Chapter Six

Alison sat at her desk, staring blankly at her screen. She hadn't heard a word from Ralph all morning. Not a glance. Not even the usual clipped instructions through the intercom. After what happened between them, after what they shared, it felt like she was invisible. She tightened her jaw. If that was how he wanted to play it—then so be it. She wouldn't beg for attention. Not again. From now on, she was nothing more than his assistant. Nothing less. Nothing more. Just a damn employee.

The elevator dinged softly and the lobby filled with the soft click of expensive heels. Alison glanced up and froze. A tall, stunning woman in a sleek designer suit, long dark hair flowing down her back, strode in with a smile too perfect to be anything but rehearsed. In her manicured hands was a gleaming lunch box wrapped in satin ribbon. She walked straight up to Alison's desk with the grace of someone who had never known rejection.

"Hi," the woman beamed. "I'm here to see Ralphie."

Alison blinked. "Ralphie?"

"Yes," the woman laughed lightly. "Ralph Lauren. Tell him Jane is here."

"Do you have an appointment?" Alison asked calmly, even though her stomach twisted. No one ever just strolled in asking for him like that.

Jane tilted her head, her smile unwavering. "Oh no, sweetie. I don't need one. Just tell him I'm here, okay? He'll want to see me."

Alison buzzed his line reluctantly. "Sir... someone named Jane is here to see you."

A pause. Then his voice. "Send her in."

Alison nodded tightly. "Go ahead."

Jane gave her a wink and sauntered into his office. Alison looked away quickly, fists clenched under the desk.

Inside, Ralph looked up from a file. Jane closed the door behind her, all smiles. "Ralphie," she sang, moving toward him. "You look so tense."

He didn't smile. "Jane."

"I brought you lunch. Your favorite—truffle risotto and grilled salmon from that little Italian place you used to love."

He leaned back in his chair, gaze unreadable. "That was three years ago."

Jane laughed like it was nothing. "Well, good food never goes out of style." She placed the box on his desk and sat casually in the chair across from him. "I missed you."

Ralph's expression didn't change. "Why are you really here, Jane?"

She pouted. "Is that how you welcome me after all this time?"

"Stop acting like nothing has changed," he said flatly.

Jane's smile flickered, just for a second. "I'm back, Ralph. For good this time. I'm taking over my family's fashion empire like they wanted. I've grown. I've learned a lot. I... I was hoping we could reconnect."

He didn't answer. He just looked past her, jaw tight, like his mind was somewhere else entirely.

Jane leaned forward slightly, her tone softening, her eyes studying his face. "Ralph, I know I left without much warning... and I know you were hurt. But I needed to find myself. I needed to learn who I was outside of everything—outside of us. You must understand that. You, of all people, always told me how important it was to build something for yourself."

Ralph exhaled quietly, still not looking at her. He didn't move. "You chose yourself, Jane. And that's fine. But don't come back expecting to pick up where we left off. That chapter ended the moment you didn't even call to say goodbye."

She reached for his hand across the desk. "I'm not asking for a fairytale. I just want to get to know you again. Can't we have lunch, just once? Talk... like friends, if nothing else?"

His eyes finally met hers, calm but unreadable. "I don't do friends."

Jane laughed softly. "You used to. You were warm once."

"And now I'm cold?" he said, voice low.

"I didn't say that," she said gently, inching closer in her seat. "I just think... maybe you've forgotten how much we meant to each other."

There was a silence. Long. Heavy. Then he stood. "Jane, you should go."

She blinked. "Just like that?"

"I'm busy."

She rose slowly, forcing another smile, even though the rejection stung clear in her eyes. "Okay. I'll leave the lunch." She turned to the door, then paused. "For what it's worth, Ralph... I still care. And I'm not here to cause drama. I'm just here."

He didn't respond. Jane opened the door quietly and stepped back into the reception area, her perfect posture intact, but something dimmer in her gaze.

Alison didn't look up. She kept typing, even though her fingers trembled slightly. Jane walked past her desk and paused, offering a soft, polite smile. "Have a nice day."

Alison forced a nod. "You too."

Once the elevator closed, Alison finally exhaled and leaned back in her chair. Her heart felt like it was caught between annoyance and something she couldn't name. Maybe jealousy. Maybe regret. Well she could just be a business partner, she thought.

Inside the office, Ralph stood alone, staring at the untouched lunch. And for a moment, he wondered why he didn't feel anything.

Not like when Alison touched him.

Not like when she moaned his name with trembling lips in the back seat of his car.

Not like when she looked at him like he was the only man that had ever mattered.

And he hated that difference.

Alison was going through receipts when her phone buzzed. A message from Ralph's office. "Come in." That was all it said. No greeting. No reason. Just an order.

She stood, adjusted her blouse, told herself it didn't mean anything—and knocked. "Come in," came his voice, clipped and emotionless.

He didn't look up when she entered, just gestured at the chair. "The Monroe file. You said you'd submit the breakdown by this morning. Where is it?" Alison blinked. "I left it on your desk an hour ago." "I didn't see it." "It's right there, under the memo you ignored."

He looked, found it, tapped it once. "Fine. You can go." She didn't move.

Her chest tightened as she stood there in silence, watching his face, stone cold, like nothing had happened.

Like they hadn't touched each other. Kissed like they were dying. Like he hadn't made her tremble in the rain. "Is that all?" she asked, voice low. Ralph looked up, eyes unreadable. "Should there be more?" "I don't know, Mr. Lauren. You tell me." "We had a moment. That's all."

He stood, adjusting his cuff. "It doesn't change anything." "Right. Because it's so easy for you to pretend." His jaw clenched. "What do you want me to say? That I regret it?" "Do you?" she shot back. A beat.

His throat moved as he swallowed, but his voice stayed even. "It was a mistake. One I won't repeat." Her breath caught. That should've been enough to end it. But the way he said it—too fast, too clean—it didn't feel like truth. It felt like defense. "Then you've made yourself clear," she said, trying not to let her voice shake. She turned toward the door.

But his voice came again, quieter this time. "You shouldn't have kissed me back." That stopped her. She turned slowly, meeting his eyes. "You shouldn't have kissed me at all."

Ralph stared at her, breathing a little harder now. His knuckles were white against the desk. "Don't tempt me again." Her lips parted, her chest rising and falling. "Then stop looking at me like that."

For a moment, silence wrapped them. Heavy. Personal. Dangerous. Then she left, shutting the door quietly behind her. He didn't move for a long time. Just stood there, jaw clenched, eyes on the handle she touched last.

Alison did her best for the rest of the day avoiding him. It's too embarrassing for her to face him. She has shamelessly shared her body with him.....

Well," let's just pretend it never happened". But who exactly is that lady earlier??? " God, why do I care"..