Olivia
The cab lurched through LA traffic, and I leaned my forehead against the cool window, watching the buildings blur together. Work had been brutal: back-to-back meetings, a presentation that ran long, and the knowing glances every time Alexander walked past the marketing department.
My phone buzzed with a text from Alexander.
Alexander: Dinner tomorrow night. Wear the blue dress.
Not a question, of course. A statement. I sighed and typed back.
Me: I'll check my schedule.
His response came immediately.
Alexander: No need. I already cleared it with your supervisor.
I rolled my eyes. Of course, he had. The man was nothing if not thorough.
When the cab pulled up to my apartment building, I overtipped the driver and trudged inside, my heels clicking against the lobby floor. The el
