Chapter 12 Circling Each Other
Elena's POV
Wednesday Morning
"Victoria's brother is starting today," Jenna said, refilling her coffee. "Officially, I mean. He'll have the office down the hall."
I looked up from organizing files. "The one from yesterday's meeting?"
"Alexander Thorne. The golden boy himself." Jenna's tone was neutral, but her expression suggested complicated feelings. "He's been in London for three years doing his master's. Now he's back to learn the business from the inside."
"Lucky him."
"Lucky us, more like. Word is he's demanding as Victoria but doesn't have her people skills."
"She has people skills?"
Jenna laughed. "Fair point. But at least Victoria is consistent. Alexander's an unknown quantity. Could be great, could be a nightmare."
The elevator dinged.
He stepped out—Alexander Thorne, looking less exhausted than yesterday. Dark suit, perfect haircut, carrying a briefcase like he owned the building. Which, technically, his family did.
He walked past our desks without a word, heading for Victoria's office.
But his eyes flicked to me for just a second.
That same unsettling feeling from yesterday washed over me. Like I should know him but didn't.
I shook it off and returned to work.
An hour later, Victoria's office door opened. She emerged with Alexander behind her.
"Elena."
I stood. "Yes?"
"Alexander needs access to the system. Set him up with login credentials, show him the shared drives, basic orientation."
My stomach dropped. "I—of course."
Alexander's expression was unreadable. Professional. Cold, even.
But his eyes were intense, studying me like I was a puzzle he was trying to solve.
"Actually," he said, voice carefully neutral, "I was hoping Elena could walk me through some of the ongoing projects. Get me up to speed on what I've missed."
Victoria's eyes narrowed slightly. "Elena is my assistant, not yours."
"I understand. I just thought—"
"If you want orientation, ask Jenna. She's been here longer, knows the projects better."
"Right. Of course." He didn't argue, but something flickered across his face. Frustration? Disappointment?
Victoria turned to me. "Credentials only. Then get back to work."
"Yes, Victoria."
She disappeared back into her office. Alexander stood there, clearly dismissed but not leaving.
Finally, he looked at me. "So. Credentials?"
"This way."
I led him down the hall to his new office—smaller than Victoria's but still impressive. Floor-to-ceiling windows, modern furniture, the smell of new carpet.
"Your login information," I said, pulling up the system on his computer. "Username is athorne, password is temporary—you'll need to change it on first login."
"Got it."
I typed quickly, setting up his access. "Shared drives are here. Company files, project folders, everything's organized by department and date."
"And if I have questions?"
"Ask Jenna. Or Victoria."
"Not you?"
I looked up. He was watching me with that same intense focus.
"I work for Victoria. Jenna can help you better."
"Right. Of course." He didn't move.
Neither did I.
The silence stretched, uncomfortable and charged with something I couldn't name.
"Is there anything else?" I asked finally.
"No. Thank you."
I left before he could say anything more.
Back at my desk, Jenna raised an eyebrow. "That was quick."
"Just login credentials."
"He didn't try to keep you longer?"
"Why would he?"
"Because you're pretty and he's a Thorne, and Thornes are used to getting what they want." She shrugged. "Just warning you. Rich guys like him? They don't hear 'no' very often."
"I didn't say no. I just... did my job and left."
"Good. Keep it that way." Jenna returned to her screen. "Trust me, getting involved with a Thorne is a recipe for disaster."
I had no intention of getting involved with anyone, let alone Alexander Thorne.
But something about the way he'd looked at me...
No. I was imagining things.
I focused on work and tried to forget his eyes.
Alexander's POV
She'd left so quickly I barely had time to process.
I sat at my new desk, staring at the login screen, replaying every second of the interaction.
Professional. Efficient. Completely impersonal.
No recognition. No warmth. Nothing.
Either she genuinely didn't remember me, or she was an incredible actress.
I changed my password, pulled up the shared drives, tried to focus on work.
