Alex Chen showed up at Blackwood Global unannounced on a Friday afternoon.
Isabella was at her desk, reviewing quarterly reports, trying not to think about the archive room, about Liam's fingers brushing hers, about his warning that his control was hanging by a thread.
"Ms. Hart," Alex's warm voice pulled her from her thoughts. "I hope I'm not interrupting."
Isabella looked up, surprised. "Mr. Chen. I wasn't aware we had a meeting scheduled—"
"We don't. I was in the building for another appointment and thought I'd stop by." Alex smiled—easy, charming, uncomplicated. "Actually, I was hoping to speak with you. Do you have a moment?"
Isabella glanced at Liam's closed office door. "Of course. What can I help you with?"
"Not here." Alex looked around at the open office space. "Maybe we could grab coffee? There's a café downstairs."
It was innocent enough. Professional. But something in Alex's expression suggested this wasn't entirely about business.
