Chapter four : Bad Timing, Worse Truths
I thought sleep would clear my head.
It didn't.
I woke up with a dull ache in my chest and the distinct memory of Kelvin's hand hovering near my cheek, his voice too soft, too real.
Are you ready now?
I wasn't. I didn't know how to be. Not with him standing that close. Not with five years of unspoken things pressing against my ribs.
Downstairs, the kitchen was already alive with familiar smells—bacon, coffee, cinnamon toast. The Carter family operated like a well-oiled machine on holiday mornings, and my mom was humming along with Mrs. Carter like nothing had ever fractured between us.
But everything had fractured. And not everyone had noticed.
"Morning," kelvin's voice called out just as I turned the corner.
He was already in the kitchen, barefoot, hair still slightly damp from a shower, flipping pancakes like we hadn't almost combusted around a fire pit last night.
"Morning," I muttered, heading for the coffee.
"I saved the last of the hazelnut creamer," he added. "Figured you were still a snob about your coffee."
I gave him a dry look but accepted it with a quiet, Thanks.
We moved around each other like planets in a too small orbit gravitational pull undeniable, collision inevitable.
Once the kitchen emptied out a little his parents outside, my mom FaceTiming my aunt Kelvin leaned against the island and said casually, "So. Work."
I raised a brow. "Is that what we're doing now? Small talk?". Better than saying things we probably shouldn't say before 9 a.m. Icouldn't argue with that.
He took a sip of his coffee, eyes skimming over me. "You said something last night about a job?"
I nodded. "Cavendish & Blake. I got an offer. Financial strategy consulting. Not exactly where I imagined ending up, but… it felt right."
He smiled into his mug like he was waiting for me to catch up."What?" I asked, suspicious.Nothing. Just… interesting choice."I guess? "And kind of funny."
I narrowed my eyes. "Why?"
He set his mug down and crossed his arms, still smiling. "Because I work there."
My stomach dropped. "You what?"
He looked far too pleased with himself. "I've been at Cavendish for two years now."
"You've got to be kidding me."
"I don't kid about corporate structures."
I blinked. "Okay, fine. So we'd be on the same floor or something?"
"Not exactly," he said, that smug smile never wavering.
I paused. "What do you mean 'not exactly'?"
He reached into the fruit bowl, grabbed a piece of toast, and casually said, "I'm the CFO."
I choked on my coffee.
"You're what?"
"Chief Financial Officer," he repeated, taking a bite. "You know. Numbers guy. Big desk. Fancy signature."
My jaw dropped. "That's your department?"
"Mmhm."
The room spun just a little. "So if I take this job "
"You'll be reporting directly to my team." He looked at me, cocking his head slightly. "To me, actually. For the first six months of the rotation."
I wanted to scream. Or laugh. Or both.
"You have got to be kidding me," I muttered.
"Surprise?" he offered, deadpan.
"This feels illegal."
"It's not," he said with a shrug. "Happens all the time. Especially if HR doesn't know there's… history."
"There's history."
"I'm aware."
I rubbed my temples. "You couldn't have warned me?"
"I didn't know until you said the company name yesterday," he said honestly. "But even if I had… would you have listened?"
I stared at him, heart pounding. "I don't know."
He stepped closer, his voice low. "I won't make it uncomfortable. I won't let it get messy. I'll be your boss, Anna. I can do that."
My pulse fluttered at boss. It shouldn't have.
"And what if I can't?" I whispered. "What if being near you again working for you is just another version of that night waiting to repeat itself?"
His eyes darkened, like he heard everything I wasn't saying.
"Then maybe we figure it out," he said. "Together this time. No secrets. No pretending."
I hated that my heart didn't argue.
Because if there was one thing more dangerous than sleeping with your best friend.....it was working for him while still wanting everything you were never supposed to.