The lights flickered once more.

Richard turned back toward the window, his profile sharp in the dim light. Maya remained seated at the long conference table, her fingers curled around the edge of her notebook, skin still warm where he had touched her. Neither had spoken since the contact. But both were unmistakably altered by it.

A moment later, the distant sound of heels clicked down the hall—light, measured, growing louder.

Then: the rattle of keys. A murmured voice. A creak of the door opening.

"Mr. Steel?" came a surprised voice from just beyond the frosted glass.

Richard moved first. He straightened, composed, and crossed the room in two strides to unlock the door from the inside. A middle-aged building supervisor peered in, holding a ring of keys in one gloved hand and a clipboard in the other.

"I wasn't aware anyone was still working in here," the man said. "System auto-locks the floor at six unless manually overridden. Sorry, sir."

Richard gave a curt nod. 

 "Okay sir, I'll check the rest of the floor." The man said turning to leave.

The door clicked shut behind him.

Maya slowly rose from her chair, clutching her things. Her ankle ached, but the pain felt distant now muted beneath the louder thrum in her chest. She didn't look at Richard. She couldn't, not yet. Not after that moment.

"I'll call a car for you," Richard said, voice low. "Wait downstairs. It's cold."

She nodded and murmured, "Thank you, sir."

They walked to the elevator in silence, the usual weight of professionalism hanging like a veil over something far more fragile beneath.

When they reached the lobby, Maya expected him to disappear as always, to vanish into his sleek town car with that same unreadable mask. But Richard lingered as she took a seat on one of the waiting benches near the glass doors.

"I'll wait until you're picked up," he said simply.

Her throat tightened. "Thank you, sir."

She watched as he stood by the window, arms folded, gaze turned outward toward the street. She wasn't sure if he was avoiding her eyes... or trying not to give something away.

A car pulled up five minutes later. He opened the door for her himself.

"Take care of that ankle," he said softly, almost too soft to hear.

She nodded, climbing into the back seat. She looked up at him one last time before the door closed.

But he was already walking away.

_____

The sky had only just begun to lighten when Maya stepped into the office, the quiet hum of early morning workdays echoing faintly through the marble-floored lobby. Her ankle was mostly healed now—enough to walk normally, though she still avoided heels. The sting had faded, but not the memory of the moments that came after.

It was only yesterday that she and Richard had been accidentally locked in the conference room. Only yesterday that he had touched her—gently, with a look in his eyes she still couldn't quite define.

And yet, this morning, the air felt curiously untouched. No sign of him. No messages. No summons.

She was at her desk, sorting through contracts for review, when Jay appeared at her side with a grin.

"Good morning, precious Maya." he teased.

Maya smiled weakly. "Morning, Jay."

"You look like you barely slept. Trouble with Excel formulas, or was it the haunting presence of a Mr. Steel?" He wiggled his brows, clearly amused with himself.

Maya flushed not saying anything in response.

Jay leaned against her desk. "Well, lucky for you, the universe—or more accurately, the company calendar—has a cure."

She blinked. "What?"

He fished out his tablet, tapped a few times, then turned the screen toward her. A digital invitation shone brightly on the display, bearing the firm's name in embossed silver.

The Steel & Hart Annual Winter Gala – An Evening of Legacy and Elegance

Maya's heart sank. "A gala?"

"Yep," Jay said cheerfully. "Black tie. Five-star venue. Endless champagne. And," he added, lowering his voice conspiratorially, "you've been named as Richard's plus one."

"What?"

"It's official. Your name is on the guest list. I checked."

Maya gasped at him. "But he didn't say anything—"

"That's why you always have to check the company's calendar Maya." Jay said with eyes full of excitement. "This is the company's flagship event. Big clients. Board members. Press. And every senior executive brings someone. It's strategic."

Maya sank back in her chair, stunned.

Jay smiled sympathetically. "Don't panic, don't worry—we're not letting you show up in an old sweater."

"I was not going to wear a sweater, Jay."

"Mm-hm. That's what they all say." Jay tapped the desk. "Grab your coat. You, me, and Brielle are going shopping."

"Brielle?" Maya asked.

"Oh, she's for social media, don't worry." Jay responded almost immediately. "Let's go."

Maya blinked. "Wait—now?"

"Company card." he said smugly, waving a sleek black credit card between his fingers. 

She narrowed her eyes. "Really?"

"The company covers all expenses related to the company especially one as big as this."

They took a car to one of the most exclusive shopping districts in the city, the kind of place Maya only saw in magazines. Brielle met them there, eyes wide and ready for the challenge.

Three hours later, Maya was sitting in a private fitting room surrounded by glittering gowns and silky fabrics. She'd tried on six dresses so far—none felt quite right.

Jay returned with a new option draped dramatically over his arm. "Try this one. Midnight blue. Not black. Not red. But close enough to power and mystery."

Maya laughed despite herself and took the dress. It shimmered when she held it up. Luxurious. Elegant. She stepped behind the curtain and slipped it on, feeling the weight of it settle over her like a different kind of armor.

When she stepped out, Brielle gasped. "Okay, that's the one."

Jay nodded. "Mr. Steel would be proud to have you by his side."

Maya flushed. "Stop it."

He grinned. "Too late. You're his plus one. You don't just show up—you arrive."

She glanced at her reflection. The dress cinched softly at the waist and flared subtly at the bottom. The midnight fabric brought out a warm glow in her skin, and the neckline curved just enough to feel bold without revealing too much.

She didn't recognize herself.

But somehow, it felt... right.

A version of herself that could stand beside someone like Richard Steel—even if she was very nervous about the whole thing.

Jay handed her a sleek pair of low-heeled shoes. "Don't worry. We're not pushing your ankle too hard."

Brielle was already searching for accessories. "We'll get you a clutch, earrings, and you'll need a shawl or something for the cold. Hair appointment booked for the morning of. You're going to look like someone out of a magazine."

As the three of them headed toward the checkout counter, Maya lagged behind for a moment.

Something fluttered in her chest, her nerves were all over the place.

Because tomorrow night, she would step into a room filled with power and legacy, press and board members—and Richard would be at her side.

And still, she hadn't spoken to him since that moment in the conference room.

She glanced down at the dress bag in her hand.

Tomorrow would be different, a room full of lights and music with everyone watching.