His eyes sharpened.
“What?”
“If there were no job involved.
No title.
No forty-second floor.
What would you ask me?”
For the first time since I had known Preston Marchetti, he looked almost uncertain.
Then he said, “Dinner.”
My heartbeat softened into something warmer.
“Just dinner?”
“To start.”
I tried not to smile.
Failed.
“Then ask me properly.”
He stepped closer, still leaving enough space for me to choose whether to close it.
“Paige Hayes, would you have dinner with me tonight?”
I thought of Veronica telling me I would always be invisible.
I thought of the contracts, the yellow tabs, the chair pulled out beside his, and the way Preston had listed the things he noticed when I believed no one was looking.
Then I answered the only way I could.
“Yes.”
His shoulders eased by a fraction.
“But,” I added.
One eyebrow lifted.
“If this becomes complicated at work, we handle it like adults.
No special treatment.
No punishing me if it doesn’t work.
No pretending I suddenly can’t do my job because we had dinner.”
Something like pride crossed his face.
“Agreed.”
“And Veronica doesn’t lose her position because she embarrassed me.”
“That decision will be based on her conduct, not your feelings.”
“Fair.”
He nodded.
“Anything else?”
I considered him.
“Yes.”
“What?”
“Stop calling me Miss Hayes when we’re alone.”
This time he definitely smiled.
“Paige.”
Hearing my name in his voice felt more intimate than any touch could have.
That evening, when I returned to my desk, nothing in the office had physically changed.
The same windows overlooked the city.
The same folders waited in my inbox.
The same cheap coffee had gone cold beside my keyboard.
But I sat differently.
Not because Preston Marchetti wanted me.
That mattered to my heart, but it was not the whole reason.
I sat differently because hours earlier, when someone tried to make me feel small, I had remained standing long enough for the truth to catch up with the insult.
I had done the work.
I had earned the chair.
And when Preston finally told the room that he saw me, I understood something I should have known long before he said it.
I had never been invisible.
