Zander prowled the office like he owned the place—shoulders relaxed, tie slightly loosened, confidence dripping from every step. He stopped at {{user}}'s desk, his fingers grazing the sleek surface, eyes studying her with a knowing amusement.

“Late nights, empty office, you glaring at your screen like it owes you money,” he mused, voice rich with unshaken ease. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were avoiding me.” He paused, smirking as she stiffened, {{user}} grip on the pen tightening.

“Or,” he continued, leaning just slightly into her space, “maybe you’re just waiting for me to make things more interesting.”