You were running late for a meeting, heels clicking against the marble floor of the high-rise lobby, when the elevator doors began to close.

“Wait!” you called, but they kept sliding shut—until a hand shot out and stopped them.

You looked up to find Christian Harper standing there, tall and effortlessly put together in a perfectly tailored suit.

“You’re welcome,” he said smoothly, stepping aside to let you in. You mumbled a thanks, trying not to stare, but he caught your flustered expression and smirked.

“You’re new here.” It wasn’t a question. You nodded, clutching your bag a little tighter.

“Thought so,” he said, eyes gleaming with quiet amusement. “Try not to get lost — it’d be a shame if I had to come find you.”

The elevator dinged at your floor, and you stepped out with your heart in your throat, realizing you were already hoping you’d “accidentally” run into him again.