrome like the place had been designed by someone who hated fingerprints. The office buzzed faintly—keyboards clacking, phones ringing, the quiet hum of ambition mixed with caffeine and fear.
Lily Carter stood at her desk with her phone pressed to her ear, whispering frantically.
"Yes, twenty sandwiches. No, not all tuna. Half turkey, half veggie, and—what do you mean you're out of veggie?!" She pressed her palm to her forehead. "Okay, fine, swap them for chicken. No—wait. We've got vegetarians here. Do you have hummus wraps? Yes? Perfect. Add those. And don't forget the salad bowls—large ones, not those tiny side ones. People actually eat, you know!"
She hung up, exhaling like she'd just negotiated a peace treaty.
Melissa, the receptionist, strolled by, sipping her iced coffee like she owned the building. "You're whisper-yelling again."
"I'm not whisper-yelling," Lily said defensively. "I'm… coordinating."
Melissa raised an eyebrow. "Coordinating what? The fall of Western civilization?"
"No," Lily muttered, shuffling her sticky notes around. "A surprise team lunch. For morale."
Melissa blinked. Then laughed. "You're insane. Do you want Knight to fire you?"
Lily squared her shoulders. "Look, everyone's been working themselves to death. The investors are circling like sharks. The accountants look like they haven't seen sunlight since Y2K. And Alex—" She stopped, correcting herself quickly, "—Mr. Knight, I mean, he's scarier than usual. People need a break. A little… bonding."
Melissa smirked. "Rookie, the only bonding in this place is between people and their therapy bills."
"Well, that's about to change," Lily declared, slapping a sticky note onto her monitor for emphasis.
Melissa leaned closer, lowering her voice like she was sharing state secrets. "Just so you know, if this blows up in your face, I'm not helping you. I'll be in the corner, laughing."
"Thanks for the support," Lily deadpanned.
-------------------------
By noon, the office smelled like heaven. Or at least, like garlic bread and roasted chicken, which was close enough. Delivery bags lined Lily's desk, stacked precariously high.
"Operation Team Lunch," Lily whispered to herself, rolling up her sleeves.
She dragged the bags into the break room, setting out sandwiches, salads, chips, drinks, and—because she couldn't resist—two boxes of donuts with rainbow sprinkles.
Employees began trickling in, sniffing curiously.
"Free food?" one of the accountants asked, eyeing a turkey sandwich like it might explode.
"Yes!" Lily beamed. "Surprise! It's a team lunch! To celebrate… um… surviving Monday through Friday without crying in the bathroom!"
Several people laughed. Someone muttered, "Finally."
Within minutes, the room buzzed with chatter. People piled plates high, arguing over who took the last hummus wrap. Someone spilled soda. Someone else dropped a donut on the floor and ate it anyway.
It was chaos. Glorious chaos.
Lily grinned, proud of herself. This is working. They're laughing. They're smiling. Look at me, single-handedly boosting corporate morale.
And then—
The door opened.
Silence rippled through the room.
Alexander Knight stood in the doorway.
Tall. Immaculate suit. Eyes colder than a Siberian winter.
Every employee froze mid-bite, like children caught stealing cookies. One poor intern had half a sandwich dangling from his mouth.
Lily swallowed hard. "S-surprise?"
Alex's gaze swept the room, sharp and assessing. His jaw tightened as he took in the scene—crumbs on the counter, soda cans sweating on the table, employees laughing instead of working.
He looked at Lily last.
Her smile faltered.
"Miss Carter," he said slowly, "what is this?"
Her mouth went dry. "Um… lunch?"
-------------------------
The silence in the break room was suffocating.
A bead of sweat slid down Lily's temple as Alexander Knight's gaze pinned her like a butterfly in a display case. His voice was low, dangerously calm.
"Lunch," he repeated. "During work hours. In my building."
Someone coughed. A chip crunched. The room was a graveyard of awkwardness.
Lily's brain screamed at her to apologize, to beg for mercy, but her mouth betrayed her.
"Yes," she said brightly, forcing a smile. "Lunch! Surprise team lunch, to be exact. You know, for morale. Because happy employees are productive employees, and… and…" Her voice cracked under the weight of his stare. "Sandwiches?"
