"New day, more work."
That was what Sharmaine thought as she typed the last few words for her printed report to be given to Denzel after his meeting with the board members. The office was quiet as usual; she could only hear and the clock ticking; the cold breeze coming from the air conditioner hit Sharmaine's short brown hair.
The office door opened. "How's the report doing?" Denzel entered without hesitation—he held a blue folder on one hand and a paper bag with something inside on the other.
"It's finished."
"Great." He paced through the office and sat heavily on his seat; he put the paper bag on top of the table whilst Sharmaine glanced over him. He wore a frustrated face as he flipped the papers fastened in the folder.
"Is everything alright?" Sharmaine stood up went closer to his desk.
"Everything is fine. Prepare coffee." He had a hint of seriousness as usual, so Sharmaine nodded and went out to grab coffee from the coffee dispenser from the thirteenth floor. Ten minutes later, Sharmaine got back with two cups of hot coffee.
Denzel gave Sharmaine keen eyes. "What took you so long?"
"I had to fix my clothing"
"Clothing?"
"Yes... er... it got splashed with coffee."
Denzel did not reply, but he reached his hand out meaning: "Give me the coffee." Sharmaine gave the coffee to him and returned to her desk, noticing a pile of papers, probably important documents, as she sat.
"What are these papers for?" She scanned through a few pages and saw pictures with information of various girls. "Who are these girls?"
Denzel stood up and sighed. He stared at his table, with eyes full concentration. "They were the people involved with the bankruptcy of my mother's business." He had a cold tone. Sharmaine questioned his words—it just doesn't make sense to her.
"They sabotaged one of the projects. They all wanted my family to be miserable because of..." He sat down with an impact. He did not finish his sentence.
"I want you to investigate those people," he finally said. Sharmaine stood quite nervously—her? Why her?
Denzel did not say anything else apart from those papers, so she sat again to analyze the fact sheets.
"Do you wear under layers?" The loud thumping feeling Sharmaine felt was there once again. By the looks of it, he might've felt her bandages last time.
"I am..." she sounded not sure. With no other reaction seen from him, Sharmaine continued with her assigned task. The office was quiet yet again—filled with the sounds of keyboards and clock ticks.
"Remember that night?" he asked, still reading the contents of the papers.
"Which one?"
"That night when I hugged you."
"Ahh, yeah,"— Sharmaine swallowed—"Why do you ask?"
Denzel looked at Sharmaine. "I felt something underneath your t-shirt." Sharmaine swallowed again. Her heartbeat was so fast that her breathing can't keep up. She was yet again put in a situation where it was inevitable to lie.
"Those were rough belly bands..."
"Belly bands? Aren't those used for pregnant women?"
"I use it, and I am certainly not pregnant."
Denzel cringed. He had never heard of men using belly bands before. Suspicious as it sounded, he disregarded that weird fact from her and continued with his work.
"I have to leave, please do your work also." He left the office quickly but with charm. On the other hand, Sharmaine sighed in relief. She almost got found out.
"I hope he didn't find out," she mumbled. Frankly, she could just die out of the embarrassment she created for herself.