Chapter 89: The Office Partnership

Lisa’s POV

Already, the atmosphere feels changed when I arrive at the office that morning.

It’s not only that the computers are starting up with a low hum or that the co-workers are quietly saying “good mornings” to each other. It’s just that my body feels much more conscious of him – Leo – even before my eyes do. Without even thinking about it, I find myself looking in the direction of his glass-walled office, and my heart calms when I see his outline in there, leaning slightly over his desk as he reads a file.

And there he is.

My husband.

My almost-something-more-than-just-a-husband.

My better half in a way we have never quite shared before.

The idea makes my chest feel a little warm… shaky.

“Good morning, Lisa,” Maria says when she walks past my desk, with a subtle, knowing smile.

It is kind, not inquisitive, but heatens the blood to my ears. Since then, the whispers indeed seem to have softened somewhat, evolving from scandalized curiosity into hushed wonder. I think folks are acclimating to the dynamic between Leo and me, the little exchanges, the smiles, the shared lunches.

Saying something, I murmur my response, and sit down, telling myself to concentrate. Today matters. The deal we’re working on is one of the company’s biggest deals of the quarter — a possible partnership with a huge international brand. It’s all for the best, Now true St. Lois are the spoils. Endless details. And somehow, destiny has placed Leo and me not just as husband and wife who share a name, but as two minds that are supposed to meld together.

A challenge.

A test.

My screen flickers on, and I am met with spreadsheets, notes, proposed timelines. Just as I’m going to begin reworking the presentation, my phone buzzes once on the desk next to me.

Leo: conference room. Five minutes?

It’s just one simple text, yet it slows my breathing, makes my fingertips tingle as I rest them against the screen.

Me: I’m on my way.

When I enter the conference room, he’s already there, sleeves rolled up, jacket draped over the back of a chair.

“Hey” he says, looking up, softer than he’s ever looked at work.

“Hey,” I say.

There’s almost a bashfulness that passes between us, something we don’t say that is fully present.

He clears his throat and nods toward the seat next to him. “I thought we should run through the proposal with each other before the rest of the team joins. I want it to sound like us — balanced. Not just strategy. Vision too.”

Us. The word sounds like a promise, like a secret I’m not sure I’m ready to own up to, but that I long for.

As he starts to move his way through the data, I lean close, reading the projected slides, making comments, offering suggestions on how we could tweak the flow, changing some of the phrasing. It doesn’t feel like two separate opinions clashing. It’s a dance—one thought leads into the next, and his mind weaves as naturally as mine.

“You’ve always been good at seeing the emotional side of a pitch,” he says, tapping the screen thoughtfully. “You see what the numbers don’t tell you.”

“And you see what I try too hard to emotionalize,” I say with a faint smile.

He laughs. “Which I guess makes us a volatile mix.”

It is effortless, startling in its lightness, the laughter that I can not hold back. For years all of our had been strained, cautious, guarded, colder in his hands. But now?

Now, I am sitting side by side with him, jostling for space on the same keyboard as we hunch over it—completing each other’s sentences professionally, if not personally.

When the squad eventually pours in, their entire energy shifts the air as they see our dynamic. There’s nothing frosty about it, no tension-tight pauses. Leo and I alternate, elbowing each other, letting the ideas flow seamlessly. Even the most cynical members nod along, their veiled frowns melting into admiration.

Halfway through, I see him watching me as I explain the marketing angle, and for a second I hesitate—not because I’m unsure, but because there’s so much meaning in his gaze. He believes in me.

By the time the meeting breaks up, the room is abuzz with quiet talks and low-level excitement. Everyone can feel it. We’ve struck gold.

“You two were outstanding back there,” Maria murmurs as she walks by. “Honestly… it was really powerful.”

I look at Leo. He’s still scanning the screen, but there’s a smile playing on his lips.

“Good work, Lisa,” he says, when I turn toward him at last.

“Nice work, partner,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper.

The word hangs between us, delicate with a monumental impact.

Before the end of the day, once more just the two of us in his office, going over the last-minute edits before the proposal goes to the board. The quiet is peaceful, the kind that doesn’t make you want to speak.

“You do realize,” he mumbles without looking up, “that this is the first time we’ve worked side by side without feeling like we were on opposite sides of a battlefield?”

His words are true, and my throat tightens at it.

“I was thinking the same thing,” I acknowledge. “So long as I thought we were just not compatible. Too distant. Very far away from each other.”

“And now?” he softly questions. I look him in the eyes, and where doubt used to reside, something else is beginning to take root.

“Now I think … we just never took the opportunity to claim to be on the same side.”

His eyes soften, a vulnerable warmth shines through them.

“Well,” he says softly as he takes a step closer, “I'm glad we ultimately chose to.”

The proximity sends a mild vibration through me, but I don’t flinch. Instead, I allow the moment to sink in. Let it breathe. Let it be without fear.

For the first time in a long time, I don’t feel like I’m battling against time or destiny or my own feelings.

I feel like I’m doing business with these people.

By the time we left the office together that night, walking side by side rather than apart, I understood something startling.

This day had been about more than just business success. It was trust.

And as Leo’s hand grazes mine ever so briefly in the walk to the elevator, I know with a certainty that makes me want to throw up and jump for joy simultaneously…whatever is between us, now… whatever this is…

…it is real.”