Matthew
The next morning, I step into the office with a fresh cup of coffee in hand, determined to keep my head down and avoid unnecessary distractions. Specifically, one particular distraction.
"Good morning, Matthew!" Sarah's overly cheerful voice greets before I've even reached my desk.
Of course.
She's perched by the reception desk, holding a stack of brightly colored folders. Her beaming smile is as radiant—and irritating—as ever.
"Miss Wilson," I reply curtly, keeping my tone neutral.
Her grin widens. "I was just on my way to see you."
I sigh inwardly and keep walking, hoping she'll get the hint and leave alone.
She does not.
Instead, she falls into step beside .
"Is there sothing I can do for you?" I ask after I reach the office.
"You can start by calling Sarah and not Miss Wilson. You know I won't leave you alone until you do," she says.
I sigh. "Sarah, it is," I say dryly.
Sarah beams as if she's just won so great victory. "See? That wasn't so hard, was it?" she quips, her tone teasing.
I sit down at my desk and open my laptop, hoping to appear busy enough to dissuade further conversation. Of course, Sarah doesn't take the hint. She strolls over to my desk and places the stack of folders down.
"What are those?" I ask.
"Just a little sothing to make your day brighter," she replies, pulling out a chair and sitting across from without invitation. "These are so ideas I had for streamlining the quarterly budget reports. I thought you might appreciate so fresh input."
I arch an eyebrow. "You're not part of the finance team."
"No, but I will take over this company one day. Daddy is happy that I am showing interest in things around here," she says with a smirk.
I sigh, flipping through one of the folders out of sheer curiosity. Sure enough, it's ticulously organized, with color-coded sections and neatly highlighted notes. Annoyingly impressive.
"I'll look at these later," I say, closing the folder and setting it aside. "If that's all, I have work to do."
Sarah leans forward, resting her chin on her hand. "You're always so serious, Matthew. Don't you ever loosen up? Maybe smile once in a while?"
"I smile when I have a reason to," I reply tersely.
"Am I that unbearable?" she asks, looking sad.
I look up then. "I am sorry. I am not trying to make you feel bad, Sarah," I say, feeling a bit guilty.
Sarah's expression softens, her teasing deanor slipping away for a mont. "Well, that's the first ti you've called by my na without sounding annoyed," she says with a small, genuine smile.
I lean back in my chair, feeling awkward. "It's not personal," I explain, trying to smooth things over. "I'm just... focused on work. That's all."
"Focused, huh?" she says, tilting her head slightly. "Daddy did tell you are a hard worker."
"Thank you. I want to be successful in this company," I reply.
She laughs softly, brushing a strand of her blonde hair behind her ear. "Sure thing. I won't bother you anymore. At least, not today," she winks before striding out of my office.
I let out a quiet sigh of relief.
I open one of the folders she brought and flip through the neatly organized pages.
I hate to admit it, but her ideas aren't half bad. So of the suggestions are surprisingly insightful, with detailed notes that show she'd put actual thought into them.
Shaking my head, I close the folder and set it aside. "She is competent," I mutter under my breath. There's no doubt that she will be an excellent CEO of this company one day.
Maybe I will find another job before that happens, I think to myself.
The rest of the morning is blissfully uneventful. I managed to get through a stack of emails and make progress on the upcoming project proposal. By lunchti, I had almost forgotten about Sarah's earlier visit.
Almost.
"Matthew?" Her voice cuts through the quiet again, making flinch slightly. I look up to find her standing in the doorway, holding two takeout bags.
"I thought you weren't going to bother today," I say, raising an eyebrow.
She smirks. "Technically, I said not anymore this morning. It's lunch now. Big difference."
Before I can protest, she walks in and sets one of the bags on my desk.
"I figured you'd be too busy to eat, so I brought you sothing. You're welco," she says.
I glance at the bag warily. "What is it?"
"Chicken salad sandwich. Don't worry, no poison," she teases, rolling her eyes. "I'm trying to get on your good side, rember?"
I can't help the slight chuckle that escapes . "You're relentless."
She grins, taking that as a victory. "Finally! A real smile."
I shake my head, more amused than I want to admit. "I am sorry for being rude. But you tend to co on a bit too strong."
Sarah's grin fades slightly, and she perches on the edge of my desk, setting her own lunch aside. "I'm sorry if I've been too pushy," she says, her tone sincere. "I just... I really admire your work ethic, and I want to learn from you."
