Denisse had claimed the far end of the pantry like it was neutral territory in a war she refused to fight.
Sunlight filtered through the frosted glass panels, laying pale rectangles across the long wooden table. The office microwave hummed. Someone somewhere was laughing too loudly. The scent of reheated pasta and brewed coffee hung in the air, warm and faintly metallic.
She unwrapped her lunch slowly, deliberately. Rice, grilled chicken, sautéed vegetables. Safe. Predictable.
Unlike her neck.
She resisted the urge to reach up and touch the faint sting just near her collarbone. It throbbed in a way that was far too noticeable. She could still feel the ghost of lips there. The warmth. The slow drag of breath.
She pressed her lips together
Lesley had insisted they go out for lunch. "We deserve it," she had said in that low, persuasive voice that made resistance feel theatrical. But Denisse had declined, stubbornly loyal.
"I promised Gigi," she had said.
Because promises mattered.
Also, because she knew Gigi would combust if she suspected anything.
Right on cue, the pantry door swung open with unnecessary drama.
Gigi burst in carrying her lunch container like a woman returning from battle. She dropped it onto the table with a theatrical sigh and slid into the chair across from Denisse.
"Sorry!" she announced, breathless. "I just sent the remaining files Mr. Davis needed. If that man asks for one more revision I swear I'll frame his email and hang it in my bathroom."
Denisse smiled, soft and amused. "It's fine. Let's eat."
Gigi dropped into the chair across from her, dramatically exhaling as if she had just completed a marathon. She placed her food down, brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, and then—
She froze.
Her eyes widened.
Her mouth fell open.
"Ahhhhh!"
Denisse nearly dropped her spoon. Several employees turned their heads in unison.
"What? What?" Denisse hissed immediately, gesturing frantically for her to lower her voice.
Gigi clapped a hand over her own mouth, staring at Denisse like she had just uncovered state secrets.
"Oh. My. God."
Denisse's stomach sank. Did she spill something? Was there food on her face? A lizard on the ceiling?
"What?" she demanded again, more urgently now.
Gigi slowly lifted a trembling finger and pointed.
At her neck.
Denisse's heart dropped straight into her lunch container.
Heat flooded her throat. It was immediate, betraying. She resisted the urge to slap her palm over the mark.
"What about it?" she said carefully.
"When," Gigi whispered dramatically, eyes sparkling with chaos, "did you have fun and not tell me?"
Denisse gave her a pointed look. The kind that said behave.
"Gigi."
"Come on. Spill."
"It's not what you think," Denisse insisted quickly. "I was bitten by a mosquito."
Gigi leaned back in her chair, folding her arms.
"Oh yeah? And you think I would believe that?" She raised an eyebrow. "Please. I put marks on my girlfriend too. And not only on the neck."
"Gigi!" Denisse nearly choked on her own breath, glancing around to make sure no one was listening.
Gigi leaned forward again, lowering her voice but not her grin.
"Tell me. Are there many down there?" She gestured vaguely toward Denisse's collarbone. Then, with zero shame, pointed lower.
"No!" Denisse said, a small laugh escaping despite herself.
Gigi narrowed her eyes playfully. "Suspicious."
Denisse tried to look offended, but her lips kept betraying her.
"Well, fine," Gigi said with exaggerated grace. "If you don't want to share yet, I'll let you keep your secrets. But I am very happy." She wagged her fork at her. "I thought you were going to let cobwebs grow on your beautiful flower."
Denisse burst out laughing, shaking her head. "You're ridiculous."
"Admit it."
"Just eat," Denisse muttered, still smiling.
Gigi grinned, satisfied. "Fine. But when I meet this mosquito, I want a formal introduction."
Denisse rolled her eyes and took a bite of her lunch, hoping her cheeks would cool.
They didn't.
Because the mosquito had hands.
And lips.
And a voice that said her name like it was something to be unwrapped slowly.
They lingered over their food far longer than planned, and the rest of their lunch was spent wrapped in easy laughter, playful teasing, and a blissful forgetting of the work waiting just outside the pantry door.
--
The rest of the afternoon unfolded almost normally.
Meetings. Calls. Adjusted schedules. Last-minute revisions. The familiar rhythm of office life resumed its steady pace. Yet beneath it all, something subtle had shifted.
Lingering glances through the glass walls of Lesley's office.
Small smiles that appeared and vanished in seconds.
A quick wink when no one was looking.
Fingers brushing in passing while exchanging documents.
Once, in the quiet of a supply room, a stolen kiss that left Denisse breathless for the next ten minutes.
It was reckless.
It was thrilling.
It was theirs.
By the time their final meeting ended, the sky outside had begun to soften toward evening. The presentation they had worked on together was officially approved. All that remained was scheduling the meeting with the owner of the Blue Moon Hotel.
The conference room was empty now.
Just the two of them.
Denisse stood at the table, carefully stacking documents into a neat pile, sliding them into a folder. She could feel it before she confirmed it.
Lesley was looking at her.
She glanced up.
She wasn't wrong.
Lesley stood across the table, holding a few papers in her hand but not moving, her gaze fixed on Denisse in a way that made her stomach flip.
"I'm going to melt with that look, Ms. Ashford," Denisse said lightly, though her fingers trembled slightly as she aligned the edges of the folder.
Lesley didn't answer.
Instead, she walked around the table slowly. Deliberately.
Denisse's breath shallowed.
Lesley stopped behind her and gently wrapped her arms around Denisse's waist.
The contact was warm. Certain.
"Told you to drop the formalities," Lesley murmured near her ear.
"But we're still in the office," Denisse whispered back, though she leaned into the embrace without thinking.
"We're the only ones here."
Denisse paused, then turned within Lesley's arms, looking up at her.
"Fine," she said softly. "You happy now… Lesley?"
Lesley's lips curved into a slow smile.
"Yes."
She leaned down and kissed her.
This one wasn't fierce like the elevator. It wasn't hurried or reckless. It was warm. Assured. Lingering.
Denisse kissed her back just as deeply.
For a moment, the world outside the glass walls didn't exist.
Then, reluctantly, they separated.
"We should go," Denisse said, though her hands stayed on Lesley's waist for an extra second.
"Before you decide to keep me here?" Lesley murmured, one eyebrow lifting.
Denisse's smile betrayed her.
They gathered the rest of the documents, turned off the lights, and walked out side by side.
Professional once more.
But their fingers brushed as they headed toward the exit.
And this time, neither of them pretended it was an accident.