Chapter 1
“What am I doing wrong? Maybe I’m not his type? Or maybe I’m just not on his level? But… God, he’s so beautiful — those dark eyes that pierce right through you, and that jawline like it was carved from stone. How much more do I need to do before he finally notices me?”
My thoughts tumbled over one another as I secretly watched Christian through the transparent office partitions. His confidence, that cold composure — everything about him screamed: “Don’t come closer.” And the stronger that warning felt, the more desperately I wanted to step toward him.
“Lane,” someone tugged on my shoulder. I turned — Stella, my colleague, was already smiling.
“Christian wants to see you.”
My eyebrows flew up. I quickly stood, smoothed my skirt, and almost ran to his office. I knocked on the glass door.
“You wanted to see me?”
“Yes, have a seat, Lane,” he said calmly, but there was a steel edge in his voice — the kind that made people obey even when they hated him.
I took a step forward, unable to tear my eyes away from him, and — tripped over a box on the floor. I nearly lost my balance, but a strong hand instantly caught me.
God, how embarrassing… my eternal clumsiness.
“Sorry… thank you,” I breathed, feeling my cheeks burn.
“Are you alright? Did you hurt yourself?”
“No, I’m fine,” I replied, embarrassed, and sat down in the chair, painfully aware of my colleagues watching through the glass.
Great performance, Lane…
“So what did you want?” I asked, trying to sound professional.
“I heard you’re excellent at planning events. My mother’s birthday is coming up, and I’d like to throw a party for her.”
I froze for a second — almost no one knew about my side job. Before I could respond, he added:
“Stella told me. Of course, I’ll pay you. I understand this is your additional work.”
Everything inside me flared. Of course it was Stella. She knew I had feelings for him and just couldn’t resist meddling.
“I’m not pressuring you,” Christian continued, watching me closely. “If it doesn’t work out, I’ll understand.”
“No, it’s okay,” I said quickly, pulling myself together. “How many guests? Any preferences? Budget?”
He gave a slight smile — it seemed he appreciated how quickly I switched to business mode.
“I could use your help with ideas as well,” he said, leaning back in his chair. His jacket was unbuttoned, and the white shirt softly hugged his torso. My gaze slid downward, and I immediately felt heat rush to my cheeks again.
When I looked up — he was already staring at me.
Directly. Intently.
Did he see me looking?
“Lane, are you okay?” he asked calmly.
“Huh? Yes, of course, everything’s fine,” I answered hurriedly and jumped to my feet. “I’ll prepare some options and come back to you.”
I had almost reached the door when I heard:
“Lane.”
Shit.
I turned around.
“Your skirt.”
I looked down and froze. The fabric had ridden up far higher than it should have — the edge of my stocking and the thin garter belt were visible.
Silently adjusting it, I practically fled the office, my heart pounding in my throat.
I dropped into my chair, elbows on the desk, and buried my face in my hands.
“How humiliating…” I whispered to myself.
“How did it go?” came Stella’s smug voice beside me.
I lifted my head and met her satisfied smile.
“I’ve never been so embarrassed in my life. And it’s all because of you,” I said, covering my face again.
“Oh come on,” she laughed, perching on the edge of my desk. “I just helped you two get a little closer. A joint project is the perfect excuse to talk more.”
“When did you start working as a matchmaker?” I asked tiredly, glancing at her.
Stella squatted down next to me and, like a conspirator, looked me in the eyes:
“You’re always complaining that nothing ever happens. Here’s your chance! You’ll even get to meet his mother — who knows, maybe you’ll become his bride one day.”
I shook my head.
“Even I don’t have fantasies that wild.”
“You need to look to the future,” she said with exaggerated seriousness, waving her hand as if parting an invisible veil.
“God…” I rolled my eyes and smirked.
Stella had always been a little strange. She loved reading tarot, making predictions, speaking in riddles. I didn’t believe in any of that nonsense, but I nodded anyway so we wouldn’t argue. Her fantasies were often ridiculous, but she was always honest — she said exactly what she thought. And no matter how annoying it sometimes was, that was her strength.
I, on the other hand, was the opposite. I knew how to keep everything inside. Smile when it hurt. Say “everything’s fine” even when my world was falling apart.
Until the truth burst out on its own — loud, merciless, and always at the worst possible moment.