The files were overwhelming—hundreds of projects, deals, contracts. I should have been reading, learning, catching up.
Instead, I found myself staring at the door, listening for her voice in the hallway.
This was pathetic.
I was pathetic.
An hour passed. I forced myself to read reports, take notes, act like a functioning professional.
At noon, I heard movement outside—chairs scraping, voices. I stepped out of my office.
Elena was standing at her desk, pulling on her jacket.
"Lunch?" Jenna was asking.
"Thursday is tacos, remember? Today I'm just grabbing something quick."
"Want company?"
"I'm okay. Thanks though."
She headed for the elevator.
I don't know what possessed me, but I followed.
Not obviously. I waited until she was in the elevator, then took the stairs down, arriving in the lobby just as she exited.
She walked out onto the street, and I kept a careful distance, feeling like a stalker but unable to stop.
She went to a small deli three blocks away, ordered a sandwich, paid in cash. Sat at a table by the window, pulled out her phone.
I watched from across the street, hidden behind a newsstand.
She ate quickly, mechanically, like food was just fuel. Checked her phone constantly. After fifteen minutes, she packed up and walked back.
I followed again, made sure I was in the building before her.
When I got back to my office, I felt disgusted with myself.
What was I doing? Following her like some kind of creep?
But I couldn't help it. Every glimpse felt like a clue, a piece of the puzzle I couldn't solve.
Who was she now? What had happened in three years? Why was she working here?
And why couldn't I just ask?
Because Victoria had warned me off. Because Elena clearly didn't want to talk to me. Because I had no right to demand answers about a night she probably didn't even remember.
I sat at my desk and tried to work.
But my mind kept circling back.
That night. Her laugh. The way she'd looked at me.
And now—nothing. Like I'd imagined it all.
Maybe I had.
Maybe I'd built it up in my head, made it more than it was.
One night. That's all it had been.
Why couldn't I let it go?
Elena's POV
Thursday
Taco day.
Natalie texted at eleven-thirty: Still on for lunch?
Yes. Twelve sharp.
Bring your appetite. Marcus is buying.
I smiled despite everything. Thursday tacos had become the highlight of my week—forty-five minutes of not being Victoria's assistant, just being Elena.
At noon, Victoria left for her standing lunch meeting. I grabbed my jacket and met Natalie at the elevator.
"Ready?" she asked.
"Always."
We rode down together, chatting about nothing important. Marcus and Simone were already at the taco truck when we arrived.
"There she is," Marcus said. "We ordered you the usual."
"You're a saint."
We sat on our usual bench, tacos in hand, sun warming our faces.
"So," Simone said, "anyone else notice Victoria's brother is back?"
"Hard to miss," Natalie said. "He's been skulking around the executive floor like a gorgeous, brooding ghost."
"Gorgeous?" Marcus raised an eyebrow.
"Come on, you've seen him. The man looks like he walked out of a cologne ad."
I bit into my taco, saying nothing.
"Elena works on his floor," Simone said. "What's he like?"
All eyes turned to me.
I swallowed, buying time. "Professional. Quiet. Barely talked to him."
"But you've seen him, right?" Natalie pressed.
"Once or twice."
"And?"
"And nothing. He's just another executive."
"Just another executive," Natalie repeated, clearly not believing me. "Elena, the man is stupid hot and Rich. You didn't notice?"
"I was busy working."
"You're always busy working," Marcus said. "When's the last time you did something fun?"
"I have a two-year-old. Fun is making it through the day without a tantrum."
"His or yours?" Simone asked.
"Both."
They laughed, and the conversation shifted to other topics. But I felt Natalie watching me, curious.
After lunch, walking back to the building, she fell into step beside me.
"You okay?"
"Fine. Why?"
"You seem... I don't know. Tense lately."
"It's just work. Victoria keeps me on my toes."
"It's not just work." She stopped, making me stop too. "Elena, I know we haven't known each other long, but if something's wrong, you can talk to me. You know that, right?"
The offer was tempting. God, it was tempting.
