I tell myself it’s just nerves.

First-day jitters. New job anxiety. Residual tequila poisoning. Any of those things would explain the way my stomach twists as I step off the bus and onto the polished stone walkway outside Lancaster Enterprises.

This is it.

My reset button.

My chance to stop surviving and start building something again.

I smooth my blouse, tug my blazer into place, and lift my chin as I approach the revolving doors. The reflection staring back at me looks composed. Professional. Nothing like the girl who ran barefoot out of a stranger’s apartment hours earlier.

“Fresh start,” I whisper under my breath. “No ghosts.”

The lobby is massive and pristine—glass, steel, marble. The kind of place where people walk like they have somewhere important to be. My heels echo too loudly as I approach the reception desk.

The woman behind it barely glances up. “Name?”

“Chloe Alvarez,” I say. “I’m starting today as executive assistant.”

She taps her keyboard, nods once. “HR’s expecting you. Twentieth floor.”

The elevator ride feels too fast and too slow at the same time. My pulse thuds in my ears as the doors slide open onto a floor buzzing with quiet urgency—phones ringing, assistants moving with purpose, the low hum of efficiency.

A woman in a red blazer intercepts me before I can panic.

“Chloe?” she asks brightly. “I’m Megan from HR. Welcome to Lancaster.”

Relief washes through me. A normal face. A normal introduction. This is good.

She gives me a quick tour—departments, coffee machines, security protocols. I nod and smile and hope she can’t hear how hard my heart is pounding.

“And of course,” Megan says, stopping in front of a corner office with frosted glass, “you’ll be supporting Mr. Jones Lancaster directly.”

She pushes the door open.

My world tilts.

He’s standing inside, one hip leaned casually against the desk, sleeves rolled up, jacket tossed over a chair.

Danny.

For a split second, I think my hangover has finally crossed into hallucination.

Then his eyes lift.

Recognition hits—sharp, electric, undeniable.

Oh no.

Oh no, no, no.

“Mr. Jones Lancaster,” Megan says cheerfully, completely oblivious to the silent nuclear detonation happening inside my chest. “This is your new executive assistant, Chloe Alvarez.”

Danny’s mouth curves into a slow, knowing smile.

“Well,” he says smoothly, eyes never leaving mine. “This is unexpected.”

My lungs forget how to function.

I force air in. “Hi.”

Megan beams between us. “Oh! Do you two already know each other?”

My mouth opens. Nothing comes out.

Danny saves me—barely.

“We’ve crossed paths,” he says lightly.

The way he says it makes my skin burn.

Megan nods, satisfied. “Perfect! Chloe, I’ll let you two get acquainted. Your orientation packet’s on your desk.” She gives me a quick smile and slips back out.

The door clicks shut.

Silence floods the room.

Danny straightens slowly, every movement deliberate. “You left without saying goodbye.”

Heat rushes to my face. “I panicked.”

“I noticed.”

“This is…not what I expected,” I say, gripping the folder Megan handed me like a life raft.

His gaze drags over me—professional suit, pinned hair, carefully neutral expression. “You clean up well.”

“That’s inappropriate,” I blurt.

A brow lifts. “So was sneaking out of my bed.”

My stomach flips. “I didn’t know who you were.”

“And now you do,” he says quietly.

I swallow. “This is work. Whatever happened last night—it stays there.”

Danny studies me for a long moment. Then his smile shifts. Less teasing. More intent.

“Relax,” he says. “I don’t mix business with pleasure.”

Relief loosens my shoulders.

Then he adds, “Unless I’m invited.”

My pulse spikes again.

Before I can respond, the office door opens.

Mr. Jones Lancaster himself steps in, crisp suit, sharp eyes. “Ah, good—you’ve met.”

Met.

Yes. That’s one word for it.

“Daniel,” he says to Danny, “I’ll need you to sit in on the strategy meeting this morning.”

Daniel.

My stomach drops.

“This is my son,” Mr. Jones Lancaster adds, turning to me. “He’s been easing into the company.”

Son.

The room spins.

Danny’s eyes flick back to mine, dark with amusement.

“We’ve met,” he says again.

My throat tightens. “Briefly.”

Mr. Jones Lancaster chuckles. “Small world. Chloe, why don’t you show Daniel around before the meeting? Help him see things from your side.”

From my side.

I nod, because what else can I do? “Of course.”

Danny steps closer as we exit the office, his voice low enough that only I can hear it.

“You really should stop running from me.”

I keep walking. “You should stop talking.”

He laughs softly. “This is going to be fun.”

My heart pounds—not with excitement, but dread.

Because I already know one thing with terrifying clarity—

There’s no such thing as a fresh start when the past is standing five feet away, smiling at you like he owns you.

And I have a feeling this job is about to cost me a lot more than my sanity.