Madison

The walk to his office felt like crossing a minefield in stilettos. Each step brought me closer to potential disaster. What if he’d noticed the wedding planning tabs I’d accidentally left open during our morning meeting? What if he remembered calling me Katherine?

Standing outside his door, I took a deep breath. Whatever happened, I’d handle it with grace and professionalism. Or at least try not to cry on his expensive furniture.

I pushed open the door, half expecting to find Alexander surrounded by printouts of my secret virtual assistant activities. Instead, he sat at his desk, looking annoyingly put together while I felt like a house plant that hadn’t been watered in weeks.

“Miss Harper.” He gestured to the chair across from him. “Have a seat.”

I perched on the edge like it might bite me. “Is something wrong?”

“That’s what I wanted to ask you.” His blue eyes fixed on me with laser focus. “You’ve seemed distracted lately. More than usual.”

Was he keeping a log of my distraction levels?

“I noticed you almost sent the Singapore proposal to our Tokyo office this morning.”

Oh god. I had done that. “I caught it before-”

“Yesterday, you scheduled my lunch meeting for 3 AM.”

“That was…” Actually, I had no defense for that one. I’d been coordinating a destination wedding timeline for Emily when I made that calendar entry.

“Is everything alright?” His voice softened. “Your mother – how is she doing?”

His genuine concern caught me off guard. “She’s stable. Thank you for asking and for sending John that day.”

“Madison.” He leaned forward, and my heart did a weird flip. “If you need help, just say it.”

I blinked. Was this Alexander Knight offering emotional support? Maybe I’d fallen asleep at my desk, and this was some weird dream brought on by too much coffee and wedding planning tutorials.

“I…” The words stuck in my throat. Was he asking as my boss? As the guy who’d drunkenly made out with me and called me another woman’s name? As a concerned friend?

Friend? Yeah right. Next, I’d start believing in unicorns and affordable Manhattan rent.

As if reading my internal crisis, he added, “The company has programs for employees facing emergencies. Medical assistance, temporary leave, financial support.”

Oh. Right. This was Professional Alexander. Much safer territory than whatever that other thing was.

“Thank you, Mr. Knight. I’ll look into those programs if- when I need them.” I forced a smile that looked more like a facial cramp.

“You don’t need to wait until things get desperate.” He raised an eyebrow. “That’s not exactly the best business strategy.”

Coming from the man who once bought an entire yacht because he liked its rich name. But I kept that thought to myself.

“I appreciate the concern, really. But I’ve got everything under control.” Like a tornado had control of Kansas.

“Of course.” He leaned back, clearly not believing a word. “Just remember my door is always open.”

“Thank you, sir.” I stood up, ready to escape, before he could sense my mounting panic or notice the wedding planning spreadsheet I’d minimized on my desktop.

“Oh, and Madison?”

I froze halfway to the door. “Yes?”

“Next time you schedule a 3 AM lunch meeting, ensure it’s with someone in a different time zone. At least then we can pretend it was intentional.”

Was that a joke? From Alexander Knight? I may have fallen asleep at my desk.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” I hurried out before he could notice my face turning the color of a fire truck.

The next few days were a whirlwind of chaos and caffeine. My life became an endless loop of office work, virtual assistant tasks, and wedding planning research.

“Madison, are you okay?” Hazel’s voice crackled through my phone one evening as I hunched over my laptop, fingers flying over the keyboard.

“Define ‘okay,’” I muttered, switching tabs between Alexander’s schedule and a vendor contact list. “If by ‘okay,’ you mean drowning in work and contemplating living off ramen noodles to save money, then yeah, totally okay.”

“You need to take a break.”

“A break?” I laughed humorlessly. “What’s that? Some kind of new app?”

“Just don’t burn out, alright? We need you sane.”

“Sane is overrated,” I mumbled, eyeing the clock. It was well past midnight. Again.

I fell into a rhythm – or, more accurately, a controlled tailspin. Every waking hour was accounted for, every minute planned out with military precision. It worked fine until Thursday afternoon, when everything went spectacularly wrong.

“Miss Harper!” Alexander’s voice boomed through the intercom. “Where’s Mr. Chen?”

My heart stopped. Mr. Chen? The important client we had scheduled to meet at… oh no.

Verify captcha to read the contentVerify