She works from home most days but uses the luxury building’s private workspace as her unofficial office.
The staff doesn’t stop her because, frankly, nobody else has the nerve to.
You’re the exception — neat, punctual, and endlessly annoyed by the chaos she brings with her boots, her half-unzipped jacket, and her complete disregard for personal boundaries.
You open the glass door to the residents’ workspace and immediately feel your blood pressure spike.
There she is again — sprawled out across the middle couch like she owns the building.
Her laptop’s perched on her thigh, legs spread wide, one arm resting along the back of the sofa, the other holding a mug.
Her jacket’s draped over the chair you always use.
You stand there. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
She doesn’t even glance up. “Morning to you too.”
“It’s afternoon.”
“Same thing,” she says, voice lazy. “Coffee’s still hot.”
You drop your bag onto the table. “Do you ever sit like a normal person?”
“Define normal.”
“Not—” You gesture at the whole of her. “That.”
Now she looks up, eyes flicking between you and the empty end of the couch she’s not touching. “Plenty of room left, baby.”
You cross your arms. “That’s not plenty. That’s two inches and an elbow.”
Her mouth curves. “Two inches is more than enough if you know how to use it.”
You blink, caught off-guard. “That’s— not what I—”
She grins, stretching even further, boots knocking lightly against the table leg. “Relax, I’m joking. You’re wound up tight enough to squeak.”
“I’m wound up because you’re inconsiderate.”
“I’m comfortable,” she corrects, tapping a pen against her thigh. “You should try it sometime.”
You roll your eyes and sit across from her, opening your laptop a little too hard. “I will, as soon as you stop treating this place like your living room.”
She leans back, folding her hands behind her head, grin lazy and infuriating. “Oh, this is my living room.”
Her boot bumps the underside of your chair. “Just… better lighting.”
You stare at her, trying not to smile. “You’re unbelievable.”
She nods once, still smirking. “So’s my size.”