Chapter 3 3

Leighton stared at her reflection in the mirrored elevator doors of the Harrington & Cross offices, adjusting the strap of her leather tote bag on her shoulder. She was headed to the design studio for her first joint session with Ezra and the community engagement team. And no matter how many times she told herself this was *just another meeting*, her heart hadn't gotten the memo.

When the elevator opened, she stepped into the buzz of the 26th floor- phones ringing, people pacing with purpose, the distant sound of a printer humming. Her heels clicked against the tile as she made her way to the glass-walled conference room labeled Studio 2A.

Inside, Ezra was already there.

Of course he was. Sitting at the far end of the table, his sleeves rolled again- damn those forearms- and a notebook open, pen tapping lightly as he skimmed through the feedback from their first community outreach call held just yesterday.

He looked up when she entered and gave her a grin. "Morning, Moore."

She gave him a curt nod and took a seat beside him-not too close, but not distant enough to be obvious. "Did you finish reviewing the West Ridge transcripts?"

He held up the binder. "They're worried about being priced out. About their culture being turned into a marketing tool for urban aesthetic."

Leighton sighed. "We anticipated that. But they're right."

"I've got an idea," he said, turning his notebook toward her. "What if we proposed a community land trust for at least twenty percent of the development? Let the neighborhood own part of itself."

She blinked, surprised. "That's... actually brilliant."

Ezra smirked. "Careful. You almost sound impressed."

"Don't get used to it."

He chuckled, and for a second, the tension between them softened. They started bouncing ideas back and forth- pop-up art spaces, shared gardens, mentorship programs between young architects and local high schoolers. Ezra brought empathy and imagination. Leighton brought structure and strategy. It was-undeniably-a powerful combination.

An hour in, the door opened and Meredith walked in, holding a coffee and her signature cool stare.

"Update me," she said, taking a seat.

Leighton straightened. "We've integrated feedback from the West Ridge board and have three new initiatives to propose: a community land trust, an education pipeline, and a rotating arts residency funded by the foundation arm."

Meredith raised a brow. "That's fast."

Ezra chimed in, smooth as ever. "We work well under pressure."

Leighton shot him a side glance, lips twitching.

Meredith nodded slowly, eyeing them both. "Just remember-this project is being watched from the top down. There's no room for ego, or... personal distractions."

Her gaze lingered on Leighton a second too long before she stood and exited, leaving a trail of perfume and pressure in her wake.

Leighton let out a slow breath.

Ezra leaned closer, lowering his voice. "Do you think she knows?"

"She *knows* everything. She probably knew about our airport diner moment before I did."

He chuckled. "Think she bugged the coffee shop too?"

"I wouldn't put it past her."

They shared a quiet laugh, the kind that made Leighton feel lighter than she had in months.

---

Later that afternoon, the two of them visited the site of the proposed development. The old West Ridge shipping yard was a sprawling maze of concrete and rust, flanked by graffiti-covered walls and weedy lots. But it had a pulse. A strange, stubborn kind of beauty.

Leighton snapped photos on her phone, noting the natural light, the skyline views, the slope of the terrain. Ezra stood beside her, surveying the space.

"You know," he said, "most people would see this and think, 'waste of space.'"

She glanced at him. "And you?"

"I see history. Stories that haven't been told yet."

Leighton found herself staring at him longer than necessary. There was something about the way he looked at the world-like he saw possibility in broken things.

She cleared her throat. "We'll need soil samples. And permits for that northern fence line."

"Already emailed the city rep this morning," he said with a grin. "I'm trying to keep up, remember?"

She rolled her eyes. "You're annoyingly good at this."

"I've been called worse."

A breeze swept across the yard, lifting her hair. She turned her face into it, eyes closing for just a second. Ezra watched her, the sun casting golden lines across her cheekbones.

"You're not what I expected," he said softly.

She opened her eyes. "What did you expect?"

He shrugged. "Someone colder. Sharper. Untouchable. But you care. Too much, maybe."

Leighton hesitated. "Caring doesn't make you weak."

"I didn't say it did. But it makes the stakes higher."

They stood there, silent in the hush of the afternoon, the city humming just beyond the edge of the yard.

Then Ezra's phone buzzed.

He glanced at it, expression darkening slightly. "I've gotta take this. I'll meet you back at the car?"

She nodded, watching him walk off toward the edge of the lot, his voice low as he answered.

Alone, she let herself breathe again.

She didn't know what this was. What *they* were. But the line she was so determined to draw between personal and professional was starting to blur. And something told her- this was only the beginning.

---

Certainly! Let's continue **Chapter Three** of *The Space Between Us*, where the connection between Leighton and Ezra deepens further.

---

The sun was beginning to dip behind the skyline when Ezra returned to the car, his phone still in his hand. He climbed into the passenger seat beside Leighton, the tension from the earlier phone call still hanging in the air.

"Everything okay?" Leighton asked, glancing over at him as she started the engine.

