I joined the weekly meeting and hoped that I could pair up with Leene, so far she is the greatest superior that I’ve ever met. She’s kind enough to let me know the work flow and how to handle each project that the company has. When my name was called, I was crossing my fingers too hard hoping to pair up with Leene, but faith was not on my side.
“Mia, you will pair up with Tristan on the Eclipse Festival Project. I need you both to plan the event thoroughly and report it back to me in two weeks. The budgeting will be informed by Leene after this. Any questions from the both of you?” Paula, who was my team leader, asked me. I shook my head and she dismissed the meeting.
I got up to ask her if it’s possible for her to pair me up with Leene instead, when I was about to ask, she got a call from Turner who happens to be our boss.
It felt like a nightmare.
I was standing in the middle of a conference room, trying to hold back the visceral disgust I felt at being paired up with Tristan. The same man who had made my high school years a living hell. The same man who had reduced me to nothing more than a punchline for his cruel jokes. Now, I had to work with him—collaborate with him—on a major project. I couldn’t believe it. What did I do to deserve this?
I plopped back down to my seat, thinking of ways to change the pairings. As much as I want to plot my revenge, but being in one team with him is something that was out of my plan. Tristan sat beside me with a smirk plastered on his face.
"Looks like we’re stuck with each other," he said, that smug smile playing on his lips as if he’d just won some sort of victory. He looked entirely too pleased to be in this situation. And, of course, he was. Why wouldn’t he be? It was exactly what he wanted. A chance to throw me off my game, to remind me who was in control, to see me squirm.
I could already feel my blood boiling. The mere thought of spending every single day working with him, breathing the same air, was enough to make me want to quit.
“Isn’t there someone else you want to pair with? There must be a girl that you want to fuck so much that you want to stick your ass in.” I bit back, keeping my tone sharp.
“Oh no,” he replied, his voice dripping with false sweetness. “You’re perfect. This is perfect. I think we’ll make a great team.” I couldn’t help the scowl that formed on my face. Great team? He really thought I was going to just sit here and play nice, pretend like everything that happened in the past didn’t matter? That he wasn’t the same arrogant jerk who had torn me down all those years ago?
I hated the idea of this. Working so closely with him, day in and day out. The thought made my stomach turn. I didn’t want to get close to him. I didn’t want to get any closer than necessary. Every fiber of my being screamed at me to get away, to distance myself, but I couldn’t. Not when I had a plan. Not when I had a mission: to watch him fall, to drag him down into the pits of hell.
But the truth was, no matter how much I hated being in this position, I wasn’t going to back down. I was going to show him. I was going to win.
***
The first meeting of collaborating was a mess. Every idea I pitched, Tristan shot down with that condescending tone of his, as if he knew better. I had to fight to get a word in edgewise. Every time I suggested something, he’d counter it with some alternative that made no sense at all, just to assert his dominance. And every time, I felt my patience wearing thin.
“We’re gonna need to push the visuals harder if we want to impress the clients,” I said, keeping my tone neutral. The sooner we figured this out, the sooner I could get away from him.
“Harder?” Tristan’s voice was a low drawl, and I could already tell he wasn’t going to make this easy. “You think slapping a few filters on this will make it ‘pop,’ Mia?”
I clenched my jaw. He was just itching for a fight. Fine, if that’s what he wanted.
“No,” I shot back, flipping through the slides. “But I’m sure you’ve got a better idea, don’t you? Or are you just going to keep talking down to me because you think you know more than everyone else?”
He leaned back in his chair, smirking like he had already won the battle. “I know I do,” he said, folding his arms across his chest. “I’m just waiting for you to stop pretending you have a clue.”
I felt the familiar stir of anger rise in my chest. But I refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing it. “Funny how you always think you know everything. You’ve been doing this longer, sure. But the world doesn’t revolve around you, Tristan,” I retorted, my eyes narrowing. “Maybe you should try listening for once.”
“Listening?” He scoffed. “Is that what you think you’re doing? You’re just throwing out ideas and hoping something sticks. What you need to do is stop playing catch-up and actually think for once. You might have made a good first impression, but this isn’t high school anymore.”
My blood boiled at the mention of high school. All those years of his taunts, his sneers, his insults. “I’m sorry, did I ask for your opinion?” I snapped.
But somehow, in the midst of all this bickering, the ideas started to take shape. It was infuriating how well we worked together when we were forced to compromise. The solutions we found weren’t perfect, but they were effective. Every idea felt like a war, every pitch a battle. But despite the insults, the petty arguments, and the back-and-forth, something was happening between us. We were pushing each other sometimes to the edge, sometimes past it, but we were getting results.
I hated it. I hated that we were actually making progress, that Tristan, of all people, was a part of that. And I hated the way my body responded to the tension between us. The way his eyes lingered just a second too long when he shot me down. The way he seemed to relish in every little jab I threw his way, as if the insults only fueled him.
We fought. We bickered over the smallest things, from font choices to the angle of an image on a slide, as if our lives depended on it. But with every little argument, there was something building beneath the surface. An energy I couldn’t ignore, no matter how hard I tried. Every time he came at me with a sarcastic comment, every time I fired back, the chemistry between us was undeniable.
It all came to this afternoon, after I scored a major win during a pitch. It had been a long, exhausting session where Tristan and I fought tooth and nail for every word, every detail, and when I finally managed to convince the clients of our approach, I couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride.
I was so busy savoring the moment that I didn’t notice Tristan approaching until he was right beside me. He stepped in close, close enough that I could feel the heat from his body, and I froze. My breath hitched as he gave me a look that was somehow both approving and... unsettling.
“Well, well,” he said, his voice low, “I didn’t think you had it in you.”
I looked up at him, confused, but then he added, the words dripping with that all-too-familiar edge, “Impressive... for a girl like you.”
I fought to keep my cool. My entire body went stiff at the words—those old, familiar slights that had once shattered me. I wanted to snap at him, to tell him that I wasn’t some project for him to fix. But I didn’t. I couldn’t afford to lose it. Not now. Not when I was so close to winning.
Instead, I gave him a look that I hoped conveyed the disgust I was feeling, but then I forced a smile. “Thanks,” I said coolly, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “But I’m not that impressed by you either, Tristan.”
He raised an eyebrow, a slow, knowing grin spreading across his face. It was like he enjoyed seeing me squirm, but he was also intrigued by me. He wanted to break me, but he was also testing the waters, trying to see if I’d bite.
“I can see this is just getting started,” he said, his tone darker now. “Keep it up, and I’ll show you just how far you can go.”
I couldn’t tell if he was offering me a challenge or playing some game I wasn’t ready for. Was he testing me, seeing if I’d back down? Was he trying to push me to the edge, to make me break? The lines between business and personal were blurring fast, and I was starting to question whether I could keep my cool—or if I was falling right into his trap.
But that was the thing: I wasn’t going to be swayed by him. No matter how many compliments he threw my way, no matter how much the tension between us made my heart race, I had a mission. I had a plan. I wasn’t here to get distracted by his games or his charm. I wasn’t going to let myself get swept up in the same old mess.
I had come this far. And now, I was going to make sure that Tristan got exactly what he deserved.