Ghosts of the Past

The polished metal of the elevator doors reflected Garrett's pleading expression as he begged Serena not to cancel on him again. She stared at the blurry silver image of them standing side by side. Other employees filtered into the enclosed space, effectively killing the conversation, but his eyes remained fixed on her profile, heavy with expectation.

Serena forced a bright, polite smile, turning just enough to catch his gaze. "I wouldn't dream of it," she murmured, ensuring her voice stayed low enough for only him to hear.

Garrett’s shoulders relaxed. A genuine, relieved smile touched his lips as the elevator chimed and the doors slid open at their floor. He wished her a lovely day and headed down the corridor toward his own department, his step visibly lighter.

The very second Serena crossed the threshold into her luxurious corner office, her polite smile vanished into thin air. Her mind immediately shifted gears, racing to construct a plausible excuse. A headache threatened to form behind her eyes. She bypassed the plush visitor seating area and headed straight for her sleek, modern desk.

"I saw that! Now spill. Do not leave a single detail out."

Serena groaned inwardly. Her sharp-witted assistant, Genevieve, trailed closely behind her, clutching an iPad against her chest and refusing to let the issue slide. Genna shut the heavy glass door, sealing them inside the quiet luxury of the office.

"Not now, Genna. I have already been through enough this morning," Serena said, dropping her purse onto the leather chair.

"You know I am not going to let this go, right?" Genna countered, her heels clicking against the hardwood floor.

"I have nothing to say," Serena replied dryly, booting up her laptop. "Maybe you should go interrogate him if you want a story so badly."

"Nice try, but the story is always sweeter from the source." Genna planted herself in one of the comfortable visitor chairs opposite the desk. She tapped her manicured nails against the back of her iPad. "Let me guess. He reminded you about dinner, and you panicked."

Serena frowned, looking up from her screen. "How did you know?"

"Girl, I know everything." Genna grinned, a triumphant spark in her eyes. "The last time he asked, you made up a flimsy excuse and gave today's date as your free night. He did well by waiting for you at the reception to lock it down."

"He waited?" Serena’s frown deepened.

"I am sure he did. He came up here earlier to ask for you. I told him you had not arrived yet. Ten minutes later, I saw him through the glass wall heading into the elevator. He deliberately paced in the lobby just to catch you walking in so you would not have a chance to change your mind."

Genna leaned forward, her smile widening. "So? We have a date to plan, right? Do not worry about what to wear. I will pull something chic and sexy for you during my lunch break."

Serena glared across the desk. "Stop right there. Your help is not needed. There is no date. I am going to come up with an excuse." She slumped down into her ergonomic chair, rubbing her forehead.

"What excuse could you possibly use this time?"

"I do not know. I will say Chloe caught a cold. I am sure I will think of something believable before tonight."

Genna let out an exasperated sigh. "You used the sick kid excuse three weeks ago. Give Chloe a break and stop using her for your avoidance schemes. Do you realize this is going to be the ninth date you are canceling with Garrett?"

"Perfect. I had no idea you were keeping a tally."

"What are you so afraid of, Ser?"

"Afraid?" Serena scoffed, straightening her posture. "I am not afraid of anything."

"Liar," Genna shot back without missing a beat. "You are a terrible liar."

"Do not start with me, Genna," Serena warned, her tone hardening. "With all the excuses I have given him, can he not just comprehend that I am not interested in whatever romantic schemes he has in mind?"

"Do not be brutal. I am sure he knows you are hesitant. That is why he insisted you two start as friends. He has been patient enough, and the least you can do is go on a friendly dinner date with him."

Serena’s posture remained rigid. She massaged her throbbing temples, the dull ache steadily growing worse. "Whether it is a friendly date or not, I am simply not interested. Especially not in an office romance."

"You know not every man is going to break your heart, right?" Genna asked softly.

"I do not care," Serena stated with absolute finality. "My only focus is my daughter and my career. I do not have the time or the emotional bandwidth for anything else."

"Or maybe you are looking down on him because he is just a manager, and your earnings are higher."

"I do not care about his title or his money. I just want to be left alone." Serena let out a heavy breath. "Can you please just drop it and let me know what is on my agenda today?"

Genna sighed, yielding to her boss's unmovable stubbornness. "Fine. But I should probably mention one last thing." She paused, letting the silence stretch just long enough to ensure Serena was listening. "Today is actually Garrett's birthday."

