Lena Moore did not like Mondays.
By ten in the morning, she had already spilled coffee on her blouse, missed the elevator twice, and been sent on three different errands at the same time. Still, she kept moving. She always did.
Ethan watched her from his desk.
She moved fast, but not careless. She smiled even when she was tired. People barely noticed her effort, yet she kept showing up. Something about that pulled at him in a way he didn't understand.
"You're staring," she said suddenly.
Ethan blinked. "What?"
She stood beside his desk, holding a stack of files. "You've been staring at me for a full minute."
He laughed, embarrassed. "Sorry. Just… learning the environment."
She rolled her eyes playfully. "That's intern talk for lost and confused."
"Exactly," he said, smiling.
She handed him a folder. "Take this to Editorial Room B. And don't let Mr. Carson scare you. He bites."
"Good to know," Ethan replied.
As she turned to leave, he added, "Hey, Lena."
She looked back.
"Thanks."
"For what?"
"For… helping," he said.
Her expression softened. "That's my job."
But Ethan knew it was more than that.
Later that afternoon, the office grew quiet. Most employees had left early, but Lena remained, sitting at her usual corner desk. Ethan noticed her rubbing her eyes, clearly exhausted.
"You should go home," he said, walking over.
She sighed. "Deadlines don't care about sleep."
He hesitated, then pulled out a chair and sat beside her. "Need help?"
She raised an eyebrow. "You sure you can handle it, Intern?"
"Try me."
They worked in silence for a while. Ethan was careful, pretending to struggle with things he had mastered years ago. Lena explained patiently, never making him feel small.
"You're smarter than you act," she said casually.
His heart skipped. "Is that a compliment?"
"Maybe," she replied, smiling.
The air between them felt different. Warmer. Closer.
As evening fell, rain began tapping against the windows. Lena stood and stretched.
"Last coffee run," she said. "Want one?"
"Yes," Ethan answered quickly. "Please."
They walked to the café across the street. The city lights reflected in puddles on the sidewalk. For a moment, Ethan forgot everything—his wealth, his lies, his carefully built walls.
"So," Lena said, stirring her drink, "why publishing?"
Ethan paused. "I like stories."
She smiled. "Me too."
Silence followed, comfortable and soft.
"I write sometimes," she confessed. "Just for myself."
"I'd like to read something one day," he said.
Her cheeks flushed. "Maybe."
That single word felt like hope.
When they returned to the office, the building was almost empty. At the elevator, Lena stopped.
"See you tomorrow, Ethan."
He wanted to tell her the truth then. Wanted to stop the lie before it grew too big.
But instead, he said, "See you tomorrow."
As the elevator doors closed, Ethan exhaled slowly.
He had come to his company to find love.
He just didn't expect it to find him first.