The next morning, Maya woke before her alarm. For a moment, she lay still in bed, staring at the ceiling, her heart pounding at the memory of the day before. Ethan Cole. Her boss.
She had spent half the night replaying their encounter in her head, analyzing every look, every word. The way he'd said her name still echoed through her thoughts, calm but layered with emotion.
"Get over it, Maya," she muttered, sitting up and pushing her hair back. "It's just a job."
She got dressed carefully—pale blue blouse, black skirt, neat bun. Professional. Confident. Unshakable. She applied her lipstick like armor and told herself that today, she would be nothing more than Mr. Cole's assistant. Nothing less, nothing more.
When she entered Cole Enterprises, the office buzzed with energy. Phones rang, keyboards clicked, and the air smelled faintly of expensive coffee and ambition. Maya took a deep breath, walked to her desk outside Ethan's office, and powered on her computer.
A few minutes later, Clara from HR passed by with a bright smile. "Morning, Maya! How was your first day?"
Maya forced a pleasant smile. "Productive."
Clara chuckled. "That's one way to put it. Mr. Cole's a perfectionist, but he's one of the good ones. He actually remembers his employees' birthdays."
"That's… nice," Maya said vaguely, pretending to type.
"Anyway, there's a staff meeting at nine. You'll need to take notes for Mr. Cole."
"Got it," Maya said, jotting it down.
By the time nine rolled around, the conference room was already full. Executives chatted in low voices, sipping coffee from fine porcelain cups. Maya slipped in quietly and took her seat beside Ethan, who looked effortlessly polished in a dark navy suit.
He didn't look at her right away, but when he did, it was brief—just a flicker of warmth that made her pulse skip.
"Ms. Hayes," he said softly, as if testing the name again. "Ready?"
"Yes, sir," she replied, professional and steady.
The meeting began. Numbers, strategies, projections—Maya took precise notes, her focus sharp. But it was impossible not to notice how Ethan commanded the room. His voice was calm yet authoritative, his confidence magnetic. Every time he spoke, people listened.
She remembered how that same voice used to whisper her name at night, soft and full of promise.
"Ms. Hayes?"
Her pen froze mid-sentence. She looked up. Ethan was watching her with raised eyebrows.
"I asked if you could forward the updated marketing schedule to the team," he said, a hint of amusement in his tone.
"Of course," she said quickly, cheeks warming as a few executives smiled knowingly.
"Thank you," Ethan said, and continued without missing a beat.
When the meeting ended, Maya gathered her notes quickly, hoping to escape before he could say anything else. But as the others left, Ethan lingered by the window, hands in his pockets.
"Maya," he said gently when she tried to pass.
She stopped. "Yes, Mr. Cole?"
"Relax," he said with a faint smile. "You did well. Don't let a small slip make you nervous."
"I'm not nervous," she lied.
"Of course you're not," he replied, clearly not believing her. "Still, good work. I'm glad to have you on my team."
"Thank you, sir."
He studied her for a moment, his gaze softer now. "You don't have to call me 'sir' all the time, you know."
She met his eyes, tone calm but firm. "At work, you're my boss. It's appropriate."
Something flickered in his expression—regret, maybe, or admiration. "All right then, Ms. Hayes. Carry on."
She nodded and left, her heart beating too fast.
Back at her desk, Maya threw herself into tasks—emails, schedules, reports. Anything to keep from thinking about the man behind the glass wall. But even then, she felt him. Every time he walked past, her body reacted before her mind could stop it. His voice, his scent, his presence—it all pulled her back to a time when things were simpler.
Around noon, Ethan called through the intercom. "Ms. Hayes, could you step in for a moment?"
She smoothed her skirt, grabbed her tablet, and entered his office.
He was standing by his desk, tie loosened slightly, sleeves rolled up. The sight made her chest tighten unexpectedly.
"Close the door, please," he said.
She did, careful to maintain her composure. "What can I do for you?"
"I need you to organize a dinner meeting with Mr. Daniels from Sterling Holdings," he said. "Preferably this Friday evening. Make the reservation for three."
"Three?" she asked, tapping on her tablet.
"You'll be joining us."
Her eyes snapped up. "Me?"
"Yes. Daniels tends to behave better when there's a level head in the room." His lips quirked slightly. "And you're good at that."
"I—thank you. I'll arrange it," she said, trying to ignore the strange flutter in her stomach.
As she turned to leave, Ethan's voice softened. "Maya."
She froze.
"I hope you know," he said quietly, "I didn't expect this either. Seeing you again, I mean."
Her throat tightened. "Neither did I."
He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I thought about you. More than I should've."
"Mr. Cole," she interrupted, her tone clipped, "I really think we should keep things professional."
Ethan nodded, his expression unreadable. "You're right. Of course."
She left before he could say anything more.
Back at her desk, her phone buzzed with messages—reminders, calls, and one unexpected text from an unknown number.
Unknown: You still hate coffee with too much sugar?
She froze. It was him.
She typed a quick reply before she could stop herself:
Maya: I don't discuss beverages with my boss.
She put the phone face-down and buried herself in work again.
The rest of the day passed in quiet chaos. Maya met with suppliers, updated reports, and organized the dinner reservation Ethan had requested. Still, his presence lingered in the air between them—unspoken, magnetic, impossible to ignore.
By evening, most employees had gone home, leaving the office bathed in the golden glow of sunset. Maya was still at her desk, finishing a summary, when Ethan appeared again.
"You're still here?" he asked.
"So are you," she replied without looking up.
He smiled faintly. "Fair point. Do you always work this hard?"
"I don't like leaving things unfinished."
"Neither do I," he said softly, and for a moment, their eyes met.
Something passed between them—quiet, electric, dangerous.
Maya looked away first. "Is there anything else you need, Mr. Cole?"
"Yes," he said after a pause. "Tomorrow morning, clear your schedule. We'll be meeting the board at ten. And Maya?"
"Yes?"
"You're doing great," he said, his voice low and sincere. "I mean that."
She nodded stiffly. "Thank you."
After he left, Maya sank back into her chair, her heart twisting in confusion. He was kind—too kind. The same man who'd once made her feel seen, cherished… and then left her behind.
When she finally shut down her computer and walked out into the cool night, the city lights blurred through the glass doors. She told herself it didn't matter anymore.
But as she waited for a cab, she caught sight of Ethan through his office window—still working, his head bent over paperwork, the faint glow of his lamp outlining his profile.
And she realized, with a painful, undeniable truth—
the past wasn't done with her yet.