“Olivia, can you grab the files from the conference room? The client’s waiting.” Owen leaned against the edge of her desk, his tie slightly loosened and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Olivia glanced up from her laptop, her dark curls framing her face as she pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “Sure, but you owe me coffee for this,” she said, standing up.

Olivia was the kind of woman who turned heads without trying. Her fitted blouse hugged her curves just enough to be professional, and her pencil skirt accentuated her long legs. Owen, on the other hand, was all sharp angles—tall, with a jawline that could cut glass and a perpetual five o’clock shadow. They’d been working together for two years, and their banter had become a staple of the office.

“Deal,” Owen said, flashing a grin. “But only if you make it quick. And don’t forget the—” Before he could finish, Olivia was already halfway down the hall, her heels clicking against the polished floor. He watched her go, then glanced at his watch. The client was early, and something about the way Olivia had looked at him made him wonder if she knew more than she was letting on.