Victoria's expression remained unreadable as she considered the situation. James could see her weighing efficiency against her desire to maintain their new professional distance.
"Amara," Victoria said finally, "please give us a moment."
The young woman nodded quickly, gathering some papers before retreating toward the copy room. Victoria waited until she was out of earshot before speaking.
"This isn't appropriate, James. You're an executive now, not an assistant."
James continued adjusting the document formatting as he replied, "I'm aware of my position. I'm also aware that you need these materials perfect for tomorrow's presentation, and Amara is still getting up to speed."
"She needs to learn," Victoria countered.
"She will," James agreed. "But not tonight, not with this deadline. You hired me for strategic thinking—this is strategic. Perfect materials tomorrow mean a better chance at closing the expansion deal."
Victoria studied him, clearly trying to find the flaw in his logic. When she couldn't, her shoulders relaxed incrementally. "Fine. This once. But don't make a habit of undermining the hierarchical structure I've established."
James nodded, returning his attention to the screen. "Of course. The projections you requested are on your desk, by the way. I've adjusted the Q4 numbers based on the currency fluctuation patterns."
Victoria hesitated, seeming about to say something more, then simply nodded. "Thank you. I'll review them now."
As she returned to her office, James allowed himself a small smile. Victoria's objection had been perfunctory at best. Despite her words, he suspected she was secretly relieved to have his expertise ensuring the materials met her exacting standards.
More importantly, his presence outside her office guaranteed they would interact throughout the evening—something that might not have happened had he simply delivered the projections and returned to his own office.
For the next hour, James worked on formatting the presentation while occasionally stepping into Victoria's office to clarify points about the projections. Each time, he was careful to maintain professional distance while finding subtle ways to remind her of their established working rhythm.
At 10:45 PM, with the formatting complete and Amara sending the finalized documents to the printer, James knocked on Victoria's open door. She looked up from her tablet, the blue light illuminating the fatigue beginning to show around her eyes.
"The presentation materials are printing now," he informed her. "Amara's binding them in the conference room."
Victoria nodded, setting down her tablet. "Thank you. The projections you revised work much better with the new market analysis."
"I thought they might," James replied. He gestured to the empty coffee mug on her desk. "Would you like a fresh cup? It's going to be a long night."
Victoria hesitated, her gaze flicking to his hands before quickly returning to his face. "That's not necessary."
"I'm making one for myself anyway," James said with casual confidence. Without waiting for her response, he picked up her mug and headed to the executive kitchen.
As he prepared the coffee—black with exactly half a teaspoon of raw sugar, heated to precisely 165 degrees, fourteen stirs clockwise—James reflected on the deliberate nature of his actions. Before his promotion, making Victoria's coffee had been an expected part of his job. Now, it was a choice—one that reminded them both of their history while acknowledging their new dynamic.
When he returned to her office, Victoria was standing at the window, looking out at the city lights. She turned as he entered, her expression carefully composed despite the late hour.
"Here," he said, extending the mug toward her.
Victoria approached, her movements measured. When she reached for the coffee, James didn't immediately release it, forcing her to make eye contact. For a brief moment, they both held the mug, fingers not quite touching but close enough that the warmth between their hands created an almost tangible connection.
"Thank you," Victoria said softly, her voice lower than usual as she finally took the mug from him.
James nodded, stepping back. "The Q3 projections still need adjusting for the Australian market variables. Would you like me to work on those now?"
Victoria took a sip of coffee, unable to completely hide her appreciation for the perfect preparation. "Yes, that would be helpful. We can review them together once Amara returns with the bound presentations."
For the next two hours, they worked in Victoria's office, James at the conference table and Victoria at her desk. They maintained professional conversation, focused entirely on the project, yet James was acutely aware of the underlying current between them. Each time he approached her desk to show her revised figures, he was careful to stand close enough that she would need to lean in to see his tablet—never crossing lines of propriety but deliberately creating moments of proximity.
At 1:17 AM, with the final revisions complete and the presentation materials perfectly prepared, Victoria finally conceded they had done all they could for the night.
"You should go home," she told him, closing her laptop. "Get some rest before tomorrow's presentation."
James gathered his materials unhurriedly. "What about you?"
"I'll leave shortly," Victoria replied, though they both knew she was likely to stay at least another hour.
James hesitated by the door. "The presentation is solid. The expansion strategy is sound. Tomorrow will go well."
Victoria looked up at him, fatigue evident in the slight softening of her usually perfect posture. For a moment, her CEO mask slipped, revealing a glimpse of vulnerability beneath the composed exterior.
"I appreciate your confidence," she said quietly. "And your help tonight."
The simple acknowledgment, offered in the quiet of her office in the early morning hours, felt more significant than it should have. James recognized it for what it was—a rare moment of Victoria allowing herself to depend on someone else, however slightly.
"That's what partners do," he replied deliberately, using the term they'd both carefully avoided. "Support each other."
Victoria's gaze sharpened at his choice of words, but she didn't correct him. Instead, she simply nodded once, her expression thoughtful.
"Goodnight, James," she said softly.
"Goodnight, Victoria," he answered, lingering a moment longer than necessary before turning to leave.
As he walked through the darkened office toward the elevator, James felt a quiet satisfaction. The wall Victoria maintained was still firmly in place, but tonight he'd found another hairline crack—another point of vulnerability in her carefully constructed defenses.
Each such moment brought him closer to the woman behind the CEO façade. The woman who prepared his office exactly as he preferred, who defended him fiercely in meetings, who watched him when she thought he wouldn't notice. The woman who had reacted with undeniable electricity when their fingers had touched over a simple coffee mug.
Victoria might insist on maintaining professional distance, but James was increasingly certain of what lay beneath her cool exterior. With patience and strategic persistence, he would continue finding ways through her defenses—not to exploit her vulnerability, but to finally bridge the carefully maintained gap between them.
In the dim light of his car as he drove home, James touched the platinum tiepin at his throat—the physical symbol of Victoria's trust she'd given him weeks ago. Tonight had been another small victory in a longer campaign, another careful step toward breaking through the deliberate distance Victoria insisted on maintaining.
And if there was one thing James excelled at, it was patient persistence in pursuit of what truly mattered.