Updated Nov 2, 2025 • ~10 min read
The day after the kiss, Garrett avoided her completely.
Layla knew it was deliberate. She saw him in the lobby talking to guests, saw him in the conference room with department heads, saw him walking the grounds with his tablet—but every time she got close, he found an excuse to be somewhere else.
By five PM, she was frustrated and hurt in equal measure.
By eight PM, when she was supposed to help him with closing duties, she was angry.
The resort was quiet as she made her rounds, checking that conference rooms were locked, lights were off, everything secured for the night. Garrett was doing the same from the opposite end of the building, and they were supposed to meet in the middle.
Professional. Efficient. Completely avoiding what had happened between them.
Layla found him in the east wing, checking the emergency exits. He looked up when she approached, something flickering in his eyes before his expression went carefully neutral.
“All clear on the west side,” she reported, keeping her voice cool.
“Good. East wing is secure.” He made a note on his tablet. “We just need to check the ballroom and we’re done.”
They walked to the ballroom in tense silence, their footsteps echoing in the empty corridor.
Inside, the massive space was dark except for the emergency lighting, casting long shadows across the polished floor. Garrett did a quick perimeter check while Layla verified the sound system was powered down.
“Looks good,” Garrett said, heading for the door. “Let’s lock up.”
“That’s it?” The words burst out before Layla could stop them. “That’s all you’re going to say to me?”
He paused, back to her. “What else would you like me to say, Ms. Rivera?”
“Don’t.” She crossed the ballroom toward him, anger flaring hot. “Don’t do that. Don’t act like last night didn’t happen.”
“Last night was a mistake.” His voice was flat, but she saw his hands clench. “It shouldn’t have happened, and it won’t happen again.”
“A mistake,” Layla repeated, the word tasting bitter. “Is that really what you think?”
“It’s what I know.” He finally turned to face her, and his expression was a careful mask. “I crossed a line. Multiple lines. I took advantage—”
“You didn’t take advantage of anything. I wanted it. I wanted you.”
“You don’t understand—”
“Then explain it to me!” Her voice echoed in the empty ballroom. “Stop running away and actually talk to me!”
Garrett’s jaw tightened. “I’m not running. I’m being responsible. I’m your boss, Layla. What we did last night—what I did—was completely inappropriate. It can’t happen again.”
“Why? Because of work? Because of my dad?” She took another step closer. “Or because you’re scared?”
His eyes flashed. “I’m not scared.”
“Yes, you are. You’re terrified. You told me you were falling for me, you kissed me like I was everything, and now you’re pretending it meant nothing because that’s easier than admitting you actually feel something.”
“This isn’t about my feelings—”
“Then what is it about?” She was close now, close enough to see the muscle jumping in his jaw, close enough to see his carefully controlled facade cracking. “Tell me the truth. Did last night mean nothing to you?”
“That’s not the point—”
“Answer the question, Garrett.”
“Fine!” The word came out harsh, frustrated. “No, it didn’t mean nothing. It meant everything, and that’s the problem! I can’t stop thinking about it. About you. About the way you looked at me, the way you felt in my arms, the way you tasted—” He stopped himself, breathing hard. “And that’s exactly why this has to stop. Because I’m supposed to be your supervisor, your mentor, your father’s friend. I’m supposed to have control. And around you, I have none.”
The confession hung between them, raw and honest.
“I don’t want you to have control,” Layla said quietly. “I want you to be real with me.”
“This is real.” He gestured between them, something desperate in his expression. “This feeling like I’m being torn apart every time I’m near you—that’s real. Knowing I’m betraying your father’s trust—that’s real. Knowing I could ruin your career before it even starts—that’s real.”
“My career is fine. I’m doing good work—you said so yourself.”
“Now. But what happens when people find out? When they start whispering that you only got promoted, only got opportunities because you’re sleeping with the director?” His voice was rough. “I won’t do that to you. I won’t let this destroy everything you’ve worked for.”
“So you’re making this decision for both of us?” Anger flared again. “You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to decide what’s best for me.”
“Someone has to think clearly here—”
“I am thinking clearly! For the first time in my life, I know exactly what I want.” She closed the remaining distance between them, and Garrett backed up until he hit the wall. “I want you. Complications and all. And you want me too—stop pretending you don’t.”
“Layla—” His voice was a warning, but his hands came up to her waist like he couldn’t help himself. “We can’t do this. Not here. Not like this.”
“Why not?” She placed her hands on his chest, felt his heart racing under her palms. “We’re alone. No one knows. We could—”
“Stop.” But his fingers tightened on her waist, contradicting the word. “You’re not thinking about consequences.”
“Neither were you last night.”
“Last night I was weak. Today I’m trying to be smart.”
“I don’t want smart. I want honest.” She looked up at him, searching his face. “Tell me you don’t want this. Tell me you don’t want me. Look me in the eyes and say it, and I’ll walk away right now.”
Garrett’s control was visibly crumbling. His eyes were dark, pupils blown wide, and one hand came up to cup her face in that achingly gentle way he had.
“You’re impossible,” he said roughly.
