With every stolen glance, every secret touch, and inside joke, it was getting harder to act like we were just colleagues. And tonight, with everyone’s attention on me, I felt like we were walking a razor-thin line.
I exhaled loudly. The quieter part of Edge Records felt almost sacred tonight. Most of the lights were dimmed, the glass doors to the studios reflecting soft strips of overhead lighting along the polished floors. My heels echoed faintly as I wandered, fingertips brushing the wall as if the building itself might remember me. The thought that this was my last walk through the building tightened something in my chest.
Three years of my life had lived inside these walls. Early mornings, late nights, coffee runs, dance rehearsals, impossible deadlines… and Nathan. Without really thinking about it, I stopped in front of Studio B, a small smile tugging at my lips.
This was the first room where I’d seen Nathan differently.
I could still remember the day vividly. I’d been new, barely two weeks into the job and had been sent to grab coffee for him. The door had been cracked open just enough for me to peek inside. Kelsey had been in the vocal booth laying down tracks for her second studio album, headphones on, frustration written all over her face after botching the same line for the third time.
And Nathan hadn’t been the ruthless CEO I was growing used to. He’d been leaning over the mixing console, sleeves rolled up, talking to her through the mic with calm patience.
“Let’s run that again,” he’d said, voice steady through the speakers. “But this time don’t think about the note. Think about the feeling.”
I remembered how Kelsey had laughed through the glass and tried again.
And Nathan had smiled.
Not the tight, controlled smirk he wore in meetings.
A real one.
I’d stood frozen in the hallway longer than I should have, watching him work, watching the way the room seemed to orbit around him.
That was the first time I’d felt it. That tiny, inconvenient spark of a crush.
Shaking off the memory, I pushed the studio door open and stepped inside.
The room was quiet now, lit only by the soft glow of the mixing board. The faint thump of music from the party down the hall barely reached this far.
I walked slowly toward the console, trailing my fingers along the edge of the desk before glancing toward the vocal booth.
God, I was really leaving this place.
“Get it together, Elise,” I muttered under my breath.
But no matter how hard I tried to steady myself, Nathan and the way he looked at me earlier tonight like I was the only person in the room, kept intruding into my thoughts.
I exhaled slowly, pressing my palms against the edge of the console. I just needed another minute to breathe, but before I could collect myself, the studio door creaked open behind me and Nathan stepped inside.
I stared as he closed the door quietly behind him, the soft click echoing in the dim studio.
“You’re missing your own party,” I said, folding my arms as if that might steady the sudden flutter in my chest.
Nathan leaned back against the door, hands sliding casually into the pockets of his slacks. His gaze moved over me slow and appreciative, making me glad I had decided on the mini blue dress for tonight.
“I noticed my guest of honor disappeared.” His voice was calm, but there was something heavier beneath it.
“I just needed a minute,” I said. “It’s a lot.”
He studied me for a moment longer before pushing himself off the door and walking further into the studio. “You didn’t like it?” he asked.
My head snapped up. “What? No.” I shook my head quickly. “Nathan, everything is incredible. I just wasn’t expecting it.”
“That was the point.” His lips twitched as he stopped a few feet away from me, the glow from the mixing console lighting the sharp lines of his face.
I gestured vaguely toward the hallway. “You didn’t have to do all of that. The decorations, the DJ, half the label showing up.”
“I know.” The way he said it made my words stall. Nathan’s gaze dropped briefly to the console beside me before lifting again. “I wanted to.”
