"Echoes of Unseen Fate"

Chapter 9

Alexander POV

It's been a week since the meeting. Since meeting Amaya. After that day, she sent me a text, just to say thank you for the food. I won't lie, when her text popped up, I felt... happy. I don't even know why. Never thought I'd get excited about a text from anyone, especially not a girl. It sounds ridiculous, but I've never cared about people before. I actually can't stand most of them.

And yet, here I am, unable to get her out of my head. My mind keeps wandering, wondering how she's doing, what she's up to, and I'm starting to think I'm losing it.

I was snapped out of my thoughts when Aaron strolled into my office, giving me a sly look.

"What?" I ask, already knowing whatever's on his mind is bound to be ridiculous—and, of course, I was right.

"You know, ever since last week's meeting, someone's been extra sensitive," he says.

I roll my eyes and lean back in my chair. "Sensitive? You've got to be kidding me."

Aaron smirks, leaning against the doorframe. "Oh, come on, man. Don't think I didn't notice the way you've been zoning out lately."

I tense up for a second, trying to play it off. "You're imagining things."

"Am I?" Aaron crosses his arms, clearly enjoying this far too much. "Look, I'm just saying, for a guy who never gets distracted, you've been... well, distracted."

"Drop it, Aaron," I warn, my voice sharper than I intended.

"Fine, fine," he holds his hands up in mock surrender, but the knowing grin is still plastered on his face. "Just don't say I didn't notice when you start doing something about it."

I shake my head as he walks out, the door closing behind him. The last thing I need is Aaron jumping to conclusions. But, even though I try to brush it off, his words linger more than I'd like.

I try to refocus, staring at the paperwork scattered across my desk. There's a mountain of deadlines looming, but for some reason, none of it feels pressing right now. I tap my pen against the desk, hoping the rhythm will clear my head.

But, as much as I try to push it aside, my mind drifts back to her.

Amaya Hart.

We've only crossed paths a few times, and each interaction has been brief, professional even. Yet, somehow, she's managed to occupy more space in my thoughts than I'd like to admit. It's not like me to get caught up on someone I barely know.

My phone buzzes, pulling me out of my thoughts again. I glance at the screen—an email from the board reminding me of the upcoming presentation. Just great, another thing to add to the list. I sigh and toss the phone aside, leaning back in my chair.

I know I need to focus, but my mind keeps circling back. I shake it off. Whatever this is, it's nothing.

I pick up my pen, determined to get back to work.

Just as I start to refocus, my phone buzzes again. Expecting another email, I glance at the screen—only this time, it's not from the board.

It's Amaya.

"Hey, are you free to meet up later today? Need to go over a few things for the project."

I stare at the message for a second longer than I should, wondering why it feels like she's asking more than just a work-related question. I shake the thought away. It's nothing.

"Yeah, I can make time. What works for you?" I reply, keeping it casual.

A few moments later, her response comes through.