Chapter 2 Behind Closed Doors

Clara didn’t expect much from another typical Monday morning. She’d long since learned that Mondays were a cruel reminder of just how much she hated her job. But today? Today was different. The moment she stepped into her office, she was greeted by the loud ringing of her phone, a reminder that the chaos was already beginning. She was barely settled at her desk before the voicemail alert popped up. "Clara, we need you in the meeting in 15 minutes. We’re finalizing the proposal for the Nightingale project today. Can you handle it?" It was her boss, Frank, and if there was one thing she had learned over the last two years, it was that Frank’s requests weren’t requests—they were more like commands wrapped in a layer of corporate politeness. But that wasn’t what caught her attention. No, what stopped her in her tracks was the second part of his message. "...Julian Nightingale will be there too. I know you two have a history, but just keep it professional, alright?" Clara’s hand froze over her desk. History? She wasn’t sure whether to laugh or throw her phone out the window. There was no history between her and Julian—except the fact that they loathed each other with an intensity that could light up the entire city. Her fingers drummed on the desk as she stared at the phone in disbelief. “History,” she muttered to herself, almost chuckling. There was no way Frank knew about her high school years with Miranda. That particular brand of history was long buried, and no one—not even Frank—needed to know about it. The sound of a knock at her door broke her out of her thoughts. “Clara, you in there?” Olivia’s voice echoed from the other side. “Yeah, come in.” Clara stood and grabbed her jacket, trying to shake off the uncomfortable thought of Julian’s name hanging over her head. Olivia stepped in, her eyes immediately narrowing. “What’s wrong?” Clara raised an eyebrow. “What makes you think something’s wrong?” “You’ve got that look on your face,” Olivia said, crossing her arms. “The one you get when you’re about to start planning something... underhanded.” Clara smirked. “I’m not planning anything underhanded. I’m just... thinking about the meeting. The Nightingale meeting.” Olivia's face softened into a knowing grin. “Ah. You and Julian, huh? Frank mentioned something about your history.” She made air quotes, which made Clara groan internally. “I swear, I’m going to strangle Frank one of these days.” Clara sighed as she slipped her jacket on and turned toward the door. “I don’t even know why he thinks we’ve got history. We’ve never even had a conversation that didn’t end in me wanting to throw my coffee at him.” Olivia’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Well, you know the best way to deal with rivals, right?” Clara paused. “No, but I’m sure you’re about to tell me.” “Outshine them,” Olivia said with a grin. “And make it look easy. You’re a master at that.” Clara rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress the smile tugging at her lips. Olivia always knew how to lighten the mood, even if Clara wasn’t quite as sure about her “mastery” over anything. “Let’s just get this over with,” Clara muttered. “If nothing else, I’ll get to see Julian’s oh-so-perfect face for an entire hour.” Olivia laughed. “You’ve got it bad, Bellamy.” ⚡ The meeting was as tedious as Clara had expected. The Nightingale project was just another high-stakes deal in a long list of deals—business as usual. The only thing that made it different was Julian’s presence. Clara entered the conference room with Olivia by her side, but her eyes immediately locked on him. Julian was already there, his posture confident, his gaze scanning the room with that same calculating look he always wore. He wasn’t paying attention to Clara yet. He was too busy talking to his business partner, and Clara took that as an opportunity to set up her presentation materials. But just as she was about to sit down, Julian’s voice cut through the air. “Ah, Miss Bellamy. I see the rival has arrived.” Clara rolled her eyes. “Keep talking, Nightingale. I’ll make sure you eat your words later.” Julian gave her a casual, almost amused smile, clearly undeterred by her sarcastic remark. “That’s the spirit. Can’t win if you don’t play.” “Let’s hope you’re not playing checkers, because this is chess.” Clara shot back, her dry humor slipping into her words. Julian chuckled, but there was something else in his gaze now. An edge that wasn’t there before, a quiet challenge that only she seemed to notice. And for a brief moment, Clara wondered if he was actually taking her seriously. The meeting went on, dragging as expected. Everyone was too focused on their notes, too caught up in the details to notice the undercurrent of tension between Clara and Julian. It was subtle—an exchange of words, a flick of the eyes—but it was there, simmering just below the surface. By the time the meeting ended, Clara was exhausted. The last thing she wanted to do was stick around and engage in any more of Julian’s mind games, but as she packed up her things, she caught him watching her from across the room. His eyes were intense, unreadable. For a moment, Clara wondered if he was actually thinking about something beyond their rivalry. But before she could figure out what that was, he was already heading for the door. "Good luck with the proposal, Miss Bellamy," he called over his shoulder. Clara stared after him, a feeling she couldn’t quite place swirling in her gut. "Yeah, right," she muttered to herself. "Good luck."