Chapter 83 Chapter 83
Chapter 83
Celine arrived at the office earlier than usual. The crisp morning air brushed against her face as she walked toward the building. She clutched her tote bag close, heart beating a little faster than normal. Today felt different.
The messages from HR the night before had kept her awake longer than she liked, turning over the words in her head until sleep finally came. Now that the day was here, excitement and nerves mixed together in her stomach.
She stepped into the lobby, nodded politely at the receptionist, and headed straight for HR. Ms. Lianne was already waiting, folder in hand, smiling like she had good news she couldn’t wait to share.
“Celine! Good morning,” Ms. Lianne said. “Come in, come in. I’ve been looking forward to this.”
“Good morning,” Celine answered, voice quieter than she meant it to be. “What’s going on?”
Ms. Lianne handed her the folder. “Open it.”
Celine’s fingers shook a little as she lifted the cover. The promotion letter sat there, typed neatly, company seal stamped at the bottom. She read the title once, then again, like the words might disappear if she blinked.
“You’re serious?” she whispered.
“Completely serious,” Ms. Lianne said, smile widening. “The position is official. Mr. Castellan approved it personally. He said he needed someone reliable, someone who already knew how things worked here, and your name came up first. Congratulations, Celine. You earned this.”
Celine’s eyes stung. She blinked hard, but a tear slipped out anyway. Then another. She laughed under her breath, embarrassed, and wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand.
“I don’t even know what to say,” she managed. “Thank you. Thank you so much. I won’t let anyone down, I promise.”
“You’ve never let anyone down,” Ms. Lianne replied. “Your new desk is on the fourth floor—same level, just a better setup now that the renovation’s done. You’ll have your own space, new equipment, and a lot more responsibility. But also more room to grow. Ethan wanted you closer in the workflow. Makes coordination easier, he said.”
Celine’s stomach did a small flip at his name. She tried to keep her face neutral, but she felt the warmth climb into her cheeks.
“Closer?” she repeated softly.
Ms. Lianne nodded. “Come on, I’ll show you.”
They walked together through the hallways. Celine’s steps felt lighter, almost bouncy. She kept picturing the new space in her head, wondering what it would look like, wondering—though she tried not to—how close “closer” really meant.
When they reached the fourth floor, Celine stopped in the doorway.
Everything looked brand new. Desks were sleek and polished, monitors large and clear, chairs looked comfortable instead of worn. The lighting was bright but soft, not the old fluorescent buzz she was used to. Stationery sat neatly arranged on every surface. It felt open, modern, like the kind of place people actually wanted to spend eight hours in.
And then she saw her desk.
Right near the window. Sunlight spilled across the surface. The chair was already adjusted to her height—she could tell just by looking. A new laptop waited, screen off but power cord neatly coiled. A small stack of notepads, pens, a planner. Everything clean and ready.
Her eyes drifted sideways.
Ethan’s desk wasn’t far. Not right next to hers, but close enough that she could walk over in three steps if she needed to hand him something. His monitor was on, screen dark for now. Papers stacked in the careful way he always did. Chair pushed in. It looked… normal. Approachable. Not the distant, glass-walled office he used to disappear into.
“This is mine?” she asked, almost too quiet to hear.
“All yours,” Ms. Lianne said. “Take your time settling in. Your first files are already in the shared drive—Ethan started them yesterday. You’ll pick up where he left off. He’ll be around if you have questions, but this is your space to run with.”
Celine walked over slowly. She set her tote bag down, ran her fingers across the desk. Smooth wood. Cool to the touch. She pulled the chair out and sat. It fit her perfectly. She opened the laptop. The screen woke up bright and fast. She smiled without meaning to.
Ms. Lianne patted her shoulder. “I’ll leave you to it. If anything’s missing, just let me know. You’ve got this.”
“Thank you,” Celine said again. She meant it.
Once Ms. Lianne left, Celine let out a long breath. She looked around the room again. Empty for now—most people hadn’t arrived yet. Just her and the quiet hum of the building waking up.
