Victoria had spent nearly twenty minutes in the hotel's private lounge on the second floor, trying to clear her head after Richard Evans's uncomfortable confrontation. His words echoed in her mind; not many men could handle someone like you, along with his uncomfortably accurate assessment of her dating patterns and his probing questions about whether there was someone who didn't fit her usual profile.
The elegant room with its leather furniture and soft lighting had provided the sanctuary she needed to process the unsettling conversation. She had forced herself not to think of James or his absence or anything about him at all. She needed the break, to cool her never-ending thoughts of the man examined.
Now, having restored her CEO mask to its proper position, Victoria prepared to return to the celebration. She smoothed her black gown, checked her reflection in the room's antique mirror, and stepped back into the hallway with the confident stride that had carried her through countless corporate battles.
The marble staircase led her back down to the ballroom's warm glow, where the anniversary celebration continued in full swing. Conversations flowed around elegantly appointed tables while servers moved with practiced efficiency, refilling champagne glasses and clearing dessert plates. The string quartet had been replaced by a small orchestra, their music providing a sophisticated backdrop to the evening's festivities.
Victoria paused in the ballroom's entrance, scanning the room to reorient herself after her time away, and felt the world tilt dangerously off its axis.
There, at the bar across the room, stood a man who made her breath catch in her throat.
It took her a moment to recognize James.
The man accepting a drink from the bartender bore little resemblance to the polished assistant she had known for three years. Gone was the carefully controlled hair, replaced by soft waves that fell across his forehead in a way that emphasized the classical beauty of his features. The small mole beneath his right eye…had it always been there?, drew attention to the line of his cheekbone and the intensity of his dark gaze. Even his clothing choices spoke of deliberate transformation: the black shirt left tantalizingly unbuttoned at the collar, the perfectly tailored blazer that emphasized the breadth of his shoulders.
He looked devastatingly handsome. Magnetic in a way that made her chest tighten with emotions she refused to examine too closely.
Victoria found herself studying his profile as he spoke with the bartender, noting details she'd somehow missed during years of daily interaction. Had his jawline always been that defined? Had she simply never noticed the way shadows played across his features when he was deep in thought?
But as her eyes traced the familiar lines of his face transformed by this new styling, Victoria became aware of movement beside him. A woman in a deep blue silk was settling onto the barstool next to James, her auburn hair catching the ambient lighting as she leaned closer to him.
Katherine Days. Victoria recognized her immediately; head of Hauser Analytics, a successful executive, attractive and accomplished in her own right.
Victoria watched, transfixed, as Katherine's hand settled possessively on James's arm while she spoke to him. The gesture was casual but unmistakably territorial, her fingers resting against the fabric of his blazer with the kind of familiarity that suggested comfort with physical contact.
James turned to give Katherine his attention, and Victoria could see his polite smile, the way he tilted his head to hear her comments over the orchestra's gentle melodies. Katherine leaned closer as she spoke, her body language screaming intimacy even as she maintained the veneer of professional courtesy.
The sight hit Victoria like a physical blow.
Something violent and absolutely foreign erupted in her chest, a sensation so intense and unfamiliar that for a moment she wondered if she was having some kind of cardiac episode. Heat flooded her veins, her hands clenched involuntarily at her sides, and every instinct screamed at her to cross the room and physically separate them.
The rational part of her mind, the CEO who had built an empire through analytical thinking and emotional control, recognized the feeling immediately, even as she recoiled from its implications.
Jealousy. Raw, primitive, utterly unprofessional jealousy.
Victoria Sharp did not get jealous. Victoria Sharp had never experienced this particular brand of territorial rage because Victoria Sharp had never wanted anything or anyone badly enough to feel threatened by potential loss.
Yet here she stood, her manicured nails cutting crescents into her palms as she watched Katherine Days touch James with the casual confidence of someone staking a claim. The woman's fingers traced along his sleeve as she spoke, her body language screaming possession in a way that made Victoria's vision actually blur around the edges.
She wanted to tear Katherine's perfectly manicured hands away from James's arm. Wanted to step between them with the commanding presence that made boardrooms fall silent. Wanted to make it crystal clear that James belonged–
Belonged to what? To whom?
The thought stopped her cold. James didn't belong to her. He was her Chief Strategic Officer, her former assistant, her employee. Whatever complicated dynamic existed between them, whatever unresolved tension lingered from their confrontation; it gave her no claim over his personal interactions.
The logical understanding did nothing to diminish the fire burning in her chest.
Victoria forced herself to move forward, accepting a fresh glass of champagne from a passing waiter as she rejoined the celebration. She smiled at acquaintances, engaged in small talk about market trends, and maintained the polished façade that had become second nature over years of corporate networking.
However, her eyes kept drifting toward the bar like iron filings drawn to a magnet.
She watched Katherine lean closer to James as they spoke, her hand maintaining its possessive grip on his arm. Watched the woman's auburn hair fall forward as she whispered something that made James nod thoughtfully. Watched other guests' notice the attractive pair at the bar, their approving glances suggesting Katherine and James made a striking couple.
Every interaction felt like sandpaper against Victoria's nerves.
When Mikhail and Anastasia Petrov took the small stage to make their anniversary speech, Victoria applauded at appropriate moments while her attention remained fractured. The older couple spoke movingly about twenty-five years of partnership, about weathering challenges together and celebrating triumphs as a team. Their obvious devotion should have been touching; instead, Victoria found herself stealing glances at James's profile as he listened with respectful attention from his position at the bar.
"Don't they make a lovely couple?"
The comment came from Margaret Fielding, a prominent local philanthropist who had approached Victoria during the applause. Victoria followed the woman's gaze toward the bar and felt her stomach drop.
Margaret was clearly referring to James and Katherine, who had moved even closer together during the speech. Katherine's other hand had joined the first, both now resting on James's arm as she spoke directly into his ear. The intimate positioning made them look like longtime partners sharing private observations about the celebration.