The office building was sleek, modern, and slightly intimidating. Glass doors reflected the sunlight in a way that made Lila momentarily pause, adjusting her bag on her shoulder. Asher led the way with a confidence that made it hard not to follow, and for the hundredth time that morning, she felt that peculiar mix of nerves and excitement.
"You'll see," he said casually, as if he hadn't just walked her across a city and nearly made her sprint halfway through. "It's not a haunted castle. Although I can't promise there won't be paperwork ghosts."
Lila laughed, letting her bag slip from her shoulder to her side. "Good. Ghosts are fine as long as they're friendly."
The lobby was bright and minimalistic, the floors polished to a reflective sheen. Asher moved like he belonged, greeting a few people with quiet familiarity. She noticed their looks, curious, impressed, maybe a little amused at the tall man with the half-smile walking beside a petite girl who seemed oddly out of place.
"I hope this isn't too formal for you," Asher said as they rode the elevator, pressing the button for the 14th floor. "I know the outside world is more… charming."
"I'll survive," she replied, eyes scanning the mirrored walls.
The elevator dinged, and the doors slid open to a space that combined modern efficiency with subtle warmth. Potted plants softened the sharp edges, art hung on the walls, and through the floor-to-ceiling windows, Florence looked like a painting she could step into.
"Wow," Lila breathed. "It's… big."
"It is," Asher admitted. "And it's busy, but not chaotic. I like it that way. Helps me keep my sanity." He gestured toward a sleek desk where a few papers and devices were neatly arranged. "Come on, I'll show you around."
As they moved through the open office, Lila's eyes darted everywhere. She wasn't expecting grandeur, but there was a quiet elegance here—subtle, deliberate, like everything in Asher's life was measured yet effortless.
"Do you like it?" he asked, glancing at her.
"It's… impressive," she said honestly. "But also, oddly… approachable. Like, not intimidating."
"That's good," he said with a faint smile. "I'd hate for you to feel like you need a secret decoder ring just to survive in here."
She laughed again, a soft, easy sound that drew a look from him she nearly missed. His expression softened as he watched her take in the office.
They passed a small lounge area with a few couches and a coffee station, the aroma of roasted beans drifting in the air. She caught herself noticing the details—little touches that made the space feel human. A pair of framed sketches on the wall, a small succulent, a colorful rug under the coffee table.
"This is where the magic happens," Asher said, leaning against the edge of a counter. "I work on projects here, meet with my team, try to figure out ways to keep the company alive while occasionally questioning my life choices."
Lila's smile widened. "Sounds thrilling."
"It is," he said, mock-serious. "Very. Edge-of-your-seat stuff."
She laughed again. Each laugh felt like it released a little of the tension she'd carried all morning. Her heart was still fluttering from the chase down the street, from seeing him, from the simple fact of being here.
Asher noticed her glance at the sketches on the wall. "You really like your art" he said casually, nodding toward them.
"Yeah," she said, shrugging. "I like seeing how someone captures a moment, a feeling. Makes you feel like you're seeing their mind."
"Interesting," he murmured. He tilted his head slightly, curious, though he didn't press further.
"I like seeing what inspires people. What drives them. What their happiest moments look like."
Asher's eyes softened. "That's… insightful."
She looked down, shifting slightly. "So, what about you? What inspires you? Besides, obviously, work?"
His lips twitched into a small smile. "Travel. Cities. Random conversations on trains. Coffee shops like the one we were just at."
Her eyes widened slightly. "That's oddly specific."
"Not as oddly specific as your expression when you sketch," he said lightly, teasing without accusation.
She laughed again, brushing the moment aside. "You catch me staring sometimes. Maybe I've been taking notes."
"Careful," he warned with mock gravity. "You might accidentally sketch the wrong person."
"Or maybe the right one," she countered smoothly, her pulse quickening.
They continued down the hallway, and Asher stopped in front of a large conference room with glass walls. "This is where most of the planning happens," he said. "We brainstorm, run through proposals, argue about details. And yes, sometimes we argue over fonts."
"I always suspected fonts caused wars," she said, raising her eyebrows.
"Exactly," he said, laughing softly. "You get me."
She laughed too.
They moved back toward his office, a slightly more private space with a large desk and comfortable chairs. Through the window behind it, the city looked alive, vibrant, endless. Lila felt small in the best possible way—like she was being let into a world that could easily overwhelm her, but here, walking beside him, she felt included.
"Do you have meetings all day?" she asked, tilting her head as she followed him.
"Not today," he said. "Today is lucky. I get to show you the chaos."
She smirked. "And if I get bored?"
"You won't," he said with quiet confidence. "I'll find something to make you stay awake."
They paused at his door. He gestured for her to enter. "After you."
She stepped inside, letting her eyes linger on the details—the shelves lined with books, the framed photos of team events, a few tech prototypes on a side table.
"It's… impressive," she said again, soft and sincere. "Your space feels like you."
He leaned back slightly, smiling at her. "Wasn't my plan to boast, but thanks. I like showing it to people I trust… or at least, people I like."
She smiled, feeling a blush creep into her cheeks. "Wasn't in my plan to cross in Florence… but I'd be more than happy to be shown around."
He laughed, that rich, low sound that made her pulse beat faster. "Good. Let's start with the coffee machine—it's deceptively powerful."
And with that, they walked further into his office, the sunlight from the windows catching strands of her hair. Lila felt a thrill in the simplicity of it, the shared jokes, the comfortable silence in between laughter, and the knowledge that she had made the right choice.
Tomorrow, she had promised herself, she would continue to live in moments like this—carefree, human, full of possibility.
Even if she couldn't tell him everything.
Even if the clock was quietly counting down.
Even if fate had other plans.
For now, she would enjoy the tour, enjoy the laughter, and enjoy him.