Tara immediately recognized the menacing tone on the other end—it was the same man who had called Selena before. No mistaking it.
"She can't come down right now," Tara replied as calmly as possible, but just hearing this man's voice—her boss's supposed "boyfriend"—set her anger flaring. She fought the urge to simply hang up or, better yet, to somehow erase him from Selena's life completely.
"Who are you?" The voice demanded after a pause, his tone both haughty and inquisitive, the kind of attitude that made Tara's skin crawl. She'd love to end the call right then, but this man clearly held some weight with Selena, and she didn't want to cause her any trouble. Taking a deep breath, she answered, "I'm a friend of Selena's."
A contemptuous chuckle echoed through the line. "Stop pretending, Selena," he sneered, as if he knew her better than she knew herself. "You don't have friends."
Tara's grip tightened on the phone, her knuckles turning white with suppressed irritation. He continued, his voice softening, almost pleading, though it dripped with manipulative sweetness. "Selena, I know I messed up, okay? Let me explain. Today's your birthday, after all. Don't be stubborn. I even canceled an important meeting for you and brought a cake. Can't you see I'm trying here? It must get lonely up there…"
Tara's lips curled into a mocking smile as she deciphered his message: Look at all I'm doing for you—don't be ungrateful.
The man was already getting on her last nerve, so she spoke with a chill that matched her mood. "Very well. I'll pass along the message to Ms. Selena. And if there's nothing else urgent, we'll end the call here. This is Selena's assistant, Tara. Thank you for calling."
Without waiting for a response, she ended the call.
Imagining his reaction to her abruptness made her laugh out loud, though she stopped herself mid-chuckle, suddenly feeling a bit silly. Shaking her head, Tara returned to the bedroom, intending to give Selena her phone back.
The bedroom door was slightly ajar, a quirk of the old wood doors that never quite closed unless you forced them to. Tara slipped in quietly, careful not to make any noise, and set the phone down on the nightstand. As she leaned over, she noticed Selena's face—tense, a slight sheen of sweat beading on her brow. Her hair clung damply to her forehead, strands plastered to her skin.
The smile on Tara's face faded entirely. She took out a tissue and carefully wiped the sweat from Selena's forehead. She even pressed her hand gently to Selena's brow to check for fever. No fever, thankfully. Just a restless sleep, maybe a bad dream. Her younger sister used to have nightmares like this, too.
This time, Selena didn't reach out for her hand, but Tara decided to stay anyway.
The man's words echoed in her mind: "Selena, you don't have friends." As much as she hated to admit it, there was truth in his statement. Selena was often aloof, seldom making the effort to truly connect with people.
Perhaps he sensed this about her and used it to his advantage, wielding her isolation as leverage to keep her close.
Tara gently tucked the blanket around Selena, smoothing out the edges. She remembered how her mother used to calm her sister's nightmares by singing softly. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she began to hum an old lullaby, her voice soothing and lilting:
"Rock and sway, as the autumn breeze passes, grandmother's bridge awaits beyond the pond."
"Laugh and play, sounds echo through the alleys, skipping along with cakes in hand."
Selena's tense expression began to relax, her breathing growing steady. Tara's own worries faded as she watched Selena finally drift into peaceful sleep.
Just as she let her shoulders relax, her phone buzzed quietly in her pocket. Tara glanced at the screen and saw her mother's name flashing. The sight brought a pang of tension back to her chest—a heavy, instinctual pressure she couldn't shake. She slipped quietly out of the room before taking the call.
"Hello, Mom. It's late. What's up?"
"Are you keeping busy with work these days?" Her mother's voice was as soft as she could manage, but even softened, it retained an edge of innate authority. Tara replied, "It's been alright. Not too bad."
There was no reason for her mother to be calling about finances, so this had to be about something else. Tara's mind raced, and she finally asked, "Is there something you need, Mom? Go ahead and say it."
Since she'd given her the go-ahead, her mother dropped the preamble. "You remember Wang's son, Evan, right?"
Tara paused, then sighed. "Yes, I remember him."
"He's coming home from Canada for New Year's," her mother continued, the weight of what she was implying already settling heavily on Tara's mind. Just hearing Evan's name and her mother's tone brought an uncomfortable chill that reached her core. "You two are of similar age, and I know him and his family well. It would be nice if you two could catch up over New Year's, see if you have any common ground."
Tara furrowed her brow, struggling to remember anything significant about Evan. Childhood connections were a stretch; she couldn't even picture his face clearly. They were strangers in every sense of the word.
"Sure, Mom. I'll come by if I don't have to work overtime." The words came out as an evasive compromise, her nails digging into her palm, leaving small crescent impressions.
"You can take time off for this. Do your best to be there. Don't disappoint me." With that, her mother hung up, leaving only the hollow beep of a finished call.
The empty sound echoed for a few seconds before Tara snapped back to herself, staring numbly at her phone. She knew her parents had always held a tight grip over her life, pulling strings whenever it suited them. Even after moving far from home, a simple tug on that invisible string was enough to draw her back, every single time.
But this time… this time she felt different. A new courage was beginning to grow, small and fragile but undeniably present.
The recent product launch had gone well, exceeding expectations. Not only had they recovered previous losses, but sales had doubled from last year's projections. During the following board meeting, both Selena and Jasmine received well-deserved praise for their roles in the successful launch.
However, as the conversation shifted to the assignment of the next project lead, the boardroom's atmosphere grew tense. The room fell into an almost oppressive silence.
The upcoming contract involved a notoriously difficult client: Wayne, an old-school business tycoon who had weathered several economic storms over the years. His experience and influence made him a formidable negotiator, and though he was well into his seventies, he was still sharp, ruthless, and unapologetically demanding. The risk of failure was high, and nobody wanted to step forward.
Sensing her chance, Jasmine stepped up, feigning admiration as she put Selena forward. "We all know that Selena is the best negotiator we have. This account might be tough, but I have every confidence that Selena can handle it. Selena, for the good of the company, don't be modest."
Everyone knew about Jasmine's animosity toward Selena. And everyone also knew that negotiating with Wayne was like stepping into a bottomless pit.
All eyes fell on Selena, some skeptical, others gleeful at the thought of her failure.
Selena simply smiled, her demeanor calm and collected. Her gaze traveled across the room, her expression unreadable behind her glasses. Finally, she pushed her glasses up and let her eyes settle on Jasmine.
"Fine. I'll take it," she said, her voice calm yet resolute.
The room buzzed with murmurs. People looked at her as if she'd just voluntarily stepped off a cliff.
"But I have one condition," Selena added, giving Jasmine a sidelong glance. The chairman, pleased to have someone finally take on the task, nodded. "As long as you're confident you can close the deal, state your condition."
Selena's tone remained even. "Wayne's extensive experience puts him on a whole different level, but I believe I can not only close this deal but negotiate equal terms with him. The only catch is… I'll need Jasmine's help."
Jasmine's smug smile vanished. "What are you trying to pull? Who's to say you won't waste company resources with empty promises?"
"Then I'll stake my career on it," Selena replied calmly. "If I fail, I'll hand in my resignation."