The past few days had been unusually unsettling for Arabella—not because of any technical issue or deadline, but because Damon had started appearing on their floor more often.
Just once or twice a week, never making it obvious. He would stop by to speak with Mr. Caldwell or briefly scan over project progress. But each time he appeared, Arabella could feel his presence even before she looked up.
And whenever she did glance up, their eyes met.
Always brief. Always wordless. He'd offer a small nod, and she would return it with a quiet, professional tilt of her head before turning back to her screen.
But even after he left, her heart would take its time settling down again.
On Tuesday, The buzz in the tech department hadn't died down since morning.
The project milestone they had worked on tirelessly for weeks had been approved and appreciated by the upper board, and Mr. Caldwell, their manager, had decided to throw a small team dinner to celebrate.
Arabella sat at her desk, finishing up a few updates on the final logs. She had been trying to stay out of the planning chaos the rest of the team was absorbed in.
"Don't even think about escaping this one," a voice chimed beside her.
Arabella looked up to see Lydia — a recent addition to the department who had somehow cracked through her quiet, reserved shell and started talking to her during breaks.
"I wasn't escaping," Arabella murmured, half-smiling.
Lydia rolled her eyes. "You were typing with the enthusiasm of someone hoping this entire evening passes while she's conveniently stuck in code."
Arabella chuckled softly but didn't answer.
"Look, it'll be fun. Nothing fancy. Just dinner, some drinks, maybe cake. Everyone's going. Come on, Aaruu," Lydia added with a playful nudge.
Arabella blinked at the nickname but didn't argue. Eventually, she nodded. "Okay. Just dinner."
---
Later that evening, the team arrived at a warm, bustling restaurant not far from the office. They had reserved a pair of tables at the back, tucked into a cozy corner. Arabella, as usual, found a seat at the side, slightly away from the center of chatter — but not completely out of place, thanks to Lydia by her side.
The team had just started placing their orders when Mr. Caldwell excused himself to the restroom.
As he returned, crossing the front section of the restaurant, he nearly collided with someone entering through the glass doors.
"Ah! Mr. Kingsley.." he said, recovering quickly.
Damon stood there, removing his coat while his assistant quietly followed behind, already scanning something on his tablet.
"I didn't expect to run into you here," Caldwell said politely.
"I had a dinner meeting close by. Just finished up." Damon replied smoothly, his eyes briefly scanning the room behind Caldwell.
"Well," Caldwell smiled, "Our tech department is celebrating tonight. Small success—first milestone of the recent project cleared. They're all in the back section. Would you like to come and join us?"
Damon raised an eyebrow. "The whole department?"
"Yes, almost. They're just settling in."
There was a pause.
"Interesting," Damon said after a beat, slipping his hands into his pockets. "Mind if I join, then?"
"Of course not! They'd be thrilled." Caldwell gestured for his assistant and led them toward the back.
As they approached the tables, Arabella didn't notice their arrival at first — she was adjusting her napkin, nodding at something Lydia said across the table.
Three chairs were still empty on her side.
Without waiting for formalities, Damon stepped forward and pulled out the chair directly beside her. The movement was smooth, unhurried, as if he belonged there.
Mr. Caldwell and the assistant quietly settled into the remaining two seats, and the conversation across the table dipped for a second as they seemed surprsied by the sudden arrival of the CEO, but it wasn't before it started slowly picking up again after exchanging some greetings.
Arabella froze for a moment, her shoulders stiffening as Damon's arm brushed hers when he settled in the close quarters. The table was full now, and though everyone tried to make space, proximity made it difficult. His cologne—woodsy, clean—drifted subtly to her side.
Dinner flowed easily. The others talked about the project, upcoming modules, and some even toasted to the next phase. Arabella mostly listened, She was focusing solely on her dinner, keeping her gaze lowered, making sure to stay out of any unnecessary conversations. Her fingers toyed with the edge of her napkin occasionally, and she nodded here and there to Lydia's chatter, though her mind kept drifting to the man seated beside her.
Damon hadn't said a word to her since joining. But his presence loomed large—warm, quiet, and far too distracting.
Then it happened.
At one point, She reached out for her drink—a small tumbler of iced lemonade—and her fingers curled around cold glass. When suddenly at the same time, another hand also came down to pick up the glass, but it got wrapped around hers.
She looked down.
A larger, warm hand was covering hers, fingers loosely curled around her own.
Then, a deliberate press. A slow, sure squeeze.
She snapped her gaze up, and there he was.
Damon, looking straight at her with a glint in his eyes—half-amused, half-teasing.
"That's my drink, pearls," he murmured, his voice just low enough for only her to hear.
Her eyes widened in realization, and she quickly pulled her hand back, heart hammering. She glanced down and saw her own glass sitting on the opposite side, untouched.
"I—I'm sorry," she mumbled, her cheeks burning.
Damon gave a soft chuckle, still watching her. "It's alright. You're welcome to steal it—just be ready to owe me one."
She looked away quickly, and picked up her own glass and started gulping it down to calm the rush of heat rising up her neck.
The moment passed, the conversation picked up again. But Arabella barely heard anything now. Her thoughts were stuck in the space between her fingertips and his.
Arabella avoided everyone's eyes.
The conversation flowed around them, but a low hum of tension had settled under Arabella's skin. Damon didn't speak to her again throughout dinner, but his presence beside her was loud in its silence.
And she couldn't stop being aware of it.