The break room smelled faintly of coffee and powdered creamer, the low hum of the refrigerator filling the otherwise quiet space. Afternoon sunlight filtered weakly through the narrow glass window beside the sink, washing the room in a pale golden haze.
Denisse stood by the counter, absently stirring her coffee while her thoughts drifted somewhere far from work—back to lingering touches, quiet glances, and lips she could still almost feel against hers.
The sharp sound of the door bursting open made her look up immediately.
"There you are," Gigi said, slightly breathless as she stepped inside the break room. "I've been looking for you."
"Why?" Denisse asked, calmly stirring creamer into her coffee.
Gigi stared at her in disbelief. "Seriously?"
Denisse blinked innocently. "What?"
"Because you still owe me an explanation for what I witnessed last night."
"Last night?" Denisse repeated, feigning confusion. "Nothing happened last night. I think you were dreaming."
Gigi let out an offended scoff. "Oh, please, Denisse. That kiss with our CEO looked straight out of a movie."
"Gigi!" Denisse immediately shot her a sharp look. "Someone might hear you."
"What? Relax. There's literally no one here."
Denisse glanced around the empty break room before looking back at her. "You came all the way here just for that?"
"Yes!" Gigi said dramatically. "Do you know how hard it was for me to sleep after seeing that?"
Denisse groaned softly, already feeling heat crawl up her cheeks.
"I was traumatized," Gigi continued. "Confused. Emotionally invested."
"You're ridiculous."
"And yet you still haven't denied it."
Denisse shook her head, unable to stop the small smile tugging at her lips.
Gigi immediately caught it.
"Oh my God," she gasped dramatically. "So her lips are as soft as they look from afar?"
"Gigi!" Denisse's face flushed instantly.
Gigi leaned forward expectantly.
Denisse bit back another smile before muttering quietly, "…Yeah. Soft. And kind of addicting."
"I knew it!" Gigi nearly squealed. "You really hit the jackpot."
Denisse laughed softly, lowering her gaze toward her cup.
Then Gigi's expression shifted into something more mischievous.
"So…" she lowered her voice, "are you two dating now?"
The spoon in Denisse's hand slowed.
Then stopped completely.
Gigi blinked. "Wait. Don't tell me—"
"We're not dating," Denisse admitted softly.
"What?" Gigi stared at her. "What do you mean you're not dating? You two were literally making out in your apartment."
Denisse sighed lightly. "It just… happened. And we haven't really talked about whatever this is between us."
"What are you then? Friends with benefits?"
"No!" Denisse said immediately, looking almost offended. "I wouldn't call it that."
"But you're kissing, acting like that, and—" Gigi narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "Let me guess. You've already slept together too."
Denisse went silent.
The blush creeping across her cheeks answered enough on its own.
Gigi dropped back against the counter dramatically. "Oh my God."
Denisse buried part of her face behind her cup.
"Look," Gigi continued, her tone softening slightly, "I get it. She's insanely hot, rich, charismatic—basically unfair to society—but are you really okay with whatever this setup is?"
"No…" Denisse admitted quietly. "It's just that… we haven't had the chance to talk about what we are."
"Didn't she bring it up?"
Denisse shook her head once.
Gigi frowned. "Then why not ask her?"
Denisse hesitated.
"Oh," Gigi said slowly, realization dawning. "You're scared."
Denisse stayed quiet.
"Do you love her?"
The question landed harder than Denisse expected.
Her fingers tightened slightly around the warm cup.
"…I've fallen for her, Gi," she admitted softly.
Gigi's expression immediately softened.
"Then what's stopping you?"
Denisse let out a small breath, her eyes dropping to the coffee swirling faintly beneath the fluorescent lights.
"You know how we started," she murmured. "We were practically enemies."
"So?"
"So... it's hard to believe we ended up here at all." Denisse searched for the right words. "Sometimes I think she feels the same way when we're together. Like it's real for her too."
A faint, conflicted smile touched her lips before fading.
"And maybe that's enough for me right now."
Gigi frowned slightly but stayed quiet.
"I know we haven't defined anything," Denisse admitted. "And I know I should probably ask her what this really is." Her fingers tightened subtly around the cup. "But as long as I don't ask… I still get to have this."
Her voice softened further.
"I still get to be with her."
Silence settled briefly between them.
Then Gigi looked at her carefully.
"Or," she said gently, "you're scared you won't hear the answer you actually want."
Denisse didn't respond.