"Yeah," Ezra replied, his tone a little off. "Just some family stuff. I'll handle it."

Leighton didn't press. She knew that some things, especially in the business world, needed to be handled privately. She just hoped it wasn't something that would affect their project.

As they drove in silence for a few moments, the streets flashing by, Leighton couldn't shake the feeling that their dynamic was shifting. What had started as a simple professional partnership was becoming something else-something more complicated. And though she tried to keep her focus on the work, there was no denying the pull she felt toward him.

"So, what's next for us?" Leighton asked, breaking the silence. "How do you want to present the community initiatives at the next meeting?"

Ezra exhaled, his gaze still fixed on the cityscape outside the window. "We'll need to go in strong. I'm thinking a town hall style pitch-direct, to the point. Engage the community leaders before the bureaucrats. Give them a reason to care before we get buried in policy."

Leighton nodded. "I agree. We should focus on transparency and trust. The community needs to see that this isn't just another corporate project."

"Exactly." Ezra turned his head, catching her gaze. His eyes were intense, and for a brief moment, it felt like everything around them faded into the background. "I trust you with this, Leighton."

Trust- The one thing she didn't give easily. She'd been burned by that before.

"Let's make it work, then," she said, voice firm as she pulled into the underground parking lot of the office building.

The drive up to their floor was quick, and soon they were back in the conference room, pouring over final details for their next steps. As they mapped out the structure of the presentation, Leighton couldn't help but notice the way Ezra's attention remained on her, the way his eyes lingered just a little too long when she made a point, the subtle tension that seemed to grow every time their hands brushed when they reached for the same paper or the same pen.

And when their fingers touched in the middle of the table, something sharp and electric surged through her-more than just a passing spark.

Ezra noticed too. He froze, his fingers still on the edge of the notebook. For a second, neither of them moved.

"You okay?" Leighton asked, her voice barely above a whisper, her breath catching in her throat.

He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Yeah. Just... been a long day. Let's finish this, and then we can call it a night."

But Leighton could sense the change in the air, and as they continued working into the evening, her thoughts kept drifting back to that moment. She tried to focus, tried to keep her mind on the work, but every glance at him, every quiet laugh, only deepened the unspoken connection that seemed to grow between them.

---

That night, after they wrapped up their plans for the presentation, Ezra offered to walk her to her car. The usual bustle of the city was dimming as night settled in, the lights from the nearby buildings casting long shadows on the sidewalk.

They walked side by side in silence, the distance between them comfortable but charged, as if the air itself was thick with unsaid words.

When they reached her car, Leighton turned to him, her hand on the door handle. "I'll see you tomorrow morning for the strategy session."

Ezra stopped in front of her, his posture slightly tense. "Leighton..." His voice trailed off as if searching for something to say. His eyes met hers, and for a fleeting moment, it felt like the world narrowed down to just the two of them.

"You're not going to ask me if I'm okay?" he said, a quiet challenge in his voice.

Leighton frowned, the sharpness of his tone catching her off guard. "What do you mean?"

"I mean..." He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "This whole thing-we're pushing forward with a big project, working together every day, and yet I feel like we're both pretending everything's normal."

Leighton stiffened, uncertainty creeping up her spine. "I'm just trying to do my job, Ezra."

"I get that. But that doesn't mean we're not both aware that something's different between us."

Her pulse quickened. She had told herself she wouldn't let this happen-wouldn't let him get under her skin. But here they were, standing face-to-face, and it was impossible to ignore the magnetic pull that seemed to draw them closer, even when neither of them wanted it.

"I didn't come here to get *involved*," Leighton said, her voice quieter now. "I'm here to do my job. That's it."

Ezra looked at her with an unreadable expression. "You don't think it's already too late for that?"

She took a step back, reaching for her car door. "This is business, Ezra. Nothing else."

He held her gaze for a long moment before nodding. "Right. Just business."

Leighton opened the door and slid inside, her heart pounding as she started the engine. She glanced in the rearview mirror as she pulled out of the parking lot, seeing Ezra standing on the sidewalk, watching her drive away.

---

The next morning, the tension from the night before still lingered in the air as Leighton arrived at the office early for the strategy session. She needed to focus. She needed to *not* think about Ezra, not think about the conversation they'd had, or the way her chest tightened whenever he was near.

But when she walked into the meeting room, he was already there, his presence like a force she couldn't escape.

He looked up as she entered, his eyes softening for just a second before his usual professional mask slipped back into place.

"Morning," he said, his voice smooth but guarded.

Leighton nodded, trying to ignore the flicker of tension between them. "Let's get started. We need to finalize the proposal for the town hall meeting."

They both dove into work, and for the next hour, their focus shifted back to the project. Yet, every so often, their eyes would meet, and it was like there was an unspoken conversation- one that neither of them wanted to have, but neither of them could avoid.

And as they continued to collaborate, Leighton realized something she couldn't deny: no matter how much she tried to distance herself, Ezra Carter was becoming impossible to ignore.

---