Her gaze landed on Ethan’s desk once more.
She felt something stir in her chest. Not big. Not loud. Just… there. Being this close meant more meetings, more quick questions, more chances to work side by side. It was professional. Practical. That’s what he’d said. Still, the thought made her smile a little wider than it should have.
She shook her head at herself and opened the first file.
The morning passed in a blur of new logins, folder organization, and reading through project notes. Every so often she glanced toward his empty chair. She wondered what time he usually came in. She wondered if he’d noticed the change yet.
Around nine-thirty the elevator dinged.
Ethan stepped out.
He reached the fourth floor and paused just inside the doorway. His eyes moved across the room—taking in the new layout, the clean lines, the way everything looked sharper and brighter than before. Then his gaze settled on her.
Celine.
She was bent over her laptop, arranging a few papers beside it, movements careful and focused. She didn’t see him right away. He watched the way she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, the small crease between her brows when she read something closely. She looked happy. Settled. Like the desk already belonged to her.
He felt something pull tight inside him. Not pain. Just awareness. Stronger than he expected.
He took one step forward, then stopped himself. Old habits kicked in—shoulders back, expression calm, the usual distance he kept with everyone. But it didn’t feel the same. Not today.
Celine glanced up.
Their eyes met.
" Good morning Mr castellan" she said bowing.
" Morning " he replied his eyes couldn't get off her.
Her cheeks went pink almost instantly. A tiny smile curved her mouth before she looked back at her screen, pretending to be very interested in whatever was on it.
Ethan cleared his throat—more out of habit than necessity—and walked to his desk. He set his bag down, pulled his chair out, sat. From here he could see her without staring. The angle was perfect for work conversations. Terrible for pretending he wasn’t paying attention.
He opened his laptop. Tried to focus.
It didn’t last.
Every few minutes his eyes slid sideways. He watched her type, watched her pause to think, watched her nod to herself when something clicked. Once she caught him looking. She froze for half a second, then gave a quick, shy nod and went back to her work.
He looked away fast, cheeks warm.
He opened the same file she was in. Read the same paragraph three times without absorbing a word.
Around ten she stood up, walked over with a printout in her hand.
“Hi,” she said softly. “I think I found the discrepancy in the Q3 numbers you flagged yesterday. Can I show you?”
He nodded. “Yeah. Come here.”
She leaned over his shoulder—just enough to point at the screen. Her arm brushed his sleeve. Barely. He still felt it everywhere.
“Here,” she said. “This column didn’t carry over properly from the export. I cross-checked it with the raw data.”
He looked where she pointed. She was right.
“Good catch,” he said. His voice came out quieter than usual. “Fix it and I’ll sign off.”
She smiled—small, real. “Okay. Thanks.”
She went back to her desk.
He watched her walk away. Watched her sit down, open the file again, start typing. Watched the way she bit her lip when she concentrated.
He rubbed a hand over his face.
Get it together, he told himself.
But he didn’t.
The rest of the day went like that. Small exchanges. Quick questions. A shared look when something funny came up in a report. Every time she spoke to him her voice was steady, professional, but there was a warmth under it now. Like she felt comfortable here.
Ethan loved every bit of it
When five o’clock came, Celine started packing up. She slid her laptop into the sleeve, gathered her notes, zipped her bag.
She glanced over at him.
“Goodnight me castellan,” she said.
“Goodnight ,” he answered.
She hesitated. “Thanks again. For… everything. The promotion. The space. It means a lot.”
He met her eyes. Held them.
“You earned it,” he said. Simple. Honest.
She smiled—bigger this time—and walked toward the elevator.
He stayed at his desk a few minutes longer, staring at the spot where she’d been sitting.
The cha
ir was still pushed back a little. A pen lay on the desk where she’d left it. The sunlight had shifted, catching the edge of her monitor.
He leaned back in his own chair.
For the first time in years the office didn’t feel like just a place to work.
It felt like somewhere he wanted to be.