informal deal

"Crossing Paths Again"

familiar hum of office chatter surrounded her as Elara stepped into the sleek, glass-walled building, her heart racing beneath the calm facade she’d carefully constructed. It was her first day as an intern at one of the city’s top firms—a chance she couldn’t afford to mess up. But as she adjusted her bag on her shoulder and walked towards the reception desk, her mind wandered to a name she’d hoped to leave behind.

Tyler Hartman ;The son of the firm’s CEO, and the last person she wanted to deal with. Elara had graduated from Lincoln University just a few months ago, and though she hadn’t exactly been friends with Tyler, their paths had crossed more times than she cared to remember. He was everything she couldn’t stand—arrogant, reckless, a walking red flag in every sense.

Her fingers clenched the strap of her bag as memories of their university days flashed in her mind. Tyler, with his devil-may-care attitude, always breaking rules, always getting away with things that would have destroyed anyone else. And her, always focused, always disciplined, clawing her way through school despite the weight of her past.

Elara knew his type too well. The bad boy who had everything handed to him on a silver platter but still wore his trauma like a badge, using it as an excuse for every wrong turn. They had never gotten along, but she had never expected to see him again—especially not here.

“Welcome to Hartman Industries,” the receptionist greeted her with a polite smile, pulling Elara out of her thoughts. She forced a smile in return, nodding as she was directed towards her orientation meeting.

Across the hall, Tyler was leaning back in his father’s office, barely listening to another lecture about “responsibility” and “carrying on the family legacy.” He had just graduated, but the ink on his diploma was barely dry before his father had dragged him into the company. Everyone expected him to be the perfect heir, but he had no intention of living up to their expectations. The truth was, he didn't care about any of it.

His life had been chaos for as long as he could remember, and he wore his indifference like armor. He lived fast, partied harder, and avoided anything that resembled attachment or responsibility. Everyone knew it, but no one dared to say it aloud—except maybe that girl, Elara back at Lincoln. She was the only one who ever called him out on his bullshit, and he hadn’t forgotten it.

As he left his father’s office, his gaze landed on a familiar face. Elara. Of course.

“Just my luck,” he muttered under his breath, watching her from a distance. It seemed like their little beef from university wasn’t quite over.

Elara didn’t notice him at first, but when she did, her stomach tightened. Great. Just great. This was going to be harder than she thought.