I lean back in my chair, studying her for a mont. Her bright green eyes hold an earnest warmth that catches off guard. "I appreciate that, Sarah. But you have to understand that I'm not here to make friends. My focus is on my work."
She nods, her expression thoughtful. "I get that. But don't you think we could work well together? I an, you saw my ideas for the budget reports. I'm not just so airhead daddy's girl."
I have to admit, she has a point. Her suggestions were impressively insightful. "Fair enough," I concede. "But let's keep things professional, alright?"
Sarah's smile returns, and she hops off my desk. "Of course. Professional. Got it," she says with a playful salute. "Enjoy your lunch, Matthew."
As she saunters out of my office, I can't help but watch her go, my gaze lingering on the sway of her hips. Shaking my head, I turn my attention to the lunch she brought, trying to ignore the unfamiliar warmth spreading through my chest.
I can't be looking at another woman like this. I have a girlfriend, for god's sake!
A beautiful, smart, and amazing girlfriend.
I take a deep breath and rub the back of my neck, trying to push the thoughts out of my mind. Sarah's just being friendly, that's all. No need to read too much into it.
As I eat, my phone buzzes on the desk. I glance at the screen and smile when I see a ssage from Amanda.
"Hope your day is going well. Dinner tonight? I miss you. ❤️"
A wave of guilt washes over , sharp and imdiate. This is the woman I care about, the one who deserves all my attention. Not soone like Sarah, who—let's face it—is probably just toying with out of boredom.
I quickly reply: "Can't wait. I miss you too. Love you."
~-~
After what felt like hours, I finally finished working.
I rush out of the door to get to the train station as I know Amanda is at ho waiting for .
The station is as busy as ever. I'm weaving through the crowd, my mind already on the train ride ho and dinner with Amanda, when raised voices cut through the noise.
"Hey! I said back off!"
The voice is sharp, panicked—and unmistakable.
Sarah.
I whip around, my heart kicking into overdrive. She's standing by the station entrance, clutching her bag to her chest like a shield. Two n are advancing on her, their expressions predatory.
Before I can think, I'm moving. My pulse pounds in my ears as I push through the crowd, closing the distance between us.
"Leave alone!" Sarah shouts, her voice shaking now. One of the n smirks, stepping closer.
"Hey!" My voice is louder than I intended, a command that cuts through the commotion.
All three of them turn toward . Sarah's wide, tear-filled eyes et mine, a flicker of relief breaking through her fear.
"Get lost," one of the n snaps, his tone dripping with irritation.
I stop a few feet away, squaring my shoulders. "Walk away. Now."
The second man narrows his eyes at , clearly sizing up. He's stocky, his shoulders tense under his jacket, but I don't back down.
"This ain't your problem," the first one growls, stepping toward .
I hold my ground. "It is now." My voice is low, steady, and leaves no room for argunt.
There's a tense pause, the air between us taut as a wire. Then the second man grumbles, "Not worth it," and yanks the first man back by the arm.
"Next ti, mind your business," the first guy mutters, glaring at before the two of them slink off into the crowd.
I let out a slow breath, the tension leaving my shoulders as they disappear from view. Turning to Sarah, I see her still clutching her bag, her hands trembling slightly.
"You okay?" I ask, keeping my tone softer now.
She nods quickly, though her face is pale. "I...yes. Thank you. I didn't know what to do. They just...I think they wanted to rob ." She says, her breath shaky.
I frown. "What are you doing taking the train? Don't you have a car?"
She bites her lip, hesitating for a mont before answering. "I—yeah, it's at the shop, being fixed."
"You should take a cab next ti," I say firmly. "I'll call you one right now."
I pull out my phone and tap in a quick ssage, arranging for a cab to et her at the station entrance. She watches , her posture still tense, though her eyes are no longer filled with fear.
I stand beside her as we wait for the cab to arrive, not sure what to say. The silence stretches between us, heavy and uncomfortable. Part of feels like I've crossed a line by intervening like I did, but the other part of can't ignore the way she looks—vulnerable and terrified.
The cab pulls up, and I step aside to let her climb in. She hesitates for a mont before turning back to face .
"Would you mind coming with ? I still feel shaken up. I don't want to be alone," she says.
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