But I couldn't. Couldn't tell her about Felicia, about the threats, about the constant fear of exposure.
Couldn't tell anyone.
"I'm okay. Really. Just tired."
Natalie didn't look convinced, but she let it go. "Okay. But the offer stands."
"Thank you."
We rode the elevator up in silence.
When the doors opened on the fifty-third floor, Alexander Thorne was standing there, clearly waiting for the elevator down.
We nearly collided.
"Sorry," I said automatically, stepping aside.
"My fault." His voice was low, careful.
Our eyes met for a second—just a second—and that feeling hit me again. Familiar. Unsettling.
Then Natalie pulled me past him, and the moment broke.
"Was that him?" she whispered as we walked to our desks.
"Who?"
"Alexander Thorne. God, he's even better up close."
"I didn't notice."
"Liar."
I ignored her and sat at my desk, pulling up Victoria's schedule.
But I could feel him behind me, still standing at the elevator.
Still watching.
I forced myself not to turn around.
The elevator dinged. Doors opened. Closed.
When I finally glanced back, he was gone.
I exhaled slowly.
Why did he keep looking at me like that?
And why did it make my heart race?
Alexander's POV
Friday
A week. I'd been back for a week, and I was no closer to understanding.
Elena avoided me without being obvious about it. When I passed her in the hallway, she'd nod politely. When I asked her a work question—which I did, deliberately, ignoring Victoria's warning—she'd answer concisely and leave.
Professional. Detached. Unreadable.
It was driving me insane.
Friday afternoon, I found an excuse. A file I needed that happened to be on Victoria's shared drive. I could have asked Jenna.
I asked Elena instead.
She was at her desk, typing rapidly. I approached, and she looked up.
"Can I help you?"
"I need access to a file. The Morrison contracts. Jenna said it's in Victoria's folder, but I don't have permissions."
"I can send it to you."
"Or you could show me where it is, so I know for next time."
She hesitated, clearly wanting to refuse but unable to without being rude.
"Fine. One moment."
She stood, walked to my office with me following. Professional distance maintained, no unnecessary conversation.
At my computer, she pulled up the drive structure. "Morrison Consulting is under Client Files, then M, then the specific contract year. Anything before 2023 is archived."
"Got it."
She turned to leave.
"Elena."
She stopped but didn't turn around. "Yes?"
Just ask her. Just say it: Do you remember me?
But the words wouldn't come.
"Nothing. Thank you."
She left without another word.
I sat at my desk, frustrated beyond measure.
This couldn't continue. I couldn't keep circling around her, hoping for... what? Recognition? Acknowledgment?
I needed a plan. A way to talk to her without Victoria's interference, without making it obvious.
But how?
My phone buzzed. A text from Victoria: My office. Now.
I walked down the hall, knocked once, entered.
Victoria was at her desk, expression stern.
"Sit."
I sat.
"What do you want from my assistant.?"
"I've asked her a few work questions—"
"You've been finding excuses to interact with her. Stop."
"I'm just trying to learn the systems—"
"From Jenna. That's why I suggested her." Victoria leaned forward. "Alexander, Elena works for me, she's good at her job, and I won't have you making her uncomfortable."
"I'm not—"
"You are. She hasn't said anything, but I can see it. You find excuses to approach her. You followed her to lunch yesterday."
My stomach dropped. "You saw that?"
"I see everything." Her voice was cold. "Whatever this is, end it. Elena is off-limits. Do you understand?"
I wanted to argue. To explain. To tell Victoria that this wasn't some casual interest, that I had history with Elena even if she didn't remember.
But I couldn't. Not without revealing things I wasn't ready to reveal.
"Understood."
"Good." She returned to her computer, dismissing me.
I left, jaw clenched, frustrated and trapped.
Victoria was right. I was making Elena uncomfortable. And I needed to stop.
But I couldn't.
Not until I knew.
Not until I understood.
One way or another, I'd get my answers.
Even if it killed me.