Serena froze, her hands hovering over the keyboard.

"I wanted to tell you yesterday, but it slipped my mind," Genna added, watching the guilt wash over Serena’s face.

"Great. Now you are trying to guilt-trip me."

"No, this is your own fault. You promised to go out with him today, not knowing you selected his actual birthday. He does not broadcast it. He mostly celebrates alone at home."

"How do you even know that?"

"I did a background check on him," Genna said with a casual shrug. "I stalk him for your benefit. He is a fantastic catch, Serena. There is nothing to worry about. Just go. I am offering to babysit Chloe for the evening. Martha is off duty today, right? I will pick Chloe up from school so you have zero excuses."

"Genna, stop. I am not going."

Accepting defeat for the moment, Genna pivoted sharply to the day's grueling agenda. She swiped her finger across the iPad screen, her demeanor shifting back to pure professionalism.

"Alright, back to business. Barrett will be here soon with your coffee. You have an intense board meeting at 11 AM. After that, you need to execute multiple project wrap-ups on the new product line. The CEO wants to review your presentation drafts, and those are due in three days."

Serena took mental notes, typing rapidly on her laptop as she mentally organized her workflow.

"Then," Genna continued, "you have a crucial off-site meeting at 2 PM."

Serena looked up. "What off-site?"

"Brewster's Cafe. You are meeting with a new client. They have a highly lucrative partnership proposal to pitch. The boss personally nominated you to handle this one. They want your unfiltered opinion on whatever this client's company has to offer before we sign any contracts."

Serena checked the silver watch on her wrist. "Understood. But I will need to wrap up that cafe meeting early. I have to pick up Chloe myself since Martha is off duty."

"Like I said, I can take care of Chloe," Genna offered again with a sly grin.

"No," Serena shot back, a warning glare aimed at her assistant. "I am picking up my daughter. Just make sure the client files are sent to my inbox before noon."

For the next several hours, Serena buried herself in complex spreadsheets, market research, and presentation formatting. She powered through the board meeting, barely pausing to grab a light brunch at her desk before diving back into the partnership proposal documents.

By the time 1:30 PM rolled around, her eyes were burning. She packed her laptop into her designer handbag, smoothed out the wrinkles in her professional dress, and headed for the parking garage.

Navigating the midday city traffic, Serena mentally rehearsed her negotiation tactics. The boss wanted this partnership, but only if the terms were favorable. She pulled into a spot a block away from the location and walked the rest of the way, arriving just before two o'clock.

The brass bell above the door chimes lightly as she stepped inside Brewster's Cafe. The rich aroma of roasted coffee beans and baked pastries washed over her.

Scanning the sparsely populated room, her eyes easily locked onto her target. The afternoon crowd was thin, mostly college students on laptops and a few casual friends catching up over lattes. There was only one person who fit the description of a high-rolling corporate client.

He was a solitary man sitting at a corner table. He wore a sharply tailored, expensive dark suit that stood out against the cafe's rustic aesthetic. His back was turned solidly toward the entrance, making it impossible to see his face. His dark head was bowed in frustration as his thumbs aggressively typed away on his phone screen.

Taking a deep breath to center herself, Serena smoothed the skirt of her dress one last time. She adjusted the strap of her handbag and approached his table with gentle, measured steps.

She stopped a few feet away, plastering on her most winning, professional smile. She opened her mouth to formally introduce herself, extending a hand of greeting.

Before a single word could leave her lips, he beat her to it.

"Why are you just coming?" he snapped without turning around, his tone dripping with impatience.

Serena's body instantly froze.

Her outstretched hand dropped. Her fingers clenched the leather strap of her handbag so hard her knuckles turned stark white. She clung to the bag like a lifeline over an abyss.

It was not just the venomous, demanding harshness in his tone that caused her pulse to instantly double. It was the horrifying, bone-chilling familiarity of the pitch and cadence. The rough texture of the voice wrapped around her throat, suffocating her.

It was the exact, unmistakable voice that had ruthlessly tortured her in her worst nightmares for the past five years. The voice that haunted the darkest corners of her memories.

The stranger continued his tirade, his broad shoulders shifting beneath the expensive fabric. "Can't you talk? I said what took..."

The stranger demanded, but as he suddenly looked up and met her gaze, the rest of his words died in his throat.

Serena's heart stopped.