---
The city outside her penthouse was glowing, buzzing — full of life, and yet none of it touched her.
Celeste stood by her floor-to-ceiling window, untouched glass of wine in her hand, one heel kicked off, silk robe loose at the shoulders.
She hadn't moved in an hour.
Because Miki Arata had said goodnight.
Not "thank you." Not "until tomorrow." Just goodnight — and then disappeared down the corridor like some elusive breeze in the dead of summer.
And Celeste had stood there, watching, rooted like an idiot tree.
---
Dana strolled in without knocking.
"Let me guess. Still brooding over the intern?"
"She said goodnight," Celeste muttered.
"Scandalous," Dana deadpanned.
Celeste turned, leaning against the window frame like a tragic widow from a gothic novel. "It wasn't just what she said. It's how she said it. Like she meant it."
"She probably did. But you know what would help?" Dana plopped down on the velvet chaise lounge. "Stop acting like some mysterious Gothic statue and do something."
"I am doing something," Celeste insisted. "I'm being patient."
"No. You're being dramatic."
Celeste gave her an icy glance. Dana held up her hands in mock surrender.
"If I were you," Dana said casually, "I'd stop overthinking it and start using my actual superpower."
Celeste raised a brow. "My immortality?"
"No. Your money."
"…Excuse me?"
"You're the CEO. You could get yourself invited to any company party, event, conference, lunch outing, rooftop barbecue or underpaid intern's weekend drinking plan. You want to see her outside the office? Make it happen."
Celeste paused.
Dana smirked.
"Crash the intern party, drink irresponsibly for the first time in a hundred years, and seduce your little obsession in a cardigan."
Celeste blinked.
Then tilted her head thoughtfully.
"…That is so beneath me."
"And?"
"…I'm doing it."
---
Thirty minutes later, the Lorrain Holdings internal communication system received an anonymous "HR memo" addressed to Celeste herself. A very convincing AI-written form detailing the company's initiative to "encourage executive involvement in junior employee bonding activities."
Which is how, two hours later, the interns at the downtown satellite office received this message:
> MEMO: Ms. Celeste Lorrain will be attending Friday's intern social mixer to better understand the employee experience and encourage leadership accessibility.
Chaos ensued.
---
Friday came faster than expected.
The venue was a modest rooftop bar with mismatched furniture, string lights, and a playlist that tried too hard. Miki arrived late, already regretting it. She had barely stepped inside when she heard the room buzzing.
"Is that the real Celeste Lorrain?"
"She actually showed up?"
"Why is she so hot it's unfair—"
"Don't look now, she's coming over—"
Miki froze with a plastic cup in her hand.
And then Celeste was there.
Wearing a sleek black blouse tucked into high-waisted slacks, heels, and a smile that could melt marble.
"Hello again," she said smoothly.
Miki stared. "Why are you here?"
"I care about employee morale," Celeste said solemnly. "And possibly margaritas."
"You're lying."
"Only a little."
Celeste took the drink out of Miki's hand and sipped it without asking. Then made a face.
"This is horrible," she said. "I love it."
---
For the next hour, Celeste managed to mingle without giving herself away — but her eyes never left Miki. She laughed with the finance kids, posed for blurry selfies with the IT team, and even pretended to enjoy the weird pretzel bites.
Miki watched her from a distance. She didn't speak much, but something kept tugging at her.
Why was someone like her trying so hard?
And why… did Miki find it hard to look away?
---
Later, when most of the crowd had dissolved into buzzed small groups, Celeste found her again on the balcony — standing alone, arms crossed.
Miki didn't turn when she approached.
"You're ruining your mysterious boss reputation," Miki said.
Celeste leaned on the railing beside her. "Good. I want you to see me as more than that."
Miki finally looked at her.
The lights of the city glinted off her eyes.
Celeste swallowed. Her voice softened.
"I'm not trying to manipulate you, Miki. I'm just… trying."
Miki looked down at her drink.
"I know."
---