Chapter 1: The Unexpected Spark

The night air was warm but carried just enough of a breeze to rustle the leaves overhead. Alina adjusted her light scarf and looked up at the string lights that zigzagged above the lawn, casting a golden glow over the retreat’s bonfire party. Laughter rang out in bursts, champagne flutes clinked, and the smell of roasted marshmallows and grilled kebabs filled the air.

She had only joined the firm a few weeks ago, but the corporate retreat had been the perfect opportunity to blend into the culture and meet her new colleagues outside the sterile glass walls of the office. Still, she felt like an outsider, watching everyone chatter in small cliques like they’d known each other for years.

She found an empty wooden bench near the fire and sank into it with a sigh. The flames danced and crackled in front of her, hypnotic and oddly calming. She pulled her cardigan tighter and let the warmth settle into her bones.

“Mind if I join you?”

The voice startled her—not because it was loud, but because it was low, smooth, and carried a warmth that matched the firelight. She looked up and blinked. The man standing before her was tall, broad-shouldered, and had the kind of effortless confidence that wasn’t cocky but magnetic.

“Not at all,” Alina said, gesturing toward the space beside her.

As he sat, she got a better look. His jawline was sharp, his hair a little tousled like he’d run his hand through it one too many times. His eyes—deep gray with a hint of green—held a calm amusement. He wore a casual button-down and jeans, but somehow managed to make it look like designer wear.

“I’m Ryan,” he said, offering his hand.

She hesitated a second too long before shaking it. “Alina.”

“Ah, the new strategist,” he said, smiling. “I’ve heard about you.”

Her brows lifted. “Already?”

“Well, you know how these things go. New people always get whispered about—especially when they’re the ones who cracked the Sharma pitch in two days.”

She smiled, a bit embarrassed. “That was just luck and too much coffee.”

He laughed. “Modest too. Dangerous combination.”

They talked easily, falling into a rhythm that felt… familiar. He had an easy charm, but he listened intently, like what she said actually mattered. They shared stories about horrible first jobs, office politics, and strange client requests. She laughed more in that one hour than she had in her entire first month at the company.

Somewhere in between teasing banter and the third refill of wine, she felt it—a connection. The kind you couldn’t fake or force. His gaze lingered when she smiled, and her fingers brushed his accidentally as she reached for her glass. Sparks. Real ones.

“So,” she said after a comfortable silence, “You’re Daniel, right? Marketing head?”

He blinked. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “You think I’m Daniel?”

“Aren’t you?” she asked, confused.

He didn’t correct her immediately. Instead, he took a sip of wine, watching her over the rim of his glass. “Do you want me to be Daniel?”

She laughed nervously, trying to recover. “I mean, my friend Priya mentioned he’d be here, and I assumed—”

“I’m not Daniel,” he said gently, setting his glass down. “But I am flattered.”

She stared at him, a slow flush crawling up her neck. “Oh God. I’m so sorry—”

“Don’t be. It happens all the time,” he said easily. “He and I get mistaken for each other more often than we should.”

“You’re friends?”

“Best friends,” he said, his smile softening. “Work together too. He’s upstairs finishing a call, I think.”

Alina wanted to sink into the earth. Not only had she mistaken his identity, but she'd flirted—openly—with her boss’s best friend.

“I feel like an idiot,” she muttered.

“You’re not,” he said quickly. “You’re interesting. And honest. And a terrible guesser, clearly.”

She groaned and buried her face in her hands. He chuckled.

“Let me make it up to you,” he said. “How about a walk down by the lake? I promise, no more identity confusion.”

She looked up slowly. Something about his voice, his offer, felt like a challenge—but not in a dangerous way. More like an invitation to step outside the lines.

She hesitated only a moment before nodding.

They walked slowly, the soft gravel crunching under their shoes, silence folding around them like a shared secret. The moonlight shimmered over the lake, and the air carried the scent of pine and damp earth.

“Do you always come to these retreats?” she asked.

“Every year. Daniel and I started the tradition. He’s all business; I’m more of the... creative detour guy.”

“I can see that,” she said.

He stopped and turned to face her, the light catching the shadows of his face. “Do you believe that people meet for a reason?”

She hesitated. “Sometimes. Maybe. Why?”

“Because I don’t think tonight was random.”

Before she could respond, he leaned forward, slowly, giving her space to stop him. She didn’t. When his lips met hers, soft and certain, the rest of the world dissolved—the lake, the fire, the confusion. Just him. Just now.

She didn’t remember how they ended up back in her cabin. Only the trail of kisses, the way his hands trembled slightly, like he couldn’t believe she was real. She wasn’t thinking about work or her assumptions. Only about how natural it felt.

Later, tangled in sheets and drowsy in his arms, she smiled sleepily and whispered, “Goodnight, Daniel.”

There was a pause.

“I’m not Daniel,” he murmured again, so quietly she didn’t hear.

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