The elevator doors closed.
Jay leaned against the wall and let out a breath she didn't know she was holding.
You. I mean—your company.
She laughed to herself. The great Keifer Watson. CEO of Watson Enterprises. Cold eyes. Sharp jaw. And he couldn't even finish a sentence around her.
Cute.
But no. She shook her head. This was business. He was the enemy. A stuck-up, ice-cold, too-handsome-for-his-own-good enemy.
Her phone buzzed.
Keifer: Your proposal draft has mistakes. Fix it.
She stared at the message. Then typed back:
Jay: My proposal is fine. Read it again. Slowly this time.
Keifer: I read it twice. It's wrong.
Jay: Then read it three times. Maybe the problem is your reading skills.
Keifer: Maybe the problem is your writing skills.
Jay: Maybe the problem is YOU.
Keifer: Maybe.
Jay blinked at the screen. Was he... agreeing? Or being sarcastic? With him, she couldn't tell.
She shoved her phone in her bag. Whatever. Let him be annoying.
The next two weeks were hell.
Every meeting was a battle. Every email was a war.
Keifer would send a note: Page 4, paragraph 2. Wrong numbers.
Jay would reply: Page 7, entire section. Wrong attitude.
He'd show up to meetings five minutes early just to watch her walk in. She'd show up five minutes late just to annoy him.
He'd make pointed comments about her company's weaknesses. She'd fire back with his company's failures.
Their families watched from the sidelines, entertained.
"Another fight?" Keizer asked one evening, watching Keifer storm into the house, throwing his keys on the table.
"She's impossible," Keifer muttered.
Keizer grinned at his wife Serina. "He's in love."
"I am NOT in love," Keifer snapped. "I'm in WAR."
Serina smiled calmly. "Same thing, baby. Same thing."
At the Mariano house, Jay was pacing in the living room.
"He's the most frustrating person on the planet," she ranted. "He acts like he's better than everyone. Like he's made of ice and doesn't feel anything."
Aries sat on the couch, eating chips. "Sounds like you think about him a lot."
"I think about how much I HATE him."
"Same thing," Aries said, mouth full.
Jay threw a pillow at him.
Percy walked in, phone in hand, smiling like an idiot.
"Who's that?" Jay asked, grateful for a distraction.
Percy's face went red. "No one."
"Let me guess. Honey?"
Percy shoved his phone in his pocket. "She's just... helping me with something. For work."
"Sure," Jay and Aries said together.
Percy fled again.
The breaking point came at a dinner meeting.
Both families. One long table. Fancy restaurant. Forced smiles.
Keifer sat across from Jay. She wore black. He wore gray. They matched without meaning to.
"So," Keizer said loudly, "how's the merger planning going?"
"Slow," Jay said, glaring at Keifer.
"Because someone keeps changing things," Keifer said, glaring back.
"Because someone keeps getting things WRONG."
"I don't get things wrong."
"Then explain why you sent back my marketing proposal THREE times."
"Because it was bad three times."
Jay's jaw dropped. "It was NOT bad. It was innovative. You just don't understand innovation."
"I understand numbers. Your numbers don't add up."
"Your face doesn't add up."
Everyone went quiet.
Keifer stared at her. "My... face?"
Jay's cheeks burned. She didn't mean to say that. "I meant... your... never mind."
Keifer's lips twitched. Just barely. "My face doesn't add up. That's your comeback?"
"Shut up."
"You first."
"You're insufferable."
"You're impossible."
"Daddy," Keiren whispered to Keizer, "are they fighting or flirting?"
Keizer patted his head. "Both."
After dinner, Jay stood outside waiting for her car. The night air was cold. She wrapped her arms around herself.
A jacket landed on her shoulders.
She turned. Keifer stood there, hands in his pockets, looking everywhere but at her.
"You'll freeze," he said simply.
"I'm fine."
"You're shivering."
"I don't need your jacket."
"Didn't ask if you needed it. Just gave it."
She stared at him. He stared at the ground.
"Whatever," she muttered, pulling the jacket tighter. It smelled like him. Clean. Expensive. Annoying.
"Your marketing proposal," he said quietly. "The third version. It wasn't bad."
Jay blinked. "What?"
He finally looked at her. Those icy eyes, softer now in the dim light. "The numbers were off. But the ideas were good. I shouldn't have said it was bad."
"Did you just... compliment me?"
"Don't get used to it."
A smile tugged at her lips. "Wouldn't dream of it."
Their eyes held for a moment too long.
Then her car pulled up.
She handed back his jacket. "Thanks. For... this."
He nodded once. "Fix the numbers."
And just like that, the moment was gone.
Jay got in the car, heart racing.
I hate him, she told herself.
But the words felt hollow now.