Page 12 of Most Likely to Deny Love

I hastily grabbed one of her pens and snapped the drawer shut. Leaving anonymous notes was one thing. Snooping through her personal belongings was something else entirely.

I quickly wrote on the post-it and stuck it to her computer screen.

The strongest hearts are forged in fire.

Yeah, it was sappy, but that was kinda the point.

I left her office without looking back, closing the door quietly behind me. As I walked to my own office, I knew I should stop this ridiculous ritual. But seeing those notes lined up in her drawer, knowing she kept them close... I wasn’t sure I could.

Three hours later,a soft knock pulled my attention from the quarterly projections. I looked up to find Mia standing in my doorway, a folder clutched against her chest. The air stilled in my lungs. Fuck, she was gorgeous.

She wore a cranberry blouse that made her skin glow and a black A-line skirt that skimmed over her curves in a way that made my mouth go dry. Her dark hair fell in waves around her shoulders, and for a second, I forgot I was supposed to be her boss, not some randy teenager.

“Mr. Sullivan?” Her voice broke the spell. “Do you have time to discuss those customer archetypes? You mentioned yesterday...” Her words trailed off, uncertainty flickering in her eyes.

I straightened in my chair, forcing my expression into something professional. “Of course. Please, come in.”

She stepped inside, closing the door behind her with a soft click that somehow felt more intimate than it should have.

“Have a seat.” I gestured to the chair across from my desk, watching as she settled into it, smoothing her skirt with a nervous gesture that fascinated me more than it had any right to.

Focus, Sullivan.

As she opened her folder and began arranging printouts, I noticed the shadows under her eyes, skillfully concealed with makeup but still visible if you were looking closely. And I was definitely looking too closely.

“Are you alright?” The question slipped out before I could stop it. “You seem tired.”

She glanced up, surprise flickering across her face. “I’m fine. Just a late night.” She attempted a smile that didn’t quite land. “Family dinner.”

The way she said “family dinner” told me everything I needed to know. Whatever had happened, it hadn’t been pleasant.

“I see.” I nodded, then gestured to the printouts. “Let’s go through your system.”

For the next twenty minutes, I watched her transform. As she explained her customer archetypes, her fatigue seemed to evaporate, replaced by genuine passion and intelligence. She’d created something remarkable. Something that most companies paid consulting firms millions to develop.

“This is excellent work,” I said when she finished, meaning every word. “How long did it take you to develop this?”

“I’d been thinking about it for a while before I was promoted, so I was ready to hit the ground running once that happened. All in, I’d say about six months of analysis, then two months of implementation and refinement.” Pride colored her voice, though she tried to temper it with professionalism.

I leaned back in my chair, studying her. “And you found time to do this while managing your team and regular reporting?”

Something crossed her face. a flicker of strain quickly masked. “I manage my time effectively.”

“How regularly does that involve taking home boxes of paperwork at night?”

She stiffened. “That was... an unusual circumstance.”

“Was it? Kindly elaborate.”

“Well, it’s just the new reporting requirements that management have requested. Since they have to be in by tomorrow, I thought it best to get it covered outside of work hours.”

That had me frowning. “What reporting requirements?”

Confusion clouded her pretty eyes. “The, uh, the daily activity logs for my team, and…”

My frown deepened.

“… um, stuff like that.”

---