The Shift

Victor smiled at me today, and I didn't feel anything. The realization hits me as I stand in his office doorway, watching him review contracts with that small quirk of his lips that used to make my heart stutter. Now it's just... a smile. Pleasant. Professional. Nothing more. "Good work on the Blackstone revisions," he says, and there's warmth in his voice I've never heard before. "I know the timeline was aggressive. You handled it well." "Thank you, Mr. Ashford." "Victor." He looks up, and those grey eyes that used to haunt my dreams meet mine with something almost like fondness. "When it's just us, you can call me Victor." Two months ago, this would have destroyed me. The intimacy of my name in his mouth, the softening of boundaries, the hint of something more. Now I just nod politely and return to my desk, my mind already drifting to tonight's session with V. My phone buzzes. V: What are you wearing under that skirt? Heat floods through me instantly. I glance toward Victor's office—