Page 27 of The Rules
No suspicion. Just Joshua being Joshua.
She smirks. “Someone’s gotta keep this firm from crumbling under Sinclair’s tyrannical rule."
Joshua lets out a low chuckle as he steps deeper into the office.
“And here I thought I was the only one too stubborn to go home at a reasonable hour," he says, voice light but not unkind.His smile flickers in the dim glow of the desk lamp. “Now I find you still camped out here, stealing my title."
She arches an eyebrow, unimpressed. She leans back in her chair, the leather creaking softly. “I wasn’t aware late-night overworking was a competition."
Joshua grins. “It’s not. But if it were, I’d like to think I’d be at least mildly hard to beat."
Kath smirks, dry. “You’re not. I’m winning by miles. Try harder."
He presses a hand to his chest in mock outrage. “Brutal. Next time I bring coffee and bribes."
She hums, finally letting a hint of amusement show.
“Now that might earn you a few points."
Shakes her head, but she doesn’t push him away. Should be annoyed—but there’s something about Joshua’s warmth, the way his teasing never feels forced, that disarms her.
His presence is a comforting contrast to the cold, clinical atmosphere of the office.
Kath shifts, subtly angling her body to block the screen—but too late. Joshua’s gaze flickers to the monitor, his smirk faltering just slightly. “Serious stuff?" he asks, his voice dropping a notch. Less teasing. More curious.
“Just work," she says—too quickly. Her fingers tighten around the edge of her desk, betraying her tension.
Joshua watches her for a beat—just long enough to make her stomach tighten. Katherine feels exposed under that gaze, vulnerable in a way she hadn’t expected, wondering if he’s seen more than she meant to show.
The silence stretches, thick with unasked questions. His eyes stay on hers, steady and searching, probing for the hairline fractures in her composure.
Then, suddenly—he leans back. A casual stretch, muscles shifting beneath his shirt as the tension melts into something looser. Different. Almost teasing.
“Alright, alright. No work talk," he concedes, the grin sliding back into place. “But if you don’t leave this office soon, I’m personally dragging you out." His tone is light, but there’s an undercurrent of concern in his words.
He shifts his weight, reaching into his coat pocket with a casual motion and pulling out two pieces of candy wrapped in bright foil.
“Barista gave me these when I grabbed coffee earlier,” he says, holding them up like a peace offering. “Apparently it’s some kind of ‘thank you for not screaming in the line’ reward system.”
He glances at her with a grin. “So, Winters—raspberry or strawberry?”
She blinks, momentarily disarmed by the absurd normalcy of the question.
“Raspberry,” she says after a beat.
He tosses her the candy, and she catches it, barely.
The foil crinkles in her palm. It’s a ridiculous little gesture, meaningless and soft, and for some reason it hits harder than anything else tonight.
She exhales, a soft sigh escaping her lips as she finally closes her laptop. The click of the lid echoes in the quiet office, signaling the end of another grueling day. Joshua tilts his head toward the door, a playful glint in his eyes.
"Shall we?" he teases, voice dipping into a low rumble.
"The city's still standing—for now. But who knows how long it'll survive without your supervision?"
Katherine chuckles, a sound that rises low from her chest and slips through slightly parted lips. She shakes her head, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. Despite the jest, there’s a warmth in Joshua’s words that seeps in, loosening something tight in her shoulders. She stands without a word and moves to follow him.
Outside, the air is crisp—cool against her skin, charged with the low thrum of the city. The weight of deadlines, of Benjamin’s razor-edged critiques, seems to fall away with eachstep. Every stride is a quiet rebellion, a breath of something freer.