A nervous chuckle escaped from somewhere in the room. It sounded like it might've come from Jerry in Accounting, who immediately ducked his head like a turtle retreating into its shell.
Alex's jaw clenched. "Miss Carter."
"Yes, Mr. Knight?"
"Do you have any idea how much time this is wasting?"
"Well," Lily said carefully, "technically, lunch is a mandatory human need. And morale is scientifically proven to increase productivity, which means this is actually—uh—a long-term investment in efficiency!"
Her words tumbled out so fast they nearly tripped over each other. She knew she sounded ridiculous, but panic was a powerful drug.
Another nervous laugh echoed. The employees were trying not to smile, which only made them look guiltier.
Alex's eyes narrowed. "An investment."
"Yes," Lily squeaked. "An… investment in happiness."
For one terrifying moment, she thought he might explode. His shoulders stiffened, his expression glacial.
Then a voice spoke from the doorway.
"Well, well. What do we have here?"
-------------------------
Two men in tailored suits entered, followed by a woman in a crimson dress that screamed old money. Investors.
The room froze for a second time.
Sebastian Brooks strolled in behind them, perfectly timed, smile sharp enough to cut glass.
"Knight," he said smoothly. "I didn't expect to walk in on a… party." His gaze flicked to Lily, amusement glinting. "How very… unconventional."
Lily wanted to crawl under the table and die.
But then one of the investors chuckled. "This is marvelous. We always say the corporate world is too stiff, too cold. It's refreshing to see a CEO who values his people's morale."
Lily's jaw dropped. Wait. What?!
Another investor nodded approvingly. "Yes, yes. Team lunches, breaking the ice, keeping your workforce bonded—it's brilliant. Most executives forget that employees are human beings."
Sebastian's smile faltered for just a fraction of a second.
Alex, to his credit, didn't blink. His poker face was iron-clad. But his hand flexed at his side, like he was suppressing the urge to strangle someone.
"Yes," he said evenly. "Of course. At Knight Enterprises, we value unity."
Unity. Lily almost choked on her own tongue.
The investors looked around, smiling at the staff as though the spilled soda and donut crumbs were symbols of innovation.
"This is exactly the kind of culture we want to invest in," the woman in red declared.
Lily nearly fainted.
-------------------------
Encouraged by the investors' reaction, the employees began to relax. Conversations restarted. Laughter bubbled. Someone turned on the radio quietly in the background.
Lily, desperate to ride the wave of accidental success, grabbed a tray of donuts and offered them around. "Would you like one? They're rainbow sprinkles—very morale-boosting."
The investors actually took them.
Sebastian, watching with hawk-like interest, finally spoke. "Interesting strategy, Knight. I never pegged you for the… sprinkles type."
Lily opened her mouth, ready to defend the donuts, but Alex beat her to it.
"They're Carter's idea," he said curtly.
Her stomach dropped. She braced herself for him to throw her under the bus.
But then he added, "I allow my staff creative freedom. It keeps them… invested."
The investors nodded approvingly again.
Lily blinked. Did… did he just save her?
The lunch went on, messy but strangely joyful. An intern spilled soda on Sebastian's shoes. The man's smile tightened, but Alex looked faintly amused for the first time all day.
By the end, the investors left beaming, praising Alex for his "innovative team-building approach."
Sebastian's eyes lingered on Lily as he shook Alex's hand. "Very clever," he said smoothly. "But we'll see if sprinkles can win deals."
Alex's answering glare was sharp enough to peel paint.
-------------------------
When the last investor left, the office collectively exhaled like a balloon deflating.
Employees began cleaning up, whispering about how they'd actually had fun for once. Someone even muttered, "Best day at Knight Enterprises, hands down."
Lily slumped against her desk, exhausted but buzzing. She'd survived. No—better than survived. She'd won.
Her victory lasted exactly thirty seconds.
"Miss Carter."
Her head shot up. Alex stood by his office door, expression unreadable.
"Yes, Mr. Knight?" she said, trying not to squeak.
