Chapter Text
Kate Sharma walked briskly into the lobby of the Saylor Apartment block in Canary Wharf, her heels clicking against the polished marble floor. The scent of roasted coffee immediately hit her, and she couldn't help but roll her eyes. Of course, there was a Starbucks right inside the building. She could already picture Anthony Bridgerton with his daily grande flat white, gripping it like some corporate life force. The flimsy, non-recyclable cups which were perpetually littering the whole office — and often discarded on his desk, or more irritatingly her desk, like trophies. She shook her head at the thought. For a man who supposedly understood the importance of appearances, he sure didn’t seem to mind his contribution to killing the planet, one coffee cup at a time.
But, of course, no one dared say anything to him. Anthony Bridgerton, the youngest partner in the history of Danbury Corporation, was untouchable. It was a title he wore like armour, his every move reinforced by the weight of his family name and, she imagined, by his vast wealth. His privilege, a cocktail of inherited connections and capital, seemed to grease every rung on the corporate ladder, while Kate had clawed her way to working for Danbury with nothing but sheer grit. Late nights, endless cups of coffee and an aim for perfection the whole way through university. The last few years had been hard work, and now she was going to prove herself by win every case she could, and ensuring everyone who needed legal aid got it. That was what she wanted after all. Justice for everyone. No matter their race or gender.
But what made Anthony Bridgerton even more maddening was that he actually was good at his job. For all the perks his last name and wealth afforded him, he had a sharp mind, quick wit, and an unshakable confidence that unnerved both clients and opponents alike. In the six months Kate had been with Danbury, she had fought to make a name for herself. She knew it would take time, knew the obstacles, and yet, watching Anthony breeze through life with doors swung open at his approach was enough to make her blood boil.
Today, however, she had an unusual task. As his partner on the high-profile Lawton case she had handed her the responsibility of delivering his belongings: his laptop, a stack of case files, and a bottle of orange juice. When Agatha Danbury had called her into her office that morning it had been the last thing she expected to be asked.
Kate had stuffed it all into a carrier bag, both irritated and intrigued. According to Agatha, Anthony was working from home, out sick. Sick? Kate couldn’t recall a single instance when he’d so much as blinked at a cold. She wondered just how bad it had to be for him to stay home, what had finally managed to knock Anthony Bridgerton off his feet?
So she had agreed to it and Agatha had given her the address. A fancy new apartment block which suited him perfectly. Kate looked again at the Starbucks as she headed for the lift, maybe she’d treat herself after delivering his belongings. She’d probably need it!
Kate pressed the button for the top floor, feeling the smooth hum of the elevator as it started its ascent. Just as the doors were about to glide shut, a petite Asian woman darted toward the elevator, sticking her hand in to keep them open. She stepped inside with an apologetic grin, a bit out of breath, as if she’d rushed just in time to catch the ride.
“Good timing,” she murmured, half to herself, glancing up with a cheerful look. There was a spark of warmth in her eyes, an unassuming friendliness that seemed to make the enclosed elevator space feel lighter. Kate returned the woman’s smile with a polite nod.
“Which floor?” Kate offered, gesturing at the panel, but the woman simply looked up and grinned.
“Same as you,” she replied, her voice full of easy confidence.
Kate couldn’t help but feel a flicker of curiosity about this woman who had the kind of presence that made you feel like she was holding onto a delightful little secret. Her eyes sparkled mischievously as she leaned back, as if she was already one step ahead of whatever came next. There was something about her that made Kate feel suddenly…observed.
“You’re going to see Anthony?” the woman asked, the question almost casual, yet it caught Kate completely off guard. She blinked, the name and question tugging her out of her thoughts.
“How did you…?” Kate started, eyebrows raising, her confusion evident as she tried to piece together how this stranger could possibly know that.
“Only two apartments on the top floor,” the woman replied lightly, like this fact was as well-known as the weather. Kate nodded slowly, processing that this woman must be Anthony’s neighbor.
“I have his laptop,” Kate explained, feeling the need to justify her unexpected visit.
The woman tilted her head thoughtfully, lips pursed as if recalling some memory. “He’s sick,” she said in a tone that was almost concerned, “and I’m pretty sure he’s not supposed to be working.”
Kate’s brows lifted, feeling her intrigue deepen as she wondered how this woman seemed to know so much already. But before she could ask, the woman preempted her thoughts, her casual voice filling in the missing pieces.
“So’s Benedict. From the sound of it, all eight of them are down with some sort of bug,” she added, shaking her head with an affectionate sigh. The name clicked for Kate—Benedict, Anthony’s brother. That sounded right; she thought she remembered Agatha mentioning him once or twice.
“I’m Sophie, by the way. Sophie Baek,” the woman said, shifting her shopping bags to one hand so she could extend the other in greeting. Her handshake was firm, warm, somehow making the enclosed elevator feel less confined.
“Kate Sharma,” Kate replied, reaching out to shake her hand, but as she did, the elevator suddenly lurched, slowing down with a soft groan.
Her hand reached for the railing, her heart quickening at the sudden interruption. Sophie groaned, her cheerful face suddenly concerned.
“Oh, great timing.”