The woman at the edge of the room wasn’t just another wide-eyed admirer.

Zara knew that as soon as she drew closer. There was something calculated about the way she held herself — poised, composed, but not quite effortless. Like someone who had practiced appearing casual in a room full of power players. Zara had seen that before. She had done it before. But this was different.

“Hi,” Zara said smoothly, offering her signature smile — the one that disarmed people without giving too much away. “I saw you from across the room. Have we met?”

The woman’s eyes flickered with something — surprise, satisfaction. It was quick, gone before Zara could place it.

“Oh wow,” she said, shaking her head with a soft chuckle. “No, we haven’t — but I feel like we should have by now.”

She extended her hand. Nia Brooks. Admirer of your work.

Zara took her hand. Warm, steady grip.

“Nice to meet you, Nia. What do you do?”

“Branding,” Nia said, tucking a sleek strand of hair behind her ear. “I actually just started at Grace and Digital.”

Zara’s eyes flicked toward Ethan, who was deep in conversation across the room.

“Well, you’re in a good place,” she said. “Ethan’s team is top tier.”

Nia smiled, but there was something unreadable in her gaze.

“Yeah, I hope so. I’ve been following you for a while — your campaigns, your LinkedIn posts, even your interviews on Brand and Beyond. You make this whole world seem effortless.”

Zara’s lips curved. “It’s not effortless. If it looks that way, I’m doing my job.”

Nia laughed — a rich, warm sound. But just a little too familiar.

Zara studied her more closely now. She was stunning, but in a carefully curated way. Sharp cheekbones, skin with a velvety glow, lipstick in a shade Zara had worn before. Her black midi dress — fitted but not too tight — looked expensive, but subtle. A mirror of her own style.

Zara had a moment of déjà vu.

“Nia Brooks,” she repeated. The name wasn’t quite familiar. “I think I’ve seen your work before.”

“You might have. I’ve been in marketing for a while — just not in the big leagues like you.” Nia held her gaze. “I’d love to pick your brain sometime. You’re exactly where I hope to be.”

Zara had heard that before. Young Black professionals often gravitated toward her, looking for mentorship in a world where women like them had to fight for every inch.

But this was different.

This wasn’t just ambition.

It was something else.

Zara didn’t know it yet — but she had just let Nia get a foothold.

~ ~ ~