Monday mornings were already cursed, but this one was on a whole new level. I had barely stepped into the office when the email hit:
**Subject:** Welcome Our New Branch Manager
**Body:** Please join us in welcoming Mr. Theo Anderson, who will be managing our branch operations starting today.
The email came with an attached photo—and of course he was as hot in it as he was when we first had a short introduction meeting.
Like, **annoyingly** hot. Dark hair swept back effortlessly, a strong jawline, intense green eyes that probably saw too much for someone who never had to work a day in his life, and the kind of smirk you'd slap off if it didn't also make your brain short-circuit.
"Ugh," I muttered at my screen.
Sarah, who'd dropped by to bring me coffee (and spy), peeked over my shoulder.
"Ooooh, is that the new manager?"
"Yes."
"Girl."
"What?"
"I hate how much I already want to climb that man like a jungle gym."
"You have a boyfriend."
"I didn't say I *would*, I said I *wanted to.* Let me live."
Before I could retort, a hush fell over the office. That was never a good sign.
I turned around, and there he was. In a tailored navy suit that looked like it cost more than my car, Theo Anderson walked in like he owned the place—which, technically, his family kinda did.
People stood. He smiled politely, shook a few hands. His voice was deep and smooth, the kind that could make a grocery list sound like seduction.
And then his eyes met mine. He paused. I didn't move.
Sarah whispered beside me, "This is either the start of a love story or a HR complaint."
He gave a slight nod and kept walking. I swore his eyes lingered just a second too long.
***
Later that afternoon, I was cornered in the breakroom by Jennifer Briggs, the reigning gossip queen of our department.
"So," she said, leaning in conspiratorially, "what do we think about Mr. Anderson?"
"We think he probably never had to fight a printer jam in his life."
Jennifer cackled. "Right? But tell me he's not fine."
"I'd rather not tell you anything. Gossip gives me hives."
"Buzzkill. Fine. But word is he requested this branch himself. Like, specifically."
I narrowed my eyes. "Why would someone request *our* branch? We're like… the minor leagues."
Jennifer shrugged. "I'm just saying. There's a story there. Mark my words."
***
By 5:00 p.m., I was ready to crawl into bed and question all my life choices. Instead, I had reports to finish. Which is exactly why I was the last person in the office when I saw Theo walking the floor.
"Burning the midnight oil?" he asked, stopping at my desk.
"I'm salaried. Which means I'm overworked and underpaid." I didn't even look up.
He chuckled. "Fair. I'm trying to get a feel for the team. You've been here awhile, right?"
I finally looked up. His eyes were even greener up close. Stupid genetics.
"Three years. Cyber security lead analyst. You?"
He leaned on the edge of my desk. "Technically? Since today. But I've been in the corporate world… reluctantly... my whole life."
I snorted. "Reluctantly?"
"My family owns the company. I grew up being groomed to take over. I asked to be stationed here so I could learn what it's like to build something myself."
I raised an eyebrow. "So, you're slumming it with us peasants to learn character?"
That earned a full laugh. It was warm and surprisingly genuine. "Exactly."
"Well, good luck. You'll need it. We eat managers alive here."
"I like a challenge."
He said it casually, but it sounded like a promise. Or a warning. Maybe both. Before he walked away, he glanced back.
"I didn't catch your name formally."
"Nilla Stone."
"Pretty name."
And then he was gone. I stared at my computer screen, wondering if I should feel irritated, intrigued, or concerned. Maybe all three. Sarah was going to scream when she heard about this.
It was the second time this week I found James hovering around my cubicle like a ghost that didn't know it was dead.
"Hey," he said, voice low like he thought he was still my secret.
"No," I said, not even turning to look at him.
"I didn't say anything yet."
"You didn't have to. You've been lurking for ten minutes, breathing like a creep."
He had the nerve to smile. "I just wanted to talk. That's not a crime."
"Harassment is. Go away."
"Come on, Nil. Don't be like that—"
"She said no," a deeper voice cut in.
James and I both turned. Theo stood there, arms crossed, sleeves rolled to his elbows like some casually dressed avenging angel.
James narrowed his eyes. "This doesn't concern you."
Theo's smile didn't reach his eyes. "It does when my employee tells you to leave her alone and you keep ignoring her. That's called workplace harassment, and *that* very much concerns me."
James looked like he wanted to punch something. Probably Theo. Unfortunately for him, Theo looked like he boxed for fun and played golf to relax after knocking someone out.
"I'm just trying to talk to her."
"And she's clearly not interested," Theo said, his tone cool and sharp. "So, unless you want to take this up with HR and legal, I suggest you walk away now."
James looked at me. I met his gaze flatly, with all the emotion of a rock. He finally backed off, muttering something under his breath as he turned. I let out a slow breath.
Theo looked at me. "You okay?"
"Honestly? Yeah. That was kind of hot. Not gonna lie."
He laughed, running a hand through his hair. "Protecting employees is just part of the job description. But I'll take the compliment."
"You looked like you were about to body slam him."
"Tempting."
"Thanks. Seriously."
"You don't have to thank me for doing the bare minimum."
"You'd be surprised how low the bar has been."
***
By the end of the day, I needed a drink and a long rant session. I texted Sarah, but she was caught up in a date night with her boyfriend. So I did what any emotionally fried adult woman would do—I went to a bar alone. I was halfway through my second drink when someone slid onto the stool beside me.
"Stalking's a hobby now?" I said without looking up.
"I prefer the term 'strategic concern,'" Theo said. "I saw you leave and figured you might want company. Or backup."
I sighed. "Don't tell me you're one of those 'I can't leave a woman alone at a bar' guys."
"No. I'm one of those 'James looked like he might do something stupid, and I didn't want you walking out alone' guys."
"Oh. Well, that's actually… thoughtful." I stared at my drink. "God, you're ruining my whole enemies-to-lovers fantasy."
He laughed. "I'm not trying to be your enemy."
"Well, tough. I've already labeled you as the rich man trope who's secretly sad on the inside."
He raised a brow. "Is he at least a good kisser in your fantasy?"
"Don't push your luck, Anderson."
We drank in silence for a moment.
"Do you come here often?" he finally asked.
"Did you really just use a pick-up line from a bad rom-com?"
"I'm gathering material. For research."
I looked at him, trying not to smile. "You're dangerously charming when you want to be."
"And you're terrifyingly good at pretending you don't like it."
I sipped my drink, meeting his gaze. "You're not wrong."
He leaned a little closer, his tone gentler now. "If you ever need someone to have your back again… I'm not going anywhere."
Something in my chest shifted.
Maybe this new chapter of my life wasn't going to be so bad after all.