Finally. Casey thought as she put the finishing touches on her desk. My very own desk. She made it. She was 28 and finally, she had landed her dream job, writing for her favorite dance magazine, Leap. Here she could combine her two passions, the written word and dance. After realizing that pursuing a legitimate career in dance wasn't entirely realistic, Casey decided this was the next best thing. And if she was perfectly honest with herself, it was better.

Leap's office was located in Manhattan, a bit of a drive from where she had grown up, but to be honest that was another aspect of it's appeal. The less she saw of her family and so-called friends, the better. Casey still talked to her mom and Lizzie from time to time, but other than that she was completely on her own. No expectations to be a certain way or obligations to tie her down. She now possessed that independence she had always craved for.

"MacDonald!" Her boss called. Casey looked up. "First assignment's in. Some girl at NYU is a freaking swan and I need you to get an up close and personal interview." Elijah Mond didn't even bother to look at her as he dropped the files on Casey's desk. His brown hair stuck up at odd angles and his thick framed glasses made it hard to see exactly what color eyes he had.

"I'm on it." Casey smiled. Her first legitimate assignment. Finally. She picked up the files about Laurel Ritch. The only photo they had of her was a head shot, but if her face was any indication of her dancing, then she truly was a swan. Her neck was long and slender and her bright green eyes popped against her white blonde hair.

"Oh, and you're going to be working with some hot, young hunk of a photographer we just got in from Canada. Hope you play well with others." He winked, "Venturi! Let's go! We don't have all day."

Casey's breath caught. No. Fucking. Way.

Derek rounded the corner, looking more smug than ever. He'd transformed from jock to artist quite nicely. His jeans were more fitted and he had traded hockey jerseys for plaid button downs, but still wore his old leather jacket. Confidence radiated off of him, he walked with ease, a bit of Derek swagger with every step.

"Venturi, this is..."

"Casey?!" Derek had stopped dead in his tracks, his arrogance gone replaced with complete and utter shock.

Casey stood up and smoothed her skirt. She made a quick decision to be as professional as possible. "Hello, Derek."

"Okay, look Eli this is NOT going to work. I cannot work with Space Case." Derek protested.

"Oh, and I'm SO looking forward to spending my days working with a jerk like you."

"Quiet please, Klutzilla. The grown ups are talking."

"Don't act all condescending Mr. I Failed the First Grade."

So much for professionalism.

"How the hell do you know each other?" Eli looked genuinely caught off guard.

Casey looked at Derek. What was he to her? Step-brother? Friend? Arch Enemy? Love of her life? The man she hated with such a passion that she hadn't spoken to him in 8 years?

"Let's just say our family's are really close." Derek answered.

Casey laughed, crossing her arms, "That's one way to describe it."

"And how would you put it, Princess?" Derek was now leaning on her desk, looking straight at her for the first time.

"You have no right to be here." Her voice was low, threatening almost.

"To be where? At Leap? Of course I have a right. I'm a sports photographer, it's my job."

"Since when do you consider dance a real sport? And since when do you have the drive to do anything other than women?!"

"Nice, way to be professional, Space Case. At least I didn't leave everything the moment one little thing in my life went wrong!"

"Hey!" Eli barked. "I have no idea what the hell is going on with this whole dynamic," He pointed between the two of them, "but I do know that I like your writing and your photos. So, you will work together and you will give me the best article this magazine has ever seen. Get to work."