By ten, the office had the steady hum of keyboards and small talk. She hadn’t heard a word of any of it. The jacket sat folded in her bottom drawer like a lit match she’d hidden from herself. Every time she reached for a pen she could smell him again. Spice and smoke. Heat and trouble.

Her phone facedown beside the monitor buzzed twice. She didn’t look. If it was him, she wasn’t ready to read whatever careful words he had lined up for her. If it wasn’t him, she didn’t want the disappointment.

“Are you alive or did you turn to stone,” Coco said, sliding into the chair beside her without waiting to be invited. She set two coffees down like peace offerings and tried to peer into her soul. That was Coco’s talent. Charts and budgets by day. Surgical-level friendship by night.

“I’m working,” she said.

Coco snorted. “You’re staring at a blank spreadsheet and the tab is called ‘Untitled.’ Not even the dignity of a fake name.”

She reached for a coffee to hide the smile tugging at her mouth. “You can text me like a normal person.”

“I did. You ignored me. So I came to your desk like an old-timey telegram.” Coco lowered her voice. “Also, the building chat is on fire.”

Her stomach dipped. “About what.”

“Last night. Someone heard a security guard mention a report and now half the floor is acting like they solved Watergate.” Coco leaned closer. “Tell me I don’t have to run interference with HR.”

She took a careful breath. “Security texted me this morning. ‘We need to talk about last night.’”

Coco blinked. “We as in you and security. Or we as in you and the man who had you texting me at midnight that you were fine, but ‘not home yet, don’t ask.’”

She said nothing. Her cheeks warmed.

“Oh my God,” Coco whispered, eyes going round. “It’s him.”

“Coco.”

“Okay, okay.” The teasing drained from her friend’s face. “Are you okay. That’s the only thing I care about.”

“I’m okay.” She could say that and mean it. “I just don’t know what they saw, or what they think they saw.”

Coco’s gaze softened. “Then we find out before the rumor mill writes the ending. Where are they meeting you.”

As if the building had been waiting for a cue, the receptionist called across the open floor. “Security would like to see you in the lower lobby when you have a moment.”

Every head didn’t turn, but enough did. She stood, palms suddenly damp. Coco stood with her like a shadow that drank stress and spat out jokes when necessary.

The elevator ride felt too bright, all mirrors and fluorescent light that had no patience for secrets. Coco bumped her shoulder, small and grounding. “I’m your cousin,” she said. “Or your attorney. Pick one. I’ll play the role.”

“Cousin,” she said, a laugh catching on the edge of her nerves. “You’re too good at fake outrage to be my attorney.”

The lower lobby was cooler than upstairs, concrete and glass, a wall of monitors showing silent camera feeds. A man with a tidy beard and a nameplate that said KEN waited by a desk with a binder and a tablet. He smiled in the way people smile when they are about to ask you to sit down for a talk.

“Thanks for coming.” He gestured to two chairs. “This won’t take long.”

Coco answered for her. “It shouldn’t.”

Ken folded his hands. “There was a noise complaint on twelve last night. A staff member reported a disturbance near the restrooms by the event corridor. We reviewed footage for timing and traffic. We are required to document any incidents after hours.”

She felt her spine straighten. “Okay.”

“We wanted to confirm you were safe leaving the building. We saw you exit with a driver around one forty. The company was paid. There’s no violation attached to you personally, but we need to identify the second party.” Ken tapped the tablet. “I’d prefer to keep this contained.”

Coco’s chin tipped. “What exactly do you have on the footage.”

Ken’s expression didn’t change. “Entrances and exits to the corridor. Nothing inside the restroom. We use privacy filters.” His eyes flicked to her. “We have a still that suggests who your companion may have been.”

The word companion made last night bloom behind her ribs again. She stared at the tablet as he rotated it and slid it across. The image was grainy, a frame from a wide-angle. Her side profile, hair pinned up in the way she did when she needed to move fast. A man at her shoulder. Tall. Dark suit. The camera had caught them mid-turn, his head bent as if speaking low into her ear. No faces. No scandal. Just posture and proximity that knew too much.

Her pulse ticked at the base of her throat. Coco’s hand found her forearm. “This is nothing,” Coco said, voice cool. “Two people walking. That could be anyone.”

Ken nodded. “Which is why I’m asking. If there’s a safety concern, we address it. If there isn’t, we close the file.” He paused. “If you prefer to keep names out of it, that is your choice.”

She could hear his voice from this morning as if he were leaning in again. After this, nothing goes back to the way it was.

“No safety concern,” she said. “I left with a driver. I was fine.”

Coco’s thumb pressed once, a small squeeze. Ken inclined his head. “Thank you. One last thing.” He slid a printed form across. “Standard acknowledgment.”

She read the bland language. Incident. Reviewed. No further action. She signed. Her hand looked steady. It didn’t feel steady.

Ken gathered the papers. “If anyone reaches out to you directly, send them to me. We discourage speculation.”

“Good,” Coco said. “We do too.”

They stood. For a second she thought it was over and the day could return to something like normal. Then Ken said, almost as an afterthought, “There is a second report, unrelated to last night, but it came in this morning. A man in the lobby asked if you’d arrived. He did not give his name. He left a message.”

Her chest tightened. “What message.”

Ken glanced at a note. “Tell her I’m not hiding. I’ll be where she can find me if she wants to.” He looked up. “That mean anything to you.”

Coco opened her mouth. Shut it. Looked at her in a way that said, We are going upstairs and locking your computer and you are telling me every word.

“It’s fine,” she said. “Thank you, Ken.”

Back in the elevator, the air felt crowded with things she wasn’t saying. Coco waited until the doors closed and then turned to her, eyes blazing with friendly fire. “Tell me everything in thirty seconds.”

“He came over this morning,” she said. “We set rules. No disappearing. No guessing. If I say stop, he stops. If I want him, I say it.”

Coco blinked. “You made rules. I am both proud and afraid.”

“He left the jacket on purpose,” she said, the confession small and dangerous. “He wanted an excuse to see me.”

“And the message about not hiding.”

“He doesn’t want to pretend.” She stared at the floor number climbing. “But he wants to be precise.”

Coco blew out a breath. “Okay. Logistics. If you’re going to do this, we need a plan for noise control. Do not be alone with rumors. If anyone asks, you were with me. If anyone insists, you refer them to Ken.”