The first time Zander Hale met his new assistant, he assumed the man wouldn't last a week. Xavier looked too soft, too easily flustered. He fumbled with his pen, stammered when introduced, and - worst of all - he wasn't afraid to meet Zander's eyes. Most people avoided his gaze; they either feared him or idolized him. Xavier did neither.

Zander hated it. Or so he told himself. At first, Xavier was a disaster. Wrong coffee with too much sugar that left a bitter taste in Zander's mouth. Misfiled papers that crinkled under Zander's irritated fingers. A double-booked meeting that nearly cost them a client and filled the office with tense silence.

Zander nearly dismissed him on the spot, but something in Xavier's panicked sincerity made him pause - the flush of embarrassment creeping up his neck, the quick, desperate breaths, the way he bit his lower lip until it whitened. The man was... different. He didn't make excuses. He just bowed his head, apologized, and tried again the next day. And again. And again. Until the mistakes grew fewer, and the rhythm between them settled into something Zander didn't quite expect.