“So are you.”
They stared at each other, both breathing hard, balanced on a knife’s edge.
“This is a bad idea,” Garrett whispered, but his thumb was brushing across her cheekbone, and he was leaning closer.
“Terrible idea,” Layla agreed, tilting her face up.
“We should stop.”
“We should.”
But neither of them moved away.
Garrett’s other hand slid into her hair, and Layla’s breath caught. He was going to kiss her. She could see it in his eyes, could feel it in the way his whole body was angled toward hers, could—
His phone rang, shattering the moment.
Garrett jerked back like he’d been burned, releasing her and pulling out his phone with shaking hands. He looked at the screen, and his expression went pale.
“It’s your father.”
The words were like ice water.
Layla watched as Garrett answered, his voice perfectly normal despite the fact that thirty seconds ago he’d been about to kiss her against the ballroom wall.
“Hey, man. Yeah, just finishing up closing duties… No, everything’s fine… Actually, she’s right here. We were just wrapping up.” He handed her the phone, expression unreadable. “He wants to talk to you.”
Layla took the phone with numb fingers. “Hey, Dad.”
“Sweetheart! I was just calling Garrett to see if he wanted to grab drinks this weekend, and I thought I’d check in on you. How’s work going?”
“It’s—it’s great. Really great.” She couldn’t look at Garrett, who’d moved across the ballroom, giving her space. “Learning a lot.”
“And Garrett’s treating you well? Not working you too hard?”
The irony of the question wasn’t lost on her. “He’s been very… professional.”
“Good, good. That’s my girl. Hey, I was thinking—why don’t you both come over for dinner next week? I’ll grill, we can catch up properly. I’ve barely seen you since you started that job.”
Layla’s stomach dropped. “I don’t know if Garrett has time—”
“I can make time.” Garrett’s voice carried across the ballroom, flat and resigned. “Tell him I’d be happy to come.”
After she hung up and handed back his phone, the silence was suffocating.
“Dinner,” Layla said. “With my dad. Both of us.”
“Yeah.” Garrett wouldn’t look at her. “Should be fun.”
“Garrett—”
“This is why we can’t do this.” He finally met her eyes, and the pain in them made her chest ache. “Because your father just invited me to dinner while I was seconds away from kissing you against a wall. Because I have to look him in the eye and pretend I don’t have feelings for his daughter. Because every time my phone rings, it could be him, and I’m constantly living in fear of the moment he finds out.”
“We could tell him—”
“Tell him what? That I’ve been pursuing his daughter? That I’ve been sneaking around with someone half my age? That I kissed my employee, who happens to be his kid?” Garrett laughed bitterly. “That’ll go over great.”
“I’m not a kid. And this isn’t just you pursuing me—I want this too.”
“I know you do. That’s what makes it so hard.” He moved toward the door, putting distance between them again. “But your dad just reminded me why this can’t happen. Why I need to be the responsible one here.”
“So that’s it? You’re just going to pretend last night didn’t happen? That five minutes ago didn’t happen?”
“I have to.” He paused at the door, back to her. “We both do. Come Monday, I’m going to request that you be reassigned to a different supervisor. Someone who can maintain appropriate boundaries.”
The words hit like a slap. “You’re reassigning me?”
“It’s for the best. For both of us.” His shoulders were tense, rigid. “You’ll continue your training, you’ll do brilliantly like you always do, and I’ll stay far enough away that I can’t mess it up for you.”
“And if I don’t want that?”
“It’s not your choice.” He finally turned, and his expression was carefully blank—the same professional mask he’d worn that first day in his office. “I’m still your director. This is a professional decision about resource allocation. It’s already decided.”
He left before she could respond, his footsteps echoing down the empty hallway.
Layla stood alone in the dark ballroom, hands clenched into fists, tears burning behind her eyes.
He’d almost kissed her.
Then he’d pulled away.
Again.
That night, lying in bed, Layla’s phone buzzed with a text.
I’m sorry.
She stared at it for a long moment, then typed back.
For what? Almost kissing me or walking away?
The response was immediate.
For all of it. For wanting you. For not being strong enough to stay away. For being too scared to give us a real chance.
Her throat was tight as she replied.
You’re not the only scared one.
I know. That’s what makes this harder. If you didn’t feel the same way, I could walk away and never look back. But you do. And it’s killing me.
Layla wiped at her eyes, typing through blurred vision.
So what do we do?
The typing dots appeared and disappeared several times before his final message came through.
We do the right thing. We maintain distance. We protect your career and my friendship with your father. We forget this ever happened.
Can you forget?
No.
Neither can I.
I know. God help us both, I know.
That was the last message. Layla lay awake for hours, staring at the ceiling, replaying the almost-kiss in the ballroom.
Tomorrow, they’d go back to being professional. Tomorrow, he’d reassign her to someone else. Tomorrow, they’d pretend none of this had happened.
But tonight, she let herself feel it—the wanting, the frustration, the aching knowledge that they were both too scared to take the leap.
Tomorrow they’d be smart.
But tonight, they were just heartbroken.
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