Chapter 4 : The First Move

The hours crawled by beneath the sterile glow of the office lights. Ava sat at her desk with spreadsheets open in front of her, the columns of numbers swimming until they lost all meaning. The quiet drone of printers and distant conversations faded to a low hum. She tried to concentrate, but her mind slipped away like water through her fingers.

She thought of Ethan, remembering the warmth in his voice that morning on the phone, the way his words usually steadied her. She pictured his easy smile and the gentle way he touched her hand when they crossed a street together. For a moment she tried to hold on to that image and let it calm the restless ache inside her.

Yet Victor intruded anyway.

Every time she blinked, his face returned with unnerving clarity. She recalled the dark focus of his eyes, the faint spice of his cologne, the quiet command in his presence. She could almost feel the ghost of his breath at her ear, a memory so vivid it made her stomach tighten. She shook her head and typed faster, as if the clatter of keys might drive him from her thoughts.

The screen blurred. Ethan’s face receded like a photograph left too long in the sun while Victor’s remained sharp and close. Ava pressed her palms flat on the desk, willing herself to stay in the present, but the memory of that dream and of him refused to loosen its hold.

By 12pm, the office had settled into its usual pre-lunch lull. Ava glanced at the clock, debating whether she should grab a salad or just drink water, when her phone buzzed on the desk. She reached for it absentmindedly, expecting a message from Ethan or a coworker. To her surprise, it was not a message at all. It was a Facebook notification she had not expected.

Victor Hayes has sent you a friend request.

Her breath caught and her pulse skipped a beat. She blinked at the screen, convinced she must be imagining it. Victor, Ethan’s uncle, the man whose kiss on her cheek the night before still lingered in her memory. Her thumb hovered over the notification, frozen between curiosity and caution, unsure whether to accept or turn away.

Why would he add her? Was this just him being friendly? She was technically part of the family now. Maybe he was just trying to be polite. Ava set her phone face down on the desk, forcing herself to get back to work but she couldn’t stop thinking about it.

It was as if his name was glowing on the back of her phone, demanding her attention. Her mind wandered, remembering the smooth rumble of his voice, the way he had opened doors for her like a gentleman, the subtle strength in his hands. She thought of the restaurant, of him standing so calm and commanding, and a shiver ran through her.

When her phone buzzed again, she couldn’t resist flipping it over. The friend request was still there, sitting at the top of her notifications like a dare.

Her finger hesitated over the screen. “It’s just a Facebook request,” she whispered to herself, biting her lip. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

And then she pressed Accept.

The moment her finger left the screen, a flutter of heat rose in her chest. She set the phone aside quickly, hoping the rush of nerves would fade, but they lingered stubbornly. Her eyes returned to the spreadsheet, yet the numbers blurred into meaningless lines. Every time she tried to focus, his face appeared in her mind, the faint spice of his cologne lingering, the memory of his hand brushing past her sending an involuntary shiver through her.

She told herself it was harmless, that accepting a friend request did not mean anything. Still, her pulse betrayed her, quickening with a mix of curiosity and something she was not ready to name. Her work lay abandoned, and the quiet office felt impossibly still, as though it were holding its breath with her, waiting for whatever might come next.

Then a ping cut through the silence, that unmistakable ringtone she used for Facebook messages. Her heart skipped, and she grabbed her phone almost instinctively. On the screen was Victor’s name, and the words made her chest tighten.

Victor Hayes: Good afternoon, Ava.

Her breath caught. She opened the message, her fingers trembling slightly, unsure whether to feel excited, alarmed, or something dangerously in between.

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, uncertain how to respond. A polite “Hello” felt too stiff, too careful, yet anything too casual seemed reckless. She exhaled slowly, forcing herself to type.

Ava: Good afternoon, Mr Hayes.

She stared at the words, biting her lip as heat rose to her cheeks. It was simple, harmless, yet even in those four small words, she could feel the weight of the exchange pressing against her. Almost immediately, the typing bubble appeared. Her stomach tightened as anticipation prickled along her spine.

Victor Hayes: Haha, what’s with the formalities today, Ava? Please, call me Victor, like you always do. Mr. Hayes is my father, and somehow it makes me sound old and boring.

Ava’s cheeks warmed at the ease in his words. He had a way of speaking even through text that made him feel close, as if he were leaning back in a chair, confident, amused, watching her react.

Ava: Oh… I am very sorry, Victor. How are you this afternoon?

Her fingers hovered over the send button longer than necessary, and she pressed it finally with a soft exhale. The simple act of addressing him by his first name made her pulse lurch unexpectedly, a mixture of curiosity, caution, and a heat she didn’t know how to name.

Victor Hayes: I’m doing well, thank you. And you? How’s your afternoon going so far?

Ava: It’s... alright. A bit slow, I suppose. Lots of spreadsheets and numbers.

Victor Hayes: Sounds thrilling. And since it’s lunch time, tell me, what are you having?

Ava: Probably just a salad. How about you.

