The office had a strange quiet at night. The hum of printers, the clacking of keyboards, and the shuffle of papers had faded hours ago, leaving only the low whir of the air conditioning and the occasional creak of the building settling.
Amara sat at her desk, surrounded by spreadsheets, blueprints, and half-drunk coffee cups. Her eyes burned from staring at the screen too long, but she couldn't leave. Not with the Riverside proposal due first thing in the morning.
She rubbed her temples, muttering under her breath, "Just a few more adjustments…"
The sound of footsteps broke her focus. She stiffened, hoping—praying—it wasn't security coming to throw her out. But when she looked up, her heart sank.
Daniel.
He was strolling down the row of cubicles with that same infuriating confidence, his tie loosened, sleeves rolled up, hair a little messy like he'd been running his hands through it. He looked too at ease for someone still stuck at work at 9:00 p.m.
"Still here?" His voice carried a teasing lilt.
"Unfortunately," she muttered, turning back to her screen.
Instead of taking the hint, he pulled out the chair across from her desk and sat down, flipping open his sleek leather portfolio.
"Guess that makes two of us," he said casually.
Amara sighed. "Why are you here, Hayes?"
He leaned back in the chair, smirking. "Same reason as you. Boss wants this proposal flawless, and apparently, we're the chosen ones."
She bristled. Of course. The note her boss had left earlier clicked into place: Work with Daniel on final revisions.
Great. Just great.
"I don't need help," she said tightly.
"Maybe not. But teamwork builds…" He paused, tilting his head with mock seriousness. "What's that word our boss loves? Oh right—synergy."
Amara nearly choked on her coffee. "Synergy? You mean the word he says ten times in every meeting?"
Daniel grinned, clearly pleased he'd gotten a reaction. "Exactly. We're practically embodying it right now."
She tried not to smile, tried to keep her walls intact, but it was hard. He had that effect on people—on her. Against her better judgment, she turned the blueprints toward him.
"Fine," she said. "But don't slow me down."
For the next hour, they worked side by side, and to Amara's growing irritation, Daniel wasn't useless. Far from it. He caught tiny errors in the measurements, suggested cleaner layouts for the investor slides, and even cracked a formula she had been stuck on for half an hour.
And then there was his humor. Subtle, easy, sometimes ridiculous, but it kept her from drowning in stress.
At one point, when she groaned at a miscalculated figure, he leaned closer and whispered dramatically, "Don't worry. Numbers fear me. Watch this." He tapped the calculator like it was a bomb he was diffusing, then flashed her a triumphant grin.
She shook her head, laughing before she realized it. And that was when it happened—he caught her.
"There it is," he said softly, his gaze locking on hers. "A smile."
Her cheeks warmed instantly. She ducked her head, shuffling papers to hide it. "Don't flatter yourself. I smile all the time."
"Maybe," he murmured, "but not like that."
The words hung in the air, charged, unsettling. Amara's pulse quickened, but she forced herself to look away, pretending to be consumed by the glowing spreadsheet on her screen.
Another thirty minutes passed before the final draft was complete. Amara clicked save with a victorious sigh and pushed her chair back.
"Done," she announced.
Daniel stretched, muscles shifting under his shirt, and let out a satisfied groan. "Not bad, partner."
"We're not partners," she shot back automatically.
He smirked, gathering his papers. "Not yet."
Amara rolled her eyes, slipping her laptop into her bag. But as she walked toward the elevator, she couldn't ignore the strange flutter in her chest—or the fact that, for the first time in weeks, staying late at work hadn't felt lonely.
And that scared her more than any deadline ever could