Chapter 50 Cold Front
Elena's POV
The morning after the restaurant, I told myself I wouldn't care.
I told myself I'd walk into the office, smile, and handle the day like it was any other.
But the moment I stepped into the building and saw them - Damian at his desk, Rachael standing beside him with a stack of files - I felt the lie unravel.
They were too close.
Not inappropriate, not yet, but close enough that it looked like comfort. Like habit.
"Good morning, Ms. Grant," Rachael greeted, polite, professional, not a trace of guilt in her voice.
"Morning," I said smoothly, setting my bag down. "I trust you both had a productive evening."
Her head tilted, just slightly. "We did. A few project discussions over dinner."
I smiled, sharp and brief. "Of course. You're very dedicated."
Damian looked up then - that same unreadable calm in his eyes.
If he was uncomfortable, he hid it well. But there was a flicker, just there - one I caught before he could mask it.
The room went quiet. Only the hum of the air conditioning filled the silence.
I turned to my screen, pretending to check emails. Pretending not to notice the way he leaned slightly toward her when he spoke.
Every word between them sounded light, but my pulse didn't believe it.
By ten, the boardroom was filled. Quarterly review. I sat across from Damian, directly in his line of sight, because I refused to give ground.
Rachael stood beside him, flipping through her notes, efficient as ever. When someone asked a question, Damian didn't answer immediately - he turned to her instead.
"Rachael?"
The way he said her name - casual, but too familiar - drew a few glances from around the table.
She handled it perfectly, explaining projections with calm precision. When she finished, Damian smiled faintly.
"Excellent work."
The words hung in the air, directed at her but heavy enough to hit me too.
I kept my expression neutral. Inside, something twisted.
"Ms. Meyer's been a great addition to the team," one of the board members said. "You've got a good eye for talent, Elena."
I forced a polite smile. "She's certainly exceeded expectations."
My tone was even. My nails dug into my palm beneath the table.
When the meeting ended, I lingered to gather my notes, watching from the corner of my eye as Damian leaned close to say something to Rachael - low enough that no one else heard.
She laughed softly, that same unguarded sound I'd heard last night.
I walked out before I could stop myself, heels clicking too sharply against the marble.
Back in my office, I shut the door and exhaled. My reflection in the glass stared back - composed, polished, professional.
But my hands trembled when I reached for my pen.
Damian's POV
The air in the office felt colder than usual.
Maybe it was the AC. Or maybe it was Elena.
She'd been quiet all morning - too quiet - and I knew that look. I'd seen it before, back when we were still something.
It wasn't anger. It was control stretched thin.
Every time I caught her gaze, I saw it - that brief flash before the mask returned.
And Rachael... she tried to pretend she didn't notice. But I could tell she felt it too. The way Elena's compliments came wrapped in glass, the way her words had edges now.
In the meeting, I'd complimented Rachael without thinking - reflex. She deserved it.
But the moment the words left my mouth, I saw Elena's jaw tighten.
She didn't speak after that. Just watched.
When the meeting ended, I told myself not to follow her. Not to make things worse.
But by noon, I found myself outside her office anyway, holding a report I didn't need to deliver in person.
She looked up when I entered, expression blank.
"Yes?"
"I wanted to clarify the timeline for the Houston project," I said.
"You could've emailed."
I hesitated. "I thought it'd be easier to discuss in person."
Her pen clicked once, sharp. "Then discuss."
There it was - the wall, freshly built, perfectly cold.
"Elena," I started carefully, "you don't have to-"
"Don't what?" she interrupted, eyes narrowing. "Assume anything? Notice things? Be human?"
"Be unfair," I said quietly.
Her mouth twitched, almost a smile. "Unfair? That's rich, coming from you."
Before I could respond, someone knocked.
Rachael stepped in, holding a document. "Mr. Cross, the vendor proposal-oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize-"
Elena stood smoothly. "No, please. Come in. We were just... clarifying timelines."
Her tone was polite. Too polite.
Rachael glanced between us, tension crackling. "Right. I'll just leave this here."
The door closed behind her.
Elena didn't speak again. Neither did I.
But as I turned to leave, I caught her reflection in the glass - still, poised, but her eyes... her eyes were fire under ice.