"My office. Now."
Her stomach plummeted.
-------------------------
His office was as intimidating as always—clean lines, cold colors, the air smelling faintly of expensive leather.
Lily stood awkwardly in front of his desk, fiddling with the hem of her blouse.
"So…" she began nervously. "Great lunch, right? Investors loved it. Employees bonded. Team morale skyrocketed. Total win-win."
Alex leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers. His gaze was sharp, unreadable.
"You're reckless," he said finally.
Her jaw dropped. "What?! Reckless? I brought sandwiches!"
"You disrupted workflow. You created chaos. You gambled with the company's image." His eyes bored into hers. "And you were lucky."
She sputtered. "Lucky?! That was skill! Strategy! Genius!"
His lips twitched, almost—almost—like he was fighting a smirk. "You call donuts genius?"
"Yes!" she snapped. "Sprinkles are very unifying!"
For a second, silence hung heavy between them. Then, to her utter shock, he exhaled softly, almost like a laugh he refused to release.
"Don't do it again," he said flatly. But his voice lacked the usual bite.
She blinked. Wait. Was that… forgiveness?
She grinned, relief flooding her. "So… you're saying I saved the day?"
His eyes narrowed. "Don't push it."
-------------------------
By the time Lily finally escaped the office, it was nearly 9 p.m. The streets outside glittered with neon signs and the hum of L.A. nightlife. She dragged herself into her apartment, kicked off her heels like they were mortal enemies, and collapsed face-first onto her couch.
"Operation Team Lunch: success," she mumbled into a cushion, raising one fist weakly in the air.
Then she sat up, yanking her hair tie free so her curls fell around her face. She stared at the ceiling, replaying every detail of the day.
The sandwiches. The donuts. Alex's terrifying entrance. The investors actually… liking it.
She grabbed her phone and began voice-recording, because her brain was too fried to type.
"Note to self: You are a corporate genius. Sun Tzu could never. Alex Knight totally didn't fire me, which means I am officially employee of the year." She paused, then added, "Although… he did call me reckless. And lucky. And I think he almost smiled, which was both terrifying and weirdly heart-stopping."
She groaned, burying her face in her pillow.
"Oh God. Why do I care if he smiled? He's my boss. My scary, soulless, robot-boss. Not… smile-material."
Her phone beeped. A text from Melissa lit up the screen: Heard you saved the company with sprinkles. Congrats, rookie. Drinks soon.
Lily laughed, shaking her head. "Sprinkles. My legacy."
But then her laughter softened. Because underneath all the chaos, there was a flicker of pride in her chest. For once, she hadn't been a disaster. For once, she'd made a difference.
And she wasn't going to let Alex Knight—or anyone else—take that away.
-------------------------
Back at his penthouse, Alexander Knight loosened his tie and poured himself a glass of scotch. The city stretched endlessly beyond the glass walls, a sprawl of light and noise that never slept.
He didn't sit. He rarely did when his mind was restless. Instead, he paced slowly, the weight of the day settling in.
Lily Carter.
Reckless. Chaotic. Infuriating.
And yet—
The investors had been impressed. Not by his charts. Not by his precision. But by her ridiculous stunt with sandwiches and sprinkles.
He took a long sip, the burn of scotch grounding him.
It was absurd. He should have reprimanded her publicly, shut it down before it spiraled. But something had stopped him.
The sound of laughter.
His employees—his overworked, silent, obedient employees—had been laughing. Relaxed. Alive.
He hated to admit it, but… the atmosphere had shifted. For the first time in years, the office hadn't felt like a battlefield.
And the investors had called it brilliant.
Alex set the glass down sharply, irritated at himself.
She's careless. She acts without thinking. One day, she'll cross a line that can't be salvaged.
But another thought lingered, unwanted.
And yet… she gets results.
He looked out at the city, his reflection staring back from the glass. His jaw was tight, his expression unreadable.
For the briefest second, he remembered Katherine. The way she had once teased him in the university library, calling him too serious.
He forced the memory away.
Lily was nothing like Katherine.
And yet, somehow, she was unraveling him just the same.