I Vid. I Write. I Fangirl.

Present Day

Lucy Gray woke up on a fine Friday morning, not a care in the world, though her schedule was incredibly packed with President Ravinstill’s continued campaign, to the sound of sparrows chirping outside her high-rise apartment window.

It was amazing, she always thought, that those birds could get so high up when she’d always seen them much lower to the ground when she was walking D.C.’s streets. If she had time on her lunch break today, she’d take a stroll through one of the parks in the city and take in the sweet nature that the city had to offer and that she missed dearly from her previous home in Virginia.

It’d been a year since she left there on the wing of a scandal between her now ex-boyfriend and Mayor Lipp’s daughter. Lucy Gray had been working for the mayor as his personal assistant for his entire term – and for the mayor before him for his term as well. She felt it her duty to do her best to make a better change for her city, and maybe the nation eventually. How proud she’d be, to be an advocate for the people and make real change that she and her family could be proud of.

Despite her excellent work ethic, however, Mayor Lipp blamed her for the scandal involving his daughter and fired her immediately. A termination, however unrightfully doled out, did not bode well for continuing her rise in politics, so when her uncle several times removed, Casca Highbottom, invited her up to Washington D.C. for a visit and said he could pull some strings to get her in at the campaign office of current President Ravinstill, she almost jumped at it on the spot.

However, before could say yes, doubt started to creep in. Would her past travel north to haunt her? Would Mayfair Lipp, Mayor Lipp’s daughter, seek her out to destroy her more than she already had by coercing her father to fire her? She decided to take things slow, give it some time, and if she was still craving a taste in politics in close to a year later, she’d take up dear Uncle Casca on his offer.

What she didn’t expect, as a little low measly coffee girl, was to fall for the regular customer strolling in every day at 7:30 asking for two of the same order, which, as luck would have it, was her uncle’s favorite coffee drink. What were the odds?

At any rate, since Uncle Casca came in on his off days for the same drink, she got very good at making it, and became the only employee in the whole establishment who could make it to perfection, and as a result, became assigned to always make it, most especially for her uncle and this pretty, blond man that made her heart race, named Coriolanus.

It took her a long time to decide to quit the job when Uncle Casca reached out to her periodically, asking if she’d reconsidered a career in politics, because she’d become content in her coffee job, took joy in it, in fact, and it was the only way to see Coriolanus on a regular basis.

She’d tried to flirt with him on numerous occasions, and only gotten a thin smile in response, which she didn’t know what to do with. Once she’d given him her number, but he hadn’t seen it before accidentally spilling the drink on himself. She quickly made him another on the house, and, given the line of people at the register, had forgotten to add her number to it. A bit humiliated and embarrassed from that experience, she neglected to do it again, and just hoped somewhere inside he felt the same as her and would ask her out instead.

Well, that never happened, and the more time that passed, the more she felt as though she was waiting for something that maybe was not meant to be. So, she took her uncle up on his offer, and within a week had been briefed on everything going on in the campaign and felt she was rearing and ready to go.

What she hadn’t expected was to end up in a position that Coriolanus had been gunning for, in a business that he’d worked his butt off in nearly as much as she’d worked hers in Virginia. She almost took back her acceptance of the role when she saw the devastation of his face in Uncle Casca’s office – that was until he started spouting how unfit she was for the role as merely a coffee girl and nothing more.

That hurt more than she cared to admit, and so, she stood her ground, and for two months made it her mission to prove to Coriolanus that she was more than capable to be a campaign manager for President Ravinstill’s re-election campaign.

She stayed late nights, weekends, sometimes coming in at the crack of dawn, depending on what campaign events were in line for that day or week. And to make sure Coriolanus saw how good she was at her job, she made him stay too. Hoping to impress him. Hoping to stir the spark that she swore had been between them at the coffee shop. And maybe, just maybe, after President Ravinstill was re-elected, the two of them could rise together, instead of one of them trumping the other.

Because she did see how hard of a worker he was, his passion for making a change as well, and for getting to the top. For some reason he and her uncle irritated the hell out of each other, but she was in charge now, and if she wanted Coriolanus to rise with her after the election, then damn it, that’s how it would be. She adored her uncle, but she also knew when to dismiss his silly opinions, and that’s all his disdain for Coriolanus was. A silly opinion.

Yawning a bit, Lucy Gray stretched her arms, pulled back her covers, and wiggled her fingers in a small wave at the birds chirping at her window. Then, she got up, grabbed her robe, and made a beeline for the bathroom to shower.

Today would be a wonderful day.

…

Coriolanus walked into Lucy Gray’s office, two coffees in hand and presented one to her. She looked up from her computer and smiled brightly at him.

“Thank you, Coriolanus.”

She took a sip and flashed her doe eyes back at his blue ones.

“Nice and sweet, just the way I like it.”

