Discovery

By Wednesday, Julian’s claim that he wanted her to be a "ghost" was proving difficult to enforce.

Chloe was not a ghost. She was a poltergeist of domesticity.

When Julian came home on Monday, there were three small succulents on the window sill, named Huey, Dewey, and Louie.

On Tuesday, his stark white bathroom towels had been rearranged into a fan shape.

And on Wednesday, the apartment smelled like a bakery exploded.

Julian walked through the door at 8:00 PM, his head pounding from a deposition that had gone three hours overtime. He expected silence. He found chaos.

The kitchen island, usually a pristine slab of granite, was covered in a fine dusting of white powder. There were bowls everywhere. And Chloe was standing in the middle of it, wearing an oversized t-shirt and headphones, singing Taylor Swift into a wooden spoon.

"...should've said no, you should've gone home..."

She spun around and screamed when she saw him.

"Julian! You're early!" She yanked the headphones down.

Julian stared at the mess. "What happened? Did a cartel raid the pantry?"

"I was stressed," Chloe said, gesturing vaguely with the spoon. "Partner Williamson yelled at me for using the wrong font on a memo. Did you know he has strong feelings about Garamond?"

"Williamson has strong feelings about everything," Julian said, loosening his tie. He walked into the kitchen, his polished oxfords crunching slightly on spilled sugar. "So you destroyed my kitchen?"

"I baked," Chloe corrected. She pointed to a cooling rack. "Chocolate chip sea salt cookies. Want one?"

Julian looked at the cookies. They looked perfect. Golden brown, jagged with chocolate chunks. His stomach growled, betraying his stoic facade.

"I don't eat sugar after six," he said automatically.

"Suit yourself," Chloe shrugged. She picked one up and bit into it, closing her eyes with a groan of pleasure. "Mmm. Your loss. These are restorative."

Julian watched her. He watched a crumb catch on her lower lip. He watched the way the tension of the day seemed to melt off her shoulders.

He walked over, reached out, and plucked a cookie from the rack.

He took a bite. It was warm, gooey, and salty. It was the best thing he had eaten in five years.

"Acceptable," he grunted.

Chloe grinned. It was a weaponized smile. "Admit it. You love it."

"Clean up the flour, Chloe," Julian said, turning away to hide the fact that he was taking a second bite. "And don't be late tomorrow. We have the briefing for the mergers team."

"Yes, boss," she chirped.

Julian retreated to his room. He sat on the edge of his bed, finishing the cookie. He felt a crack forming in the armor he had worn for so long. She was supposed to be annoying. She was supposed to be Ben’s little sister.

She wasn't supposed to make his empty house feel like a home.

\---

The next day at Sterling & Moss was brutal. The firm was a fortress of mahogany and hushed voices, a place where weakness was sniffed out and exploited.

Chloe was trying her best to blend in, wearing a charcoal skirt suit that made her feel like she was playing dress-up.

She sat in the back of the conference room during the merger briefing. The client, a massive tech conglomerate, was trying to acquire a chain of eco-friendly lumber mills. The deal was stalled.

"They're refusing to sell based on the environmental impact report," a senior associate said, rubbing his temples. "They claim our client’s supply chain isn't green enough. We're looking at a dead end."

Julian sat at the head of the table. He looked formidable. "Find a precedent. There has to be a waiver we can leverage."

"We've looked, Julian. There's nothing."

The room fell into a heavy silence.

Chloe raised her hand.

Julian looked at her. His face was impassive, but his eyes held a flicker of warning. *Don't embarrass yourself.*

"Miller?" he said.

"Um," Chloe stood up, smoothing her skirt. "I was reading the deed restrictions on the lumber mills last night. Because I couldn't sleep."

"And?" the senior associate sneered. "We've all read the deeds."

"Did you read the addendum from 1954?" Chloe asked. "The one filed by the grandfather? It says the environmental restriction is void if the purchasing company commits to a 'reforestation initiative equal to 10% of annual yield.'"

Silence.

Julian frowned. He tapped his pen on the table. "Pull it up."

The associate scrambled to project the document. There, in faded typewriter font, was the clause.

"Our client already does that," Julian murmured. "It's part of their standard CSR package."

He looked up at Chloe. For the first time, he didn't look at her like an intern, or a little sister, or a nuisance. He looked at her like a peer.

"Good catch, Miller," he said softy.

The praise hit Chloe like a physical touch. She blushed, sinking back into her chair.

Later that evening, Julian found her in the Archive Room.

It was in the basement of the building, a narrow, dusty room filled with bankers boxes. Chloe was refiling the deeds.

"You saved the deal," Julian said from the doorway.

Chloe jumped. "I just... I like reading the old stuff. It tells a story."

Julian walked in. The room was cramped. He had to stand close to her to let a cart pass in the hallway. The smell of dust and old paper was thick, but underneath it, he could smell her—vanilla and rain.

"You have a good instinct," Julian said. "Ben always said you were the smart one."

"Ben says I'm a scatterbrain," Chloe laughed nervously. She looked up at him. He was so tall. In the dim light, the sharp angles of his face were softened.

"Ben is an idiot," Julian said.

He reached out. Chloe held her breath. He reached for her collar.

"Your blouse is tucked in wrong," he murmured.

His knuckles brushed the skin of her neck. A jolt of electricity arced through them both. Chloe trembled.

Julian froze. He looked down at her, his eyes dark and dilated. He could kiss her. It would be so easy. It would be a disaster.

He pulled his hand back, clenching it into a fist at his side.

"Fix it," he said roughly. "We have the gala tomorrow. Don't look sloppy."

He turned and walked out, leaving Chloe standing in the dust, her heart hammering a frantic rhythm against her ribs.

\---