The Cat's Eye View

Mia's orange tabby, Cheddar, always managed to photobomb her video calls at the worst moments. Usually, when she was reviewing confidential files for the aerospace contract battle against Damian's firm.

They'd been playing this cat-and-mouse game for six months—corporate espionage so petty it would've been funny if millions weren't at stake. Damian was brilliant, ruthless, and annoyingly handsome. Their rivalry had become the stuff of office legend, complete with anonymous tips to competitors and carefully leaked rumors.

Then came the night of the company baseball outing. Thunderstorms rolled in early, turning the field into mud. Mia found herself sharing the lone dry spot in the dugout with Damian, both drenched and equally miserable.

"Your cat," he said, when lightning cracked close enough to make them flinch. "Cheddar. He's in every background of your calls."

"Professional hazard of working from home."

"I looked for you because of that cat," Damian admitted, surprising her. "Six months ago. I saw Cheddar sleeping on your desk during a shareholder briefing and thought, anyone who lets a cat sleep through corporate bullshit is someone I should know."

Lightning flashed again, illuminating his face in stark relief. He wasn't mocking her. He was confessing something.

"You infiltrated my life because of my cat?"

"I infiltrated your company because you're brilliant," he said, voice dropping. "The cat was just the excuse to reach out. But then we became rivals, and... things got complicated."

Mia laughed, startled by the absurdity of it all. Months of corporate warfare, and it had started with a photobombing tabby.

"What if," she said, as another bolt of lightning turned the rain silver, "we called a truce?"

Damian's hand found hers in the darkness. "I've been waiting for you to propose it."

Somewhere in the distance, thunder rumbled like approval. Cheddar would be disappointed to learn he'd missed the moment his human finally stopped being a spy in her own life.