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*"After Hours"*
Lana had been working at Crestline Marketing for six months — efficient, focused, always professional. She didn't expect much from the office other than deadlines and decent coffee.
Then came Jordan. Sharp suit. Easy confidence. The new project manager with a voice that made meetings feel like something else entirely.
Their first few weeks were full of little things: catching her eye during presentations, brushing hands when reaching for the same folder, the slight pause when saying her name. She noticed, of course. But she didn't react — not at work.
One evening, they were the last two in the office. A late pitch review. The city lights blinked through the tall glass windows, and the air was still except for the hum of her laptop and his low voice.
"You always stay this late?" he asked, standing behind her, watching her screen.
She leaned back slightly, her voice calm. "Only when I'm trying to impress someone."
He chuckled, slow and deep. "Well… it's working."
Their eyes locked — a pause longer than it should've been.He stepped closer, close enough to feel the tension that had been building for weeks. His fingers brushed the edge of her desk, deliberately not touching her. She tilted her head, lips parting slightly, her heart thudding.
"I should go," she whispered.
"You should," he agreed. But neither moved.
She stood, slow and deliberate, facing him fully. The energy shifted — no one else was around, no rules between them now.
His voice dropped. "Lana…"
"Say it again."
"Lana."
It wasn't a kiss. Not yet. Just breath, eyes, and almost-touch. His hand reached up to gently tuck her hair behind her ear, brushing her cheek. The warmth of his fingers lingered there as she closed her eyes for a moment.
She opened them and smiled. "See you tomorrow… boss."
She walked away, leaving him standing there — hands in his pockets, pulse racing.
He smiled too. Tomorrow would come. And maybe next time, she wouldn't walk away.
*The next day* was business as usual — or at least, it pretended to be.
Lana walked into the office with her usual calm stride, but inside, her thoughts replayed every moment of last night. The way he said her name. The way she didn't want to leave. The way she almost didn't.
Jordan was already there, reviewing something at his desk. He glanced up, met her eyes, and gave her the smallest, slowest smile — like a secret only they shared.
Throughout the day, they barely spoke outside of what was required. But the tension? It simmered just beneath every shared glance, every brush of proximity.
Late again, the office emptied around them. Lana stayed behind to polish a pitch, headphones in. When she looked up, Jordan was at her door.
"Got a minute?" he asked, voice even.
She took out one earbud. "Sure."
He stepped in and closed the door — softly. Not hurried. Intentional.
"I've been thinking about last night," he said.
She folded her arms, watching him. "So have I."
Silence.
Then he crossed the space between them — slower this time, more sure. "Tell me to stop," he said again.
She didn't.
Instead, she said, "You owe me something you almost gave me."
Watch out for episode 2🥹