The evening of Carter’s company event arrives quicker than I anticipated. I’ve been anxious all day, weighing whether it’s worth attending, but his casual invitation—and the thought that it might be "good for business"—keeps replaying in my mind. As I step into the venue, I take a deep breath to steady myself. The atmosphere is electric, the crowd glamorous, exactly what I’d expect from Dane Media. I scan the room and almost immediately spot Carter—hard to miss with the throng of admirers surrounding him, all casting admiring glances his way. He’s in his element, calm, suave, and completely at ease. And while I’m here “for business,” I can’t help but feel a twinge of something else as I watch the way people gravitate toward him. It’s frustrating to realize how effortlessly he can stir feelings in me just by being himself. Yet, I maintain my distance, engaging in polite small talk with other executives and checking my phone more often than necessary. I’m trying to ignore him, but it’s a losing battle. My gaze keeps drifting back to where he stands, laughing easily with a group that seems utterly captivated by him. I can’t help it—a familiar ache twists in my chest, and I mentally chastise myself. This is a business event, nothing more. Eventually, he catches my eye, holding my gaze from across the room, and a slight smirk plays on his lips. The look he gives me—so pointed, so knowing—sends a warm flush up my neck. He excuses himself from his group and starts making his way over. “Enjoying yourself?” he asks, his tone a familiar blend of teasing and something more profound. "Of course," I reply, trying to sound casual, though my heart races. "I see you’re the life of the party as always." He chuckles softly. "The crowd’s fine, but... there are far more interesting people to talk to." He gives me a look that feels too intimate, and suddenly, the noisy room fades away, leaving just the two of us.  

We talk, savoring each other’s company, our conversation flowing through light topics and brushing against deeper ones. I lose track of time until I notice the crowd beginning to thin, the event gradually coming to a close.

As the night draws to a close, Carter insists on walking me to my car. I should argue against it, but I don’t. The atmosphere between us feels electric, heavy with unspoken words. When we reach my car, he stops, his face difficult to read.

“Tonight was... a good reminder,” he says softly, his eyes locked on mine. "That maybe we shouldn’t rush to label what this is. Or isn’t."

A chill runs through me at his words. I open my mouth to reply, but the response gets stuck, tangled in feelings I’m not ready to confront—not even within myself. So instead, I offer a polite, somewhat distant smile and say, “Goodnight, Carter,” before slipping into my car.

As I drive away, the truth I’ve been trying to ignore tugs at me. I came here for business, but somewhere along the way, it turned into something more. And I’m not sure I can go back to pretending it didn’t happen.