Victor Hayes: Definitely not a salad.

Ava: Oh? And why not? What’s wrong with a salad?

Victor Hayes: Because it has no meat. And anyone who knows me knows I worship meat. A salad won’t satisfy me, and honestly, I think it might cry if I even looked at it.

Ava blinked at her phone, a laugh escaping her lips despite herself. She hadn’t realized Victor could be this funny.

Ava: Careful, Victor. You’ll end up with one of those… what do they call them? Oh yes steak-related injuries. Or heart attacks. Then there's what you call a cow revolt, I heard it's dangerous.

Victor Hayes: I bind and rebuke all of that. No choking shall locate me today. As for heart attacks, the morning walk from my bed to my fridge is enough to keep this old heart in shape. And as for the cow revolt… come on, we both know they don’t have the balls to break out.

Ava snorted, covering her mouth to keep from laughing out loud.

Victor Hayes: Now, if it were chickens… I’d be scared. Did you see Chicken Run? Those little buggers built a plane. Even I didn’t see that coming.

Victor Hayes: But if, bare with me here, I say if because I don’t believe in them but if the cows do revolt, I will be waiting for them patiently with my AK-47 and chilli sauce.

Ava: Those two only? Didn’t know you liked your steak raw.

Victor Hayes: If a thousand cows are charging your way, you hardly think of firing up your grill. Haha. But just so you know, if you ever want to treat me to a steak, I like mine grilled to the bone.

Ava: Grilled to the bone? Haven’t heard that one before.

Victor Hayes: Haha, that’s because I just made it up.

They continued texting, the absurdity of the conversation keeping Ava laughing softly to herself. Every reply brought a new smirk or a giggle, and she found herself leaning back in her chair, forgetting entirely about her lunch. Time slipped by unnoticed, until she heard the soft murmur of voices and the shuffle of footsteps as people returned from lunch. The office gradually came back to life, the quiet lull replaced by the familiar sound of chairs scraping, printers whirring, and casual greetings floating through the air.

Ava: Oh my goodness… my lunch break is over. Did I just time travel. I feel like we just started talking. I guess that salad is officially out of the equation now.

Victor Hayes: Haha, I know, right? Time has a way of disappearing when people are having fun. And yes, that salad has officially been sacrificed to the text gods.

Ava let out a soft laugh, shaking her head at her phone. She couldn’t believe how easy it was to forget the world around her while texting him.

Ava: Honestly, Victor, you should come with a warning label. Highly distracting. Side effects may include laughter, lost time, and absolutely no focus on work.

Victor Hayes: Oh, come on, you love it. Admit it. And besides, I think your spreadsheets secretly appreciate the break.

Ava smirked.

Ava: Maybe… but I don’t think my boss would appreciate it if I suddenly started giggling every five seconds.

Victor Hayes: Then we’ll call it professional training. Laughing at my texts builds character and improves productivity. Very scientific.

Ava: I’ll have to report this breakthrough to HR then. Don’t want them missing out on your… science.

Victor Hayes: Ha! HR wouldn’t know what hit them. Anyway, what time are you getting off work today? I want to make it up to you for robbing you of lunch.

Ava: That's not necessary. I’ll probably just go home and cook, or maybe swing by Ethan’s. He makes mean mac and cheese.

Ethan. The name hit her like a jolt of guilt. She realized how completely absorbed she had been in texting Victor that she had hardly thought about him or reached out to him all lunch. Her stomach twisted suddenly, the familiar pang of guilt curling low.

Victor Hayes: Sounds nice. Or, you could just join me for dinner at my restaurant. I promise I’ll make sure to treat you like the queen you are.

Ava’s fingers hovered over the keyboard, her pulse quickening despite herself. She didn’t want to overthink it, but the weight of it hit her all at once. Already, she had spent her entire lunch break texting Victor without Ethan’s knowledge, and now the suggestion of dinner made her stomach twist. It was all too much, the thrill, the guilt, the forbidden pull, and she wasn’t sure how to untangle it.

Ava: I can’t, Victor. Thank you for the offer, though. I really need to get back to work now. Have a good day.

Victor Hayes: Alright, alright. But if you change your mind, my offer stands. Don’t be shy. Call me.

He sent his number, tucked neatly beneath the message. Ava quickly slid her phone into her bag, her heart still fluttering from the conversation, a warm, thrilling pulse lingering in her chest.

She let out a soft exhale, trying to steady herself, willing the racing of her mind to settle. She turned back to her spreadsheets, tapping at numbers that now blurred together, but no matter how hard she tried, her thoughts kept straying. She imagined him lounging somewhere, typing those words with that infuriatingly calm confidence, and despite herself, a small, mischievous smile curved her lips.

The office had come back to life around her. The hum of printers, the shuffle of papers, the distant chatter, all seemed muted, like she was hearing it through a haze. Victor’s words had left a residue of warmth she could not shake, and for the first time all day, she realized just how dangerous a simple conversation could be.

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