C15.2: 'The Presentation'

As they gathered their belongings and headed for the door, Victoria paused, turning to face him in the threshold. They were standing close—too close for normal professional interaction—but neither stepped back.

"You did exceptionally well today," she said, her voice lower than usual. "I know I push you harder than is probably fair."

"I can handle it," James replied, matching her tone. "I wouldn't have stayed three years if I couldn't."

Victoria's eyes searched his face, a flicker of something almost vulnerable crossing her features before vanishing behind her usual composure. "No, I suppose you wouldn't have."

For a charged moment, they stood there, something unspoken hanging in the air between them. James was acutely aware of her perfume—subtle and expensive, with notes of bergamot and sandalwood—and the slight rise and fall of her chest as she breathed. If this were a scene in one of those romantic comedies his sister loved, this would be the moment where he'd lean in, where professional boundaries would dissolve into something far more complicated and potentially disastrous.

Instead, Victoria stepped back, breaking the spell. "Car's waiting downstairs. I need to call the office before we head back."

James nodded, exhaling a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "I'll gather the rest of our materials."

As Victoria walked ahead of him toward the elevators, her phone already at her ear, James allowed himself a moment of honest self-reflection. This thing—this attraction, this tension, this whatever-it-was—was becoming harder to ignore. Three years of professional admiration had evolved into something far more complex, and days like today only intensified the confusion. Being the focus of Victoria Sharp's attention was intoxicating in the worst possible way, especially when that attention carried these new, ambiguous undertones.

But it was better than being ignored. James had seen how Victoria treated people she found uninteresting or incompetent—with a dismissive coldness that bordered on cruelty. Her challenging barbs, her occasional praise, even her teasing about his height (he was 5'9", hardly short, but everyone was diminutive compared to Victoria in her perpetual four-inch heels)—these were all signs that she saw him, truly saw him, as more than just an assistant.

James gathered the remaining folders and followed her path to the elevators, where she stood with perfect posture, phone pressed to her ear as she issued instructions to someone at the office. She acknowledged his arrival with a brief nod, her free hand extending to press the elevator button.

In the polished brass reflection of the elevator doors, James caught a glimpse of them standing side by side—Victoria tall and commanding, himself solid and composed slightly behind her right shoulder. They looked good together, a well-matched pair despite their differences. The thought was both satisfying and dangerous.

The elevator arrived with a soft chime, and they stepped inside. Victoria ended her call as the doors closed, sealing them into the small space together.

"Everything okay at the office?" James asked, purely to break the sudden silence.

Victoria sighed, some of her professional armor slipping now that they were alone. "Peterson is throwing a fit about the rebranding timeline. I've told Naomi to handle it, but he insists on speaking to me directly."

"He always does that," James observed. "I'm convinced he has a thing for you."

The words slipped out before he could filter them, more personal than he'd normally allow himself to be. But Victoria merely rolled her eyes, a surprisingly casual gesture for someone so composed.

"Peterson is happily married with three children," she said. "He just can't stand reporting to anyone but the CEO. Male fragility at its finest."

James smiled, relieved she'd taken his comment in stride. "Should I add him to your schedule tomorrow?"

"God, no. Let him stew for a few days. Naomi needs to establish her authority with the branding team."

The elevator began its descent, the slight drop in pressure creating that peculiar floating sensation in the pit of the stomach. Beside him, Victoria leaned slightly against the brass handrail, her shoulder almost but not quite touching his. In the mirrored wall opposite, James could see their reflections—Victoria looking straight ahead, her expression thoughtful, and himself trying very hard not to stare at her while being hyperaware of every inch between them.

"Do you think the deal is really going to go through?" he asked quietly, giving voice to the concern that had been nagging at him since the merger talks began. "No last-minute complications?"

Victoria turned to look at him directly, their faces close in the confined space. "Having doubts, Mitchell?"

"Just being realistic. Something this good usually comes with unexpected hurdles."

She studied him for a moment, then nodded slowly. "Smart. But yes, I believe it will. Chen wants this as much as we do, maybe more. His board is fully behind it, and our financials are solid." She paused, then added with uncharacteristic candor, "Though nothing is certain until the contracts are signed."

The elevator reached the ground floor, and they stepped out into the marbled lobby. The Next building was newer and more ostentatious than Sharp's offices, all soaring ceilings and dramatic lighting. Victoria looked perfectly at home in the sophisticated space, her burgundy dress and impeccable makeup harmonizing with the rich tones of the environment. James fell into step beside her as they crossed to the main entrance, where their driver would be waiting.

"About tonight's dinner," Victoria said as they approached the revolving doors. "I want you seated next to Chen. He's taken a liking to you, and we can use that."

James nodded. "Any specific topics I should steer toward or avoid?"

"Keep him talking about his vision for the future. He gets expansive after a glass of wine, and I want to know what he's really hoping for from this merger beyond what's in the official documentation."

"Corporate espionage over aperitifs," James said lightly. "Got it."

Victoria's lips quirked into a small smile. "Hardly espionage. Just good business. The more we understand his true motivations, the better positioned we'll be to ensure this partnership benefits Sharp as much as Next."

They pushed through the revolving doors and emerged onto the wide plaza in front of the building. The late afternoon sun cast a golden light over the city, softening the hard edges of glass and steel. Their car was waiting as promised, the driver standing at attention beside the open rear door.

Victoria paused before getting in, turning to face James once more. "And Mitchell?"

"Yes?"

Her eyes met his, direct and unguarded for once. "Wear that suit again tonight. It works for you."

Before he could respond, she slid into the car, leaving James standing momentarily frozen on the sidewalk, an inexplicable mixture of emotions churning in his chest. He took a breath, composing himself before following her into the vehicle.

As the car pulled away from the curb, James gazed out the window at the city sliding past. Victoria was already absorbed in her phone, reviewing emails with her customary intensity. The moment—whatever it had been—had passed, but its effects lingered. He could still feel where her eyes had traveled over him, still hear the subtle appreciation in her voice.

James wasn't naïve. He understood office dynamics, power imbalances, and the dangers of misreading signals from someone like Victoria Sharp. Yet he couldn't deny that something had shifted between them today, something that both thrilled and terrified him.

The car turned a corner, angling into the late afternoon sun. Beside him, Victoria pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, the gesture unexpectedly human and unguarded. James looked away, focusing on the buildings outside his window. Whatever was happening, whatever was changing between them, he would need to navigate it carefully. His job, his reputation, and quite possibly his heart depended on it.