On Friday, I got ready carefully. The dress fit perfectly, highlighting curves I didn’t know I had. Subtle but elegant makeup, hair in a loose updo. When I came down the stairs, Nick was waiting in the foyer, looking incredible in a tuxedo. His eyes widened when he saw me.
His gaze slowly traveled down my body—not disrespectfully, but with admiration, almost reverence. — “You look stunning.” Heat rose up my neck.
— “It’s the dress.” — “No.” — His voice grew deeper. — “It’s definitely not just the dress.” The event was held in a massive ballroom decorated with such luxury I felt like I’d stepped into a movie. Crystal chandeliers, silk tablecloths, and people wearing more jewelry than some countries’ GDP.
Nick kept a hand on the small of my back as we moved through the room, introducing me to important contacts. The touch was light, professional, but it burned through the fabric of the dress. We were talking to a group of executives when she appeared.
A tall blonde with flawless makeup in a red dress that showed off endless, sculpted legs. A model, obviously, or maybe an actress. — “Nick!” She floated over to him with a familiarity that made my stomach knot. — “It’s been ages, Victoria.” — He was polite but reserved, his hand still on my back. — “How are you?” — “Better now.” — She batted her eyelashes exaggeratedly, completely ignoring me. — “We need to catch up, have that drink you promised.” I didn’t promise anything. I saw it in his eyes.
But Victoria continued, openly flirting, touching his arm, laughing too loudly at jokes that weren’t funny. And I felt it. Jealousy. Green, ugly, all-consuming, and ridiculous. Because he was my boss, not my anything. But seeing this beautiful woman touch him, smile at him, clearly wanting more, did something cruel to my chest.
— “And who is your companion?” — Victoria finally looked at me. Her eyes swept over me with cold appraisal. — “Angela Miller.” — Nick pulled me slightly closer. — “My executive assistant. Indispensable.” ‘Indispensable.’ That word should have made me feel like a professional, a valued employee.
But all I heard was: assistant, employee, not a girlfriend, not a romantic interest, just an indispensable assistant. Victoria smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. She saw a competitor and was marking her territory. — “How lucky for you, Nick. Competent assistants are so hard to find.” We talked for a few more minutes.
Or rather, they talked while I pretended to be interested. When we finally moved away, I could feel her gaze boring into my back—judging, finding me lacking. — “Sorry about Victoria,” Nick whispered. His hand was still on my back. — “She’s persistent.” — “Ex-girlfriend?” — “Something like that. Nothing serious.” — He led me to the bar. — “Want a drink?” — “Champagne. Please.” I needed the alcohol. Just a little, to dull the absurd jealousy.
Nick ordered two glasses, and we stood watching the party, closer to each other than we should have been. I could hear his breathing, feel the heat of his body next to mine. Everything about him pulled me in like gravity. — “You said ‘indispensable,'” I noted quietly. He looked at me, his eyes dark and piercing. — “Because you are indispensable, Angela—not just at work, but in everything.” Before I could answer, Nick was called away for photos. He left reluctantly, leaving me alone with my tangled thoughts and a heart beating too fast.
Victoria appeared next to me like a snake. — “Is he a good boss?” — “The best.” — I kept my tone neutral. — “Hmm.” — She took a sip of her drink. — “Take care of him. Nick deserves someone who understands his world.” The message was clear.
I wasn’t from that world. And I never would be. I was just a temporary fixture in his life. But when Nick came back and immediately searched for me in the crowd, when his eyes lit up finding me, when his hand returned to my back as if it belonged there, I wondered… Maybe Victoria was wrong? Maybe I didn’t understand his world. But maybe he didn’t need someone who did?
Maybe he needed someone who made him forget that world, even for a moment? And maybe I was tired of fighting the inevitable? Chapter Four.
Almost. The week after the gala was unbearable. If we crossed that line, there would be no going back.
It wasn’t a draining or stressful period, but the kind where the air became heavy and hard to breathe, as if the whole estate were waiting for something to happen. The tension between Nick and me had shifted from silent to deafening. Impossible to ignore, even when we desperately tried.
We avoided each other and sought each other out at the same time, in a pathetic dance that was probably obvious to anyone with working eyes. I walked past the hallway leading to his office more often than necessary, hoping for a chance encounter. He appeared in my office with transparent excuses about documents he could have requested by email.
When we did bump into each other, the conversation was too professional, too strained. The looks lasted too long. The silence said more than words, and every interaction left my heart beating chaotically and my mind spinning around things I shouldn’t be thinking about. Mrs. Davis was officially tired of our foolishness.
I found her in the kitchen Thursday morning. She was brewing coffee, and the way she looked at me made it clear her patience had run out. — “You’re both idiots,” she declared without preamble, setting a cup in front of me with more force than necessary. — “He loves you. You love him. End of story. What are you waiting for? Divine intervention?”
I nearly choked on my coffee. — “Mrs. Davis, I’m not…” — “Don’t lie to me, dear. I’m too old to put up with it.” — She sat across from me. Her eyes were kind but firm. — “I’ve worked here for ten years. I know Nick. I’ve seen him with other women.”
I’ve seen attempts at relationships that lasted weeks before he completely lost interest. He has never, not once, looked at anyone the way he looks at you. — “It’s complicated,” I muttered, staring into my cup. — “If it goes wrong…” — “And what if it goes right?”
