Cynthia had survived a lot in her life — awkward interviews, and one very aggressive pigeon — but nothing compared to sitting beside Alexander Blackwood during a staff meeting.
He didn't say a word. He didn't have to.
His presence was enough to make everyone in the room sit straighter and breathe quieter.
Except Cynthia.
She yawned. Loudly.
Every head turned.
Alexander's eyebrow rose like a silent death threat.
"Am I boring you, Miss brooks?" he asked in that deep, calm tone that somehow made everything sound dangerous.
Cynthia blinked innocently. "No, sir. Just… oxygen deficiency. The room feels allergic to vibe"
A few people at the table tried not to laugh,but they did
Alexander's lips twitched. Just barely. "Noted. Next time, I'll have HR order extra vibe for you."
The meeting continued, and Cynthia tried to focus, she really did — until Alexander slid a file toward her and whispered,
"Take notes."
She flipped it open.
Inside was a doodle of a coffee cup with the words '2 sugars, not 3' written underneath.
She looked up, glaring. He didn't even glance at her — just continued speaking to the team as if nothing happened.
By the time the meeting ended, Cynthia was ready to strangle him with his designer tie.
But then, as everyone filed out, he said quietly, "You're improving."
She blinked. "At what? Not committing murder?"
"At surviving me," he said, smirking. "That's an achievement."
She crossed her arms. "You're really proud of being impossible, aren't you?"
He leaned close, his voice soft enough for only her to hear.
"It keeps things interesting."
And just like that — with one smirk and a low whisper — he walked out, leaving her heart in chaos and her notes completely blank.