Chapter Five (Green-Eyed Monster)

Clarissa Morgan

Clarissa felt a presence over her shoulder just moments before Ms. Dandridge’s clipped voice sliced through her trance.

“Are you planning to finish that any time soon?”

Startled, Clarissa slipped her headphones off and snapped her gaze to the older woman, who was frowning down at her. Heat crept up her neck. Not the best start for her first assignment. There was no missing the faint look of irritation—and maybe suspicion—etched into Ms. Dandridge’s face. She had already made it clear that Clarissa wasn’t her first pick for the role and seemed to be waiting for the slightest excuse to remind her of it. Clarissa took a breath, adjusted herself in her seat, and tried to look busy. She could still hear Steve’s rich, confident voice through her headphones, though, lingering there like a secret.

Ever since the elevator incident that morning, she could barely focus. Her thoughts kept drifting back to the closeness, his magnetic presence—and the kiss. It was ridiculous, really. They’d hardly exchanged more than a few polite words before, but somehow, she couldn’t shake the memory of his touch. And hearing his voice just now during the call… it had unsettled her all over again.

Swallowing, she squared her shoulders and tried to pull herself together. She’d promised herself she would stay professional, focus on her work. It was just a kiss, after all. She was about to head back to her desk when she overheard Ms. Dandridge’s voice soften, a rare moment. She sounded… friendly?

Curious, Clarissa glanced over just in time to catch sight of the woman who had just entered. Tall, elegant, and poised, she looked like someone who belonged in Steve’s orbit. Janice. Her name was spoken with a warm familiarity that Clarissa couldn’t miss, and from the look of her designer clothes and polished demeanor, she clearly carried a confidence that came with privilege. Dandridge’s tone was positively affectionate as they exchanged pleasantries, the older woman’s formal smile stretching almost to the point of warmth.

“I only wish Steve could have come along with me. Speaking of which—” Janice’s voice had that effortless, honeyed quality that made it clear she was accustomed to getting what she wanted. “Is he free?”

Ms. Dandridge nodded and gestured toward his office, confirming that he was available. Clarissa watched as Janice strode confidently down the hall, disappearing behind Steve’s door without a second glance. Her heart sank. It wasn’t lost on her that someone like Janice was a far more natural match for him—glamorous, sophisticated, and entirely unflustered by his attention.

Steeling herself, Clarissa tried to shake off her earlier lapse in focus. It was painfully obvious now how little she had in common with Janice and the women who naturally inhabited Steve’s world. She took a deep breath, adjusted her headphones, and resolved to get on with her work, fingers flying over the keyboard. Her fantasies could wait.

Steve Damon

Steve Damon prided himself on one thing: he kept his business dealings strictly professional. The idea of entangling himself with a subordinate was something he’d never entertained. But there was something about Clarissa Morgan that unnerved him, that struck a chord he wasn’t ready to play. Since the day he’d laid eyes on her—since that kiss in the elevator that he’d rationalized as “calming her nerves”—he’d been uncharacteristically distracted. He was already off course. His original plan had been straightforward: bring her onto his team, keep her in line, and hold her accountable for that scrape on his beloved car. Instead, here he was, unable to shake the thrill of her presence.

He convinced himself it was just stress, nothing more. To prove it, he’d called her to his office to retrieve a file—an excuse to see her again. Surely, the moment she stepped into his space, he’d feel nothing but indifference. But the second their fingers brushed as she handed him the file, he felt that same electric jolt, the one he didn’t want to feel.

Thankfully, Janice’s presence in his office was a sobering reminder of reality. With her poised elegance and familiarity, Janice was the epitome of the kind of woman he was supposed to want. So he leaned into the moment. “Would you get something for my darling Janice here?” he asked Clarissa, emphasizing “darling” as he leaned in to plant a kiss on Janice’s cheek. A move he hoped he wouldn’t regret.

If Clarissa was affected by his display, she didn’t show it. “What would you like, Miss Janice?” she asked, her tone composed as ever.

Janice’s scrutinizing gaze swept over Clarissa before she ordered, her voice cold, edged with condescension. Clarissa took the orders with polite efficiency and left. Steve couldn’t help but watch her as she disappeared down the hall, a quiet frustration building within him.

When Clarissa returned with Janice’s food and coffee, it didn’t take long for Janice to start nitpicking. “I said I wanted wrath-of-god hot sauce on my fries,” she snapped, her tone biting. Clarissa’s fingers clenched around the tray, but her response remained calm.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you meant a specific brand,” she replied evenly, her voice unwavering.

Steve expected Clarissa to falter, but instead, she handled every barb Janice threw at her with graceful composure. He should have felt satisfaction seeing her face Janice’s impossible demands—that had been his intention, after all—but instead, he found himself unsettled. Why did he feel the urge to step in?

Finally, Janice’s criticism reached a fever pitch, and Steve decided to intervene. “Alright, Janice,” he said, forcing a smile. “Let’s get out of here and find somewhere that suits you.” He waved Clarissa off, trying to ignore the flash of gratitude he felt when she turned and left the room.

As he escorted Janice out of his office, she continued to criticize Clarissa, her tone dripping with disdain. “I don’t know where you found her, but she’s completely unsuited to handle important clients.”

Steve rolled his eyes as he turned to grab his jacket, grateful his back was to her. He knew Janice well enough to recognize her real issue wasn’t the food. It was Clarissa. Janice had always been territorial, and by asking Clarissa to fetch her food, he’d unwittingly stoked the flames. Now he’d created a rivalry where there was none, and it was entirely his fault.

