Chapter 1.3

Val was jostled awake by the rhythmic rocking of the train, the faint murmur of voices around her blending into the hum of movement. Her head throbbed, and when she tried to sit up, a sharp pain shot through her forehead.

"Ugh..." she groaned, blinking rapidly as her vision adjusted. The train had stopped, and a few concerned faces hovered over her. She rubbed her temple, feeling a tender lump forming. Fantastic.

She looked up at the person who had kicked her shoe—straight into her face. Her cheeks flushed as she recalled the humiliating moment.

The culprit was a man in a navy-blue business suit, complemented by a dark blue and white tie. He carried a brown briefcase and stood tall—at least 6'2", if she had to guess. Running a hand through his dark blonde hair, he revealed furrowed brows and an expression of concern.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

Val found herself momentarily lost in his deep blue eyes, as dark and vast as the depths of the ocean.

"I think she's concussed," a woman beside him observed.

"I-I- I'm fine," Val stammered as she pushed herself up—only to stumble right into his arms. He caught her effortlessly, his warmth and strength steadying her.

Flustered, she quickly pulled away and grabbed her heel, shoving her foot back into it. The crowd had dispersed, returning to their seats, but her embarrassment burned hotter than ever.

She turned to the stranger, frustration bubbling up. "Why did you kick it?"

He looked surprised. "Excuse me?"

"Why did you kick my shoe instead of picking it up?" she repeated, arms crossed.

His lips twitched with amusement before his expression cooled. "What did you expect me to do?"

"Oh, I don't know—maybe pick it up and hand it to me instead of punting it into my face?" Val shot back.

He snickered. "Pick up your shoe? The one that's been on your foot? Yeah, I'm not sure I want to touch some random, dirty shoe, you step in all kinds of things." shaking his head.

Val's mouth dropped open. Heat crept up her neck. "It would've avoided smacking me in the face!" she seethed.

His smirk deepened. "Look, lady, I'm sorry for kicking your shoe. But isn't it better to have it back rather than hobbling to work with one heel?"

Then, with an infuriatingly smug grin, he added, "Here's a tip: maybe work on your reflexes."

Oh, she was boiling now. Even if he had a point, she wasn't about to let him win this round.

Plastering on a saccharine smile, she shot back, "Gee thanks for getting my shoe. But I'd rather you have left it behind than kicked it into my face, but oh well—it must be your blowhard energy."

His eyes widened, clearly not expecting that. Before he could retort, Val pivoted on her heel and strode off, putting as much distance as possible between herself and the scene of the crime.

Settling into a seat far from him, she tried to calm her racing heart.

You need to focus, Val.

Pulling out her phone, she checked her emails and made final edits to her PowerPoint presentation.

"Now arriving at Central, the final stop on this line."

Val stood, checking the time. 9:45 AM. Her meeting was in fifteen minutes. She needed to sprint.

As soon as the train doors slid open, she bolted. Her usual ten-minute walk to the office became a five-minute dash. She passed her favorite coffee shop, momentarily tempted, but she could already imagine her boss seething with impatience.

Finally, she reached the revolving doors of her office building, breathless but triumphant.

As she stepped inside, someone slipped in behind her.

She glanced back and nearly stumbled.

Him.

What the hell?

As they approached the gates, he pulled out a key card—just like hers.

Oh, no.

Waiting for the elevator, she watched as he stepped in beside her. She pressed her card against the reader, selecting floor 12.

He made no move.

"Aren't you going to select your floor?" she asked.

He smiled. "Nope. Heading to 12."

Her stomach dropped.

No. He was just visiting someone. He had to be.

DING.

The doors slid open, and Val stepped out, giving a tight smile to the receptionist, Monique, before practically sprinting to her desk. Dropping her bag, she made a beeline for the bathroom to fix herself up.

One look in the mirror and she nearly screamed.

Her hair was wild. Loose strands stuck out everywhere, and a big red mark marred the center of her forehead. Leaning closer, she spotted a dried dot of blood.

"Oh my god."

Frantically, she grabbed paper towels, dabbing her forehead and splashing water on her face.

Behind her, a toilet flushed.

Out stepped Elsie, her gorgeous, effortlessly flawless colleague and dearest friend. Dressed in a tight yellow knit dress that hugged her in all the right places, Elsie blinked in surprise.

"Oh my God, Val—what the hell happened?!"

Val groaned. "You don't even want to know. Let's just say it involved a shoe to the face."

Elsie frowned, washing her hands. "How did that happen?"

"A man kicked it instead of picking it up and handing it to me."

Elsie stared. "He what?"

Val rolled her eyes. "Exactly."

After dabbing at the mark for another minute, she sighed. The redness had faded slightly, but it was still noticeable. Resigned, she adjusted her hair, letting her bangs cover the redness.

"Good enough. Let's go."

The glass meeting room was already filling up when they arrived. Val's boss, Oliver, sat at the head of the table. He looked… irritated.

Great.

Val took her seat and nodded at Elsie, signalling her to start the presentation.

By the time she finished her portion, the team erupted into applause.

"...And with that, sir, we've generated $20 million in revenue this month through our new marketing research tool," Val concluded, beaming with pride.

Oliver nodded, standing. "Great job, Valkyrie. To you and the team."

She barely had time to soak in the praise before Oliver cleared his throat. "I have an announcement."

The room quieted.

"The Egbert board has directed an expansion, and I want you to know—no one is being replaced," he assured, locking eyes with Val before quickly looking away. Was that... guilt?

She swallowed hard.

"With that said, I'd like to introduce our newest Market Analyst Lead." Oliver hesitated before continuing "...And Val's newest counter part"

Oliver gestured toward the meeting room door.

All eyes turned.

Val felt the blood drain from her face.

No. No. No.

In his navy suit, dark blonde waves falling effortlessly against his forehead, he pushed off the desk he had been leaning on and strode into the room.

Oliver continued, "Meet Tyler O'Ryan."

Tyler's gaze swept across the room until it landed on her. His lips curled into a slow, knowing smile, amusement flickering behind those blue steel eyes.

Val saw red.

"Hey, team, it's nice to meet you all," he drawled, giving her a wink.

THERE IS NO F*CKING WAY.