The coincidences were getting too coincidental.
It was understandable considering the corporation's big rise over the past months. An ever-growing empire with his former secretary's name was slowly dominating the industry; it couldn't have not used any means to be popular all of a sudden, though the opposite could also be also true. Even the amount of coincidences was too... baffling in a way.
Sharmaine happens to look similar to Shawn, which is the name of her mother's corporation whose surname is a Mendoza. Whether it's her real surname or not, the fact that his missing document was also about Shawn was already too suspicious in his own narrative.
He stopped his fluid motions to think. It made him question the involvement or motives their company had to steal such an underwhelming document—unless they had something to do with Shawn's sudden disappearance; either one of his trusty subordinates were lying or someone else was in the mix. He gazed through the room—he could definitely use a secretary, and since someone offered to be one, it's a great chance to keep an eye out for the imaginary enemy.
The fact that she wanted to work under him was already a sign that something fishy is going on.
The room began to feel vast and cold as he pondered about his ways to contact the woman. She does not have any information on the internet nor does he have her contact number; the only way he could think of is to visit Shawn Corporation himself. Approaching enemies was not a first for Denzel anyway. When he finally decided on his decision, the preparations began.
He called the office, and luckily, the President was free at his preferred time. Suddenly, the vintage-looking office felt colorful and lively. It was like his first day of class or his first football match again. There was so much adrenaline running through him that it made him finish almost half of his paperwork. He sighed in relief, and, for the very first time in months, he smiled warmly; it was not forced by a certain someone.
"I must be very excited," he said to himself.
The day pretty much ended with Denzel not feeling fatigued as the night fast forward to the day he looked forward to. His driver stopped in the middle of a gigantic and modern building in the middle of the city; its exterior reflected the rays from the sun; tiny green bushes accented the otherwise dull palette.
He wore his favorite suit today—an exact replica of the suit made for him six months ago when Shawn pretended to be a woman. For some reason, it just seemed special, and for the suit to be tailored to him once again by the same designer held sentimental value. He entered and stood tall among the visitors and staff as he was escorted by a male employee to the President's office.
The overall feel of the office was liked by Denzel himself. It was modern but very nature-like and fresh; imagine a colorless drawing book being colored by vibrant and complementing colors. Eventually, they arrived in front of a reflective glass door.
When he entered, upon permission, he was greeted by a luxurious yet simple room. On the middle couch sat the President—the same woman he talked to during his event—and a very familiar-faced woman, Sharmaine Mendoza.