With a faint sigh, he turned back to Janice, a small grin plastered on his face. “Let’s do something about this cranky mood of yours.”

“Cranky?” she scoffed. “I just have high standards, Steve.” She hooked her arm through his as they passed through the main office area, giving Clarissa a sidelong glance as they left. “Honestly, it would’ve been a perfect trip if you’d been there with me. You know how much I missed you.”

Clarissa kept her smile tight as they passed by, but Steve caught the faintest flicker in her gaze. And as they descended the hall to the elevators, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d crossed an invisible line—one that he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to go back behind.

“Wow, Mum, you look amazing! And this table—what’s the occasion?” Clarissa asked, her voice lifting with surprise as she took in the elegant spread and watched her mother place a bowl of chicken and potato salad next to an array of delicious dishes.

Her mother, Becca, paused, a proud gleam in her eye as she stepped back to admire her work. “Just feeling good, sweetheart. My test results came back clear, so I thought we’d celebrate.” She looked around the table as if it needed one final touch. “If only I had fresh flowers for the centerpiece, then it would be perfect.”

A surge of relief softened Clarissa’s expression. “Oh, Mum, I’m so glad you’re okay.” She wrapped her arms around Becca, memories of her mother’s health battle crowding her thoughts. Before her illness, Becca used to fill their home with vibrant meals and capture each one on her phone, just for the joy of it. How long had it been since her mother could indulge in this simple pleasure?

With a quick swipe at the tear threatening to escape, she smiled. “Alright, flowers it is! I’ll grab some from Veronica’s garden.” She kissed her mother’s forehead and stepped outside, breathing in the crisp evening air. Today, everything felt like a gift. Just a year ago, she’d been desperate for funds, willing to take drastic steps to help with her mother’s treatment—steps her mother would never know about. But now, as she headed toward Veronica’s flowers, her heart lifted, filled with quiet gratitude.

Lost in thought, she buried her nose in a bunch of fresh tulips when a rustling sound caught her attention. Clarissa froze, her pulse quickening, until a boy with blue eyes and dark hair emerged, peeking at her from under the shrubs.

She pressed a hand to her chest, exhaling a relieved laugh. “You startled me!”

The boy gave her a small, apologetic smile, looking shy but determined.

“What are you doing hiding in the flowers?” She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow, trying to look serious. “Aren’t you worried about that handsome face of yours?”

The boy giggled, his whole face lighting up. “I’m Nick. I was looking for my friend Flutter.”

Clarissa grinned. “Flutter? Is that a butterfly?”

He nodded earnestly. “She’s my friend, and I brought her here for fresh air, but she flew away.”

Clarissa crouched down to his level, brushing her hands along the ground. “Well, maybe I can help you find her. We’ll search the best we can.”

The boy’s face brightened, and they combed the flowerbed together until they heard someone call out from the driveway. “Nick!” A man’s voice, deep and unmistakable.

Nick’s eyes sparkled. “That’s my uncle Steve!”

Clarissa froze, recognition hitting her like a wave. Her boss was here? She hadn’t expected to see him outside the office, especially not here in her quiet neighborhood. Still crouched in the flowers, she forced herself to stand and brushed the dirt off her dress, trying not to look as rattled as she felt.

Nick darted toward the approaching figure and launched himself at Steve, who caught him effortlessly. Clarissa could only stare, hoping she didn’t look as flustered as she felt.

“Well, well, Clarissa.” Steve's eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Didn’t expect to find you here, gardening.”

She straightened up, meeting his gaze with all the calm she could muster. “I was, uh, helping Nick search for Flutter,” she managed, noticing the smirk on his face, which only made her cheeks warm.

Nick tugged on Steve’s sleeve. “Uncle Steve, Clarissa isn’t a stranger. She’s my friend now.”

Steve chuckled, ruffling Nick’s hair. “Looks like I can’t argue with that.” Just then, a slender woman with striking resemblance to Steve joined them. She looked worn but still managed a smile.

“Sheila!” Steve’s voice softened. “You should be resting. Are you feeling alright?”

Sheila waved him off. “I’m fine—just moving has been tiring.” She turned to Clarissa and extended a hand. “I’m Sheila, Nick’s mom.”

“Clarissa. Nice to meet you, Sheila.” She shook her hand, giving the woman a sympathetic smile. This must be why Steve had been on edge lately.

Another voice interrupted, a soft, playful one. “Steve!” A tall, willowy blonde emerged from the doorway, her eyes lighting up when she saw him.

Steve greeted her with an easy smile. “Sophie, hi. Clarissa, this is Sophie, my…”

“Friend,” Sophie finished, slipping her arm around his. Clarissa suppressed a smile and tried to ignore the flash of jealousy she felt—what did it matter to her who Steve was seeing?

Nick, however, wasn’t distracted. “Can Clarissa come for dinner, Mum? She promised to help me look for butterflies!”

Clarissa laughed, her heart melting. “I’d love to, Nick, but my mom’s waiting for me. I’ll come another time, though. I promise.”

She had just turned to go when she heard Nick’s voice rise in alarm. “Mummy!” She turned to see Sheila slumped on the ground, Steve already by her side, his face etched with worry.

As Clarissa stepped back, she felt a pang of helplessness watching Steve cradle his sister’s head. Her pulse quickened, her gaze lingering on Steve’s face, softer than she’d ever seen. In that quiet moment, she realized that the wall she had carefully built between them might not be as strong as she thought.