Because that hit far too close.
Gigi sighed and reached over to squeeze her arm gently. "Babe, I love you, okay? And I really want this to be real for you."
Her expression turned more serious.
"But you know Lesley Ashford's reputation. She doesn't exactly do serious relationships. And if you're already in love while she's just… enjoying this…"
The rest of the sentence didn't need to be finished.
Denisse felt the weight of it settle heavily in her chest.
Because Gigi wasn't wrong.
Maybe she had been avoiding the conversation too.
Not because she didn't want answers—
but because a part of her was terrified of what those answers might be.
Terrified that the warmth she'd been holding onto could disappear the moment reality finally caught up with them.
"Just… protect your heart a little too, okay?" Gigi said softly. "If this turns out to be a game for her, don't let yourself be the only one carrying real feelings."
Denisse could only nod quietly.
A notification suddenly buzzed from Gigi's phone, cutting through the heavy silence.
Gigi checked the screen and groaned. "Great. Mr. Davis is looking for me."
Denisse managed a small smile. "You should go."
Gigi stood, but paused before leaving.
"Please think about what I said."
Then she slipped out of the break room, leaving Denisse alone with her coffee and thoughts she suddenly couldn't silence anymore.
-
Not long after her break, Denisse was back at her station, quietly organizing a stack of documents while the office settled into its usual afternoon rhythm. The muted tapping of keyboards and distant ringing phones blended into the background, familiar and steady.
She had just finished sorting the last folder when the sound of heels caught her attention.
A woman with a confident stride passed by her desk without slowing, her presence sharp and purposeful as she headed straight for the CEO's office.
Denisse straightened immediately.
"Ma'am—"
But the woman didn't stop.
Lesley had made it very clear earlier that she didn't want to be disturbed by anyone except Denisse while she worked.
Denisse quickly stepped out from behind her station, intending to stop her, but she was already too late.
The office door swung open.
"Didn't Denisse tell you I'm not accepting visitors right now?" Lesley asked, lifting her eyes from the documents on her desk. Her expression remained composed, though the seriousness in her tone sharpened the air instantly.
"Oh, I didn't realize I needed your assistant's permission to see you," the woman replied smoothly.
Denisse stopped near the doorway, trying not to look as flustered as she felt. "I'm really sorry, Ms. Ashford. She walked past my station before I could stop her."
"It's okay, Denisse," Lesley said calmly.
Then she set the papers down and finally looked directly at the woman.
"What brings you here, Daphne? Our meeting for the contract isn't until later this week."
Daphne didn't answer immediately.
Instead, her gaze shifted toward Denisse, still standing quietly near the door.
"You can go now, Ms. Assistant."
The dismissal caught Denisse slightly off guard.
She was just about to step away when Lesley spoke again.
"No."
The single word landed cleanly in the room.
"Whatever reason you came here for, my assistant can stay and hear it."
Denisse caught the brief flicker of irritation that crossed Daphne's face before it disappeared beneath a polished smile.
"Fine," Daphne said lightly.
She walked toward the desk, heels clicking softly against the floor, then placed an elegant invitation in front of Lesley.
"Dad wanted me to personally invite you," she said. "It's for their wedding anniversary party."
Lesley barely glanced at the invitation before returning her attention to the documents she'd been reviewing moments ago.
"You came all the way here just for that?"
"Yes," Daphne answered smoothly. "And because I wanted to see you. It's been a while."
A faint smile curved her lips.
"Didn't you miss me?"
Denisse's brows lifted slightly at the boldness of it, though she quickly masked the reaction.
"No," Lesley replied without hesitation.
The answer came so quickly it almost startled Denisse more than the flirting itself.
"If there's nothing else related to business," Lesley continued evenly, "then I think you should go, Daphne. I'm very busy today."
"But I just got here."
"Denisse," Lesley said calmly, eyes already back on the papers in her hands, "please show Ms. Phillips out."
For a second, silence stretched tightly across the room.
Then Daphne let out a quiet scoff.
"Fine," she said, picking up her purse. "But we both know you can't resist me forever."
A smug little smirk appeared on her lips before she turned and walked out of the office.
Lesley didn't even look up.
The room fell quiet again after the door closed.
But Denisse remained standing there, strangely aware of the tight feeling settling low in her chest.
Not jealousy exactly.
At least, she tried not to call it that.
Still, one question lingered stubbornly in her mind—
Did she even have the right to feel this affected at all?