Chapter 5 The red dress effect

Lily hadn't planned on turning heads that morning.

She'd simply opened her closet, stared at the small section labeled Work Clothes, and thought, Screw it.

Yesterday, Jaxon Reid had taken her to a lake, fed her cookies from their childhood, and made her heart flutter like it was seventeen again. And she? She was tired of hiding.

So she wore the red dress.

Fitted, knee-length, just enough structure to say professional and just enough curve to say you'll remember me. She paired it with nude heels and gold hoops, then let her curls fall loose over her shoulders.

When she walked into Reid Enterprises, the front desk guy dropped his pen.

"Morning, Miss Hart," he mumbled, eyes wide.

"Morning, Josh," she said, breezing past.

If she was going to fall for a billionaire again, she might as well look the part.

By the time she stepped off the thirty-fifth-floor elevator, her phone buzzed with a text from Clarissa:

Clarissa:

Okay, red dress. I see you. Did you come here to submit your resignation or steal the CEO's soul?

Lily bit back a smile.

"Good morning, Lily," said a familiar deep voice behind her.

She turned-and there he was.

Jaxon Reid, in a crisp grey suit that probably cost more than her car (if she had one), holding a black coffee cup with Let's Acquire Things written across it.

His gaze trailed down to her dress.

And stayed there.

Then slowly returned to her face, unreadable.

"Morning," she replied, casually.

He said nothing for a moment. Then:

"Remind me to extend the dress code."

"Too much?" she teased.

"Not at all. Just... distracting."

He walked past her, but not before murmuring, "In a good way."

Inside the office, Clarissa leaned over Lily's desk like a gossip columnist with a secret.

"You broke him."

"I did not."

"You broke. Him. He walked in five minutes ago and tried to stir his coffee with the lid on."

Lily snorted.

"Oh, and Mira's already thrown her fourth stapler."

"Fourth?"

"She's on a warpath. Apparently, you being competent and hot is an HR violation."

"I'm just wearing a dress."

Clarissa patted her arm. "It's not the dress. It's the vibe."

Sure enough, Mira arrived half an hour later, hurricane heels and all. She paused when she saw Lily.

Her eyes dropped to the red dress.

Her nose twitched.

Then she turned to Clarissa. "Meeting in the boardroom. Now. Get the materials."

"Of course," Clarissa said cheerfully. "Lily, can you bring the Everlane file?"

Mira blinked. "Why would she-?"

"She's shadowing me while I'm out next week. You know, absorbing the culture."

Mira muttered something under her breath about absorption and stalked off.

Lily followed with the file, amused despite herself.

The meeting dragged on longer than expected.

Mira dominated the conversation, barely letting anyone else speak. Jaxon sat at the head of the table, quiet and unreadable, drumming his pen against a leather pad.

Lily tried to focus on taking notes, but every few minutes, she caught his gaze flicking toward her.

Once, she crossed her legs and saw him visibly lose his place in a sentence.

Victory.

When the meeting finally ended, Mira lingered, clearly waiting for a private moment with Jaxon. But he stood and looked at Lily.

"Can I speak with you in my office?"

Mira blinked. "Oh. I was going to-"

"Later, Mira," he said without looking at her.

If looks could kill, Lily would've combusted on the spot.

Inside the office, Jaxon shut the door and turned to face her.

"You know what you're doing."

"I really don't," she said innocently.

He gave her a look. "The dress. The walk. That smile in the meeting."

She sat on the edge of the conference table. "You said I was distracting. Thought I'd live up to it."

His mouth twitched. "You're dangerous."

"I've heard that before."

He stepped closer.

"I'm serious, Lily. I had three back-to-back calls this morning, and I couldn't think straight. You walked past my glass wall and I forgot what country we were negotiating with."

She laughed softly. "Sorry."

"No, you're not."

She shrugged. "Maybe a little."

He reached into his drawer and pulled out a small box. Her heart skipped.

Another box?

"Relax," he said. "It's not jewelry. Yet."

She opened it.

Inside was a tiny black notebook with Lily's Ridiculously Brilliant Ideas embossed in gold.

She blinked. "You had this made?"

"You've been helping Clarissa, organizing deals, catching details no one else sees. I thought it was time you had your own space."

She looked up, eyes soft. "That's really... thoughtful."

He leaned a little closer. "Told you. Gifting is my love language."

She tilted her head. "And what do you call this stage of love?"

He smirked. "Foreplay."

Lily flushed.

He stepped back. "You're off the clock in an hour. Let me take you to dinner."

She hesitated. "Just dinner?"

"For now."

"Okay," she said. "But I'm picking dessert."

Dinner was in a small Italian restaurant tucked between two skyscrapers-a cozy, candle-lit place with garlic in the air and piano music floating from the back.

Lily's heels clicked on the tile floor as Jaxon pulled out her chair.

"You sure you're not trying to spoil me into submission?" she teased.

"Is it working?"

She smiled. "Maybe."

They talked for hours. About favorite childhood snacks (he still secretly liked marshmallow cereal), the worst first dates (she once had a guy ask for a refund), and Mason's attempts at becoming a TikTok chef (currently on hold after a blender explosion).

She was laughing so hard at one story she nearly knocked over her wine glass.

"God," she said. "I haven't laughed like this in... years."

"I like making you laugh."

She met his gaze.

It lingered.

"I used to picture this," he said quietly. "Not the suits or the office. Just... you. Somewhere across from me. Smiling."

Her chest ached in the best way.

"I pictured it too," she admitted. "But I thought you'd forgotten me."

"I couldn't. Even when I didn't know why."

After dinner, he walked her to her apartment. The city was warm, humming quietly around them.

At her doorstep, she turned to face him.

"Thank you for today."

"Thank you," he said. "For making a red dress look like a weapon."

She laughed, but then he stepped closer, just a breath away.

His fingers grazed her cheek, slow. "May I kiss you?"

Her voice was soft. "You don't have to ask."

And then he did.

It wasn't rushed. Or demanding. It was sweet and slow, like the memory of a song they used to know.

When they finally pulled apart, he whispered, "I'm going to fall for you again."

She smiled. "Maybe I'll let you."