Annabeth had thrown herself into her work after the breakup. For months, she hadn't been able to say his name. Even thinking it required at least a pint of ice cream and two boxes of tissues.

Two hours post-relationship, after wandering around the park for a time wondering if breaking it off was a mistake, she headed back to their shared apartment, hoping that he had had the decency to stay away.

He had.

One day post-relationship, and she had moved all her stuff into her car, packed away neatly in brown cardboard boxes to be taken to a friend's apartment.

One week post-relationship, she had received a letter, plain as day, addressed with his messy scrawl. He had tried calling and texting her, it explained, but she had changed her number. Her father had given him the address.

He wanted her back. He was sorry. He was willing to change. Whatever she wanted, it was hers. Diamond ring? Check. Wedding? Call the planner. Commitment? Baby, I'm all yours.

She bought a red zippo lighter just for the occasion. Leaning out the third-story window as she did the deed, the bricks scraped her forearms while she watched the ashes scatter over Manhattan.

The next day, she exchanged her stained sweats for a form-fitting business suit, complete with a string of pearls around her neck. She had walked into the office, head held high, and had stayed until long after the other staff members had left. They had undergone a merger, receiving a new name in the process, and she had to work twice as hard now to prove her worth to the company.

Besides, honestly, who had time to date when designing a new property? Mrs. Mendelson, that little old realtor from the Upper West Side, had reeled her in a big one, and there would be plans to write up, sketches to draw, and construction to supervise. The only curves she needed were on her CAD program. The only touch from a male came when her fingers brushed against those of the barista on one of her many late night coffee runs.

Her cubicle was crowded with papers and pencils, varieties of light bulbs and tiles that she would have to decide between. When her phone rang one Tuesday morning six months post-relationship, she could hardly find it under a pile of empty Starbucks cups.

"Hello?" She answered, breathlessly tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear.

"Ms. Chase? Bob Newman here." Her company's CEO answered in his gruff, blasé tone.

"Mr. Newman! Hi!" She quickly perked up in a way only authority could impose upon her. "Is there something you need? How's Clarice?"

"Fine, good, whatever." He answered dismissively. "I need you in my office in five."

With that, he hung up the phone, the dial tone ringing mockingly in Annabeth's ear.

"Crap!" She muttered, bouncing up from her desk and smoothing her skirt. She glanced down at her outfit.

The white blouse was a little wrinkled, and there was a coffee stain towards the bottom, but if she stood with her hands just so—there, that should cover it.

Finger-combing her matted curls as she walked briskly down the hall, Annabeth's mind raced with possibilities.

Was she being fired? Promoted? Scolded?

With two minutes to spare, she leaned towards the closed door, gently pressing an ear against the heavy oak. She could hear a faint murmuring, but nothing more.

She leaned in closer, her face flush against the cool wood, straining to listen and make sense of the noise. Suddenly, the door flew open, taking her by surprise, and she fell forward, stumbling into the office rather ungracefully.

Two strong arms caught her mid-fall, one grasping her left arm and the other snaking around her back to steady her. Whoever it was, his arms felt like a soft, expensively made suit jacket. He smelled vaguely spicy. It was a smell she could grow accustomed to.

She caught her footing, rubbing her head sheepishly, and smoothed her outfit once more.

"I'm so sorry, I was leaning against the door, and—" She stopped mid sentence, looking up at her savior. She was shocked to find shining black hair, a stubble-free chin, and piercing, green eyes.

"Percy?!" She gasped, taking a step back, her eyes widening.

"Oh, good, you know him already," Mr. Newman, a stout, balding, fifty-something man barked from behind his massive desk, rising from his seat. The wall behind him was made entirely of windows, and the skyline of New York glinted in the mid-afternoon sun below.

"I…well, sort of, you see," She fumbled for words, her eyes flicking about the room. Tears began to prickle her eyes. She hadn't seen him since that night in the restaurant.

He had looked scruffy back then. He was a website designer, after all. He had lived in hoodies and jeans, always with shaggy hair that covered his ears and stubble that itched her chin when they kissed.

He had always—

"Good," Newman said tersely, making his way towards them. "You'll be working very closely these next few months."

"Excuse me?" She squeaked, fear constricting her vocal chords.

"I, uh," Percy explained sheepishly, giving her a half-smile. "I've been hired as a web manager. We'll be designing the website for your new building together."

"Yippee," Annabeth replied with false enthusiasm, wishing she didn't feel so sick to her stomach. If she puked inside the CEO's office, she would never live it down. She'd be asked to leave. Fired. The laughing stock of the real estate development field. She'd—

"Well, I'll let you two begin working. It's going to take some time, I understand, to get everything up and running in working order!" Newman chimed happily, moving back towards his desk and sinking into his black leather ergonomic chair.

"Awesome," She muttered under her breath, pushing past Percy and storming back down the hallway towards her cubicle with him hot at her heels.

"So I was thinking we could do a—" He began casually, pushing aside a pile of papers to perch on the corner of her desk.

"Don't touch those," she snapped, sinking down in her chair.

"—Layout with some 3D sketches of the building, get some relevant facts down first to—"

"Look," she sighed through her nose, "You've obviously got an idea of what you want the website to look like, so you can work on that somewhere else. Meanwhile, just email me with any requests for pictures and stuff, and stay out of my way."

"You seem upset," he smirked, his eyebrows crinkling.

"I am upset!" She exclaimed. "You just couldn't leave me alone! You couldn't take 'no' for an answer! I didn't respond to you for a reason! Get over me already!"

"Annabeth," he responded delicately. "I am over you. I've moved on. I've even got a girlfriend, I swear."

Annabeth gulped back the hurt and shock at his response. How could he have moved on so quickly when she was still in pain? Obviously he was just making it up. Obviously he was here to win her back. It wasn't going to work, though, was it?

"Then why are you here?" She demanded, her eyebrows furrowing.

"I decided to get my act together. I couldn't laze around the house wearing sweats forever," he shrugged. "Besides, the pay is good and Newman is a cool guy, once you get on his good side."

"I find that hard to believe," Annabeth snorted.

"Yeah, well," Percy rose, turning towards the exit of her cubicle. "Just to clarify once more, I'm not here to try to win you back or anything," he said, leaving.

And for once, she believed him.