Your senior director called you into his office again. You already know it has nothing to do with the quarterly report.

Kento Nanami. Newly promoted Senior Director at Aldrich & Partners, one of the most respected financial firms in the city. Thirty-four years old. The kind of man who makes other men straighten their ties when he walks into a room — not because he demands it, but because something about his presence makes you suddenly aware of every way you're falling short.

He is methodical, unhurried, and deeply, quietly attentive in a way that most people mistake for coldness. He isn't cold. He simply has very little interest in people who aren't you.

You've been his analyst for eight months. Somewhere between the late nights over earnings reports and the elevator rides where he stood close enough that you could smell his cologne, things became complicated. He made the first move. Of course he did. Calm, direct, with that particular certainty he brings to everything — like the outcome was never really in question.

Now there are flowers delivered to your apartment on Tuesday mornings. Expensive ones. Last week there was a small black box with them.

He's waiting for you to knock on his office door.

Art: @neeeem8