“Could You Dance With Me? My Ex Is Watching.”
The chandeliers of the Grand Meridian Hotel glittered like constellations suspended above Manhattan’s elite. Champagne flowed, laughter echoed, and the air hummed with polite ambition — the kind that hid daggers behind smiles.
Olivia Mitchell smoothed the satin of her emerald cocktail dress and tried to steady her hands. She had made it. After years of clawing her way up the marketing world, tonight she was attending her first event as Head of Marketing at Archer Industries, one of New York’s most powerful corporations.
She should have felt triumphant.
Instead, her heart froze.
Across the ballroom, Ryan Cooper — her ex — was laughing easily with a cluster of executives. His smile was still disarmingly warm, his posture confident, his eyes cold. The man who had once whispered that she was “too emotional” to lead now stood ten feet from the woman who had proven him wrong.
Of course he’s here, she thought bitterly. Ryan always shows up where he can be seen.
“Just breathe,” she whispered to herself, forcing down a sip of champagne.
A familiar voice broke her trance.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” said Mia Barnes, her best friend and coworker, arriving with two fresh glasses.
“Worse,” Olivia muttered. “Ryan’s here.”
Mia’s eyes widened. “Toxic Ryan? The one who said you’d never make it without him?”
Olivia nodded grimly. “The same. And now he’s talking to Walter Jenkins from the board. I bet he’s trying to charm his way into Archer.”
“Well,” Mia said, raising her glass, “you got the job — without him. So, karma’s right on schedule.”
Before Olivia could respond, the band shifted to an upbeat tune. Couples moved to the dance floor in swirls of silk and tuxedos — and that’s when she saw Ryan excusing himself, striding toward her with that familiar predator’s grin.
“Oh no,” Olivia breathed. Panic flared in her chest. “He’s coming here.”
Without thinking, she turned to the tall stranger standing a few feet away — broad shoulders, dark hair, quiet confidence. She leaned close, heart pounding.
“Could you dance with me?” she whispered. “My ex is watching.”
The man turned, startled — and met her eyes. They were the clearest blue she’d ever seen, calm but sharp, like the ocean before a storm.
“I’d be honored,” he said simply.
He set down his drink, offered his hand, and led her to the floor.
The crowd blurred around them as the music swept in. His touch was firm but gentle; his rhythm effortless. Whoever he was, he wasn’t the type to stumble — on the floor or in life.
“Thank you,” Olivia said softly. “I’m Olivia Mitchell.”
He smiled. “James.”
His voice was smooth, rich, unhurried. He moved with a confidence that didn’t need to prove itself.
“So,” he asked, amusement flickering in his eyes, “what makes your ex so toxic?”
Olivia hesitated. “Probably not great small talk.”
“Maybe,” he said, “but I’m curious about any man who drove you to ask a stranger to dance.”
She laughed, tension easing. “He’s charming — in a way that makes you forget you’re being diminished. By the time I realized it, I barely recognized myself.”
James’s expression darkened. “Men like that feed off control. You’re here tonight. That’s proof you took it back.”
The words struck something deep. She hadn’t realized how much she’d needed to hear that.
For the first time that evening, she smiled for real.
As they danced, the rest of the room faded — until it was just her, his steady rhythm, and the subtle electricity of two lives brushing paths for the first time.
By the time the music slowed, she didn’t want it to end.
“So what brings you here, James?” she asked as they drifted toward the bar.
“I have… a vested interest in the hospital this gala supports,” he said vaguely. “And you?”
“I’m with Archer Industries,” she said proudly. “Head of Marketing. It’s new — I haven’t even met the CEO yet. Apparently, he’s too important to meet new hires.”
James’s lips twitched. “Maybe he’s just shy.”
She laughed. “A shy billionaire CEO? Doubtful.”
“Perhaps you’ll meet him sooner than you think,” he murmured.