Just like you, he thought, and then promptly erased the thought.

“I’ll be at my desk,” he said, then crossed the room, shutting the glass door behind him and made a beeline for his station just outside her office.

He ran his hand over his face and opened up his e-mails, searching for the most top priority thing to do. He needed something to distract him from just how good Lucy Gray looked just now.

With a floral floaty skirt and form fitting top, her hair pulled back in a bright-colored wrap, the long locks trailing down over her shoulders, and simple pink make-up to brighten up her face, she was a vision.

He noticed everything about her. Everything.

Like how her high heels brought her from the top of his stomach to almost his shoulder. How one corner of her lips twitched when she had a new, fresh idea. How she’d lick her lips and gnaw on her bottom one when she was nervous about something she was about to totally ace. How her fingers would tap in a staccato on her desk or phone when she was getting impatient. And then how her toes would tap on the floor when she had a song stuck in her head.

It was infuriating how well he knew her after only two months.

Every little thing she did annoyed him to his core, because despite all her little ticks, she was still insanely good at her job. One evening she’d told him about it when they were working late. He’d pretended not to care, but inside he understood finally why she’d been chosen for the job.

It didn’t mean he wasn’t still mad as hell that he’d lost his chance when he’d been led to believe he was getting it. It just made being mad at her on a daily basis and eager to exact his revenge more difficult.

Because he still remembered those months at the coffee shop, the days when he wanted to believe she was flirting with him but kept telling himself that would be too good to be true. Not with someone as dedicated and beautiful and charming as she was. He was even more aware of it now that he worked with her.

It left him feeling very confused and irritated, and, not to put too fine a damper on it, but sexually frustrated as well.

If what he felt for her as a coffee girl had started to blossom something inside him, he now daily had to squash other feelings he felt for her too. Stronger feelings. Feelings that contradicted everything he wanted in life, his passion and draw and eagerness to rise in politics. There were some moments when he was feeling particularly weak and thought he might give it all up to be her assistant for the rest of his days if only her lips would part and she’d lean in for a kiss.

The constant struggle made work very hard and his reaction to everything she said either bitter or neutral. What made it worse was all his co-workers finding her to be an absolute delight and not sympathizing for his struggle at all.

He was alone completely, and it was hell.

The phone rang suddenly, interrupting his moody thoughts. He reached for it and took on a pleasant, yet clipped and professional tone.

“Ms. Baird’s office.”

A scowl immediately formed on his face as he heard the familiar, grouchy voice.

“Yes, I’ll tell her. She’ll be up right away, Mr. Highbottom.”

Click.

Running a hand over his coiffed hair, he got up from his seat, walked calmly over to the glass doors, knocking before he stepped inside, and trying to maintain his sanity as he saw Lucy Gray standing facing the large floor-to-ceiling windows looking out at the city.

“Ms. Baird,” he addressed her, fighting the tightening in his pants.

“Hmm?” She turned around, looking as much of a vision as the last time he’d seen her five minutes ago.

“Your uncle wants you upstairs. Something pressing, I believe.”

She looked briefly troubled, which intrigued him immensely.

“Thank you, Coriolanus. I’ll head up there right now. Come get me in five minutes if I haven’t returned. We have a lot of work to do today, actually the weekend too. You can stay for another weekend, right?”

He tensed, recalling how Tigris had mentioned to him offhand that Grandma’am was turning 90, and they were all going to celebrate on Sunday afternoon – and expected him to make an appearance.

His jaw clenched.

“Actually, I was hoping that – ”

“You know what, you can tell me later. I should really get up there and see what he wants.”

“I could walk with you,” he chirped, suddenly very eager to see if he could twist his way out of this one. It was the only thing his family had asked of him for the last two months after all. Surely Lucy Gray would understand?

Lucy Gray stifled her sigh but nodded.

“Alright, let’s go.”

He held the door open for her. She walked surprisingly quickly, but with his long legs he kept up with her easily. Once inside the elevator, she reached for the button at the same time as him, and he had to fight the heat traveling up his neck when they awkwardly pulled back at the same time as well.

“S-sorry,” he heard himself stammered and wondered what the hell was the matter with him.

They’d been in close quarters before, and while his body acted against him, his mouth always seemed to function completely fine.

“No need to apologize, Coriolanus,” she said, in her most professional tone. “Honest mistake.”

She strutted out when the doors opened and marched on ahead of him, then paused at the solid wood door leading to Casca Highbottom’s lavish office.

“Five minutes,” she told him. “Then come get me.”

He nodded, then blurted out, “As you wish.”

After she was inside, and he heard the cooing of her greeting her uncle fade to silence, he realized he hadn’t told her about Grandma’am’s birthday party on the way up.

He’d been too distracted by her walk, her ticks, her scent.

Just her.

Fuck.