It had been an hour and a half since the meeting with the finance department began to discuss the budget approval for her proposed ad campaign. But somehow, Emma Dee found herself distracted, daydreaming about the man scrutinizing her proposal, hunting for loopholes to cut the budget in half. That man was Patrick, a manager in the Finance Department.
Emma couldn't help but stare at him, lost in her thoughts. Patrick, with his long lashes, slim build, and almond-shaped eyes, bore a striking resemblance to a Korean actor. If not for the ring on his finger screaming Married—Taken—Back Off, he would have undoubtedly topped her list. The ring, however, was a glaring reminder of boundaries she couldn't cross—boundaries she shouldn't even be thinking of crossing. Yet, a part of her couldn't help but wonder: What if there's a crack in that marriage where I could slip in?It wasn't like she could just walk up to him and say, Hey, let's make a baby—no strings attached. All you have to do is what you do best. That thought made her almost chuckle, but before she could spiral deeper into her fantasy, she felt a nudge against her foot under the table.
"Snap out of it," Marissa, her supervisor, whispered sharply. "Say something to defend our needed budget," she emphasized.
Marissa had been Emma's supervisor since she joined the company six years ago. Now, as a Junior Assistant Manager, Emma owed much of her growth to Marissa's guidance and support, though her own dedication and hard work had also played a significant role in climbing the corporate ladder.
But now wasn't the time for reminiscing. Patrick's sharp eyes were back on her, waiting for a response. She took a deep breath, trying to focus.
They reached an agreement to lower the budget while ensuring it met the requirements for their marketing campaign—a win-win solution that balanced costs and promoted sales effectively.
"You shouldn't be drooling over him, you know he's married and all," Marissa remarked accusatorily.
"I wasn't!" Emma defended herself.
"You better not. Not only is he married, but he's married to a Caraway. You know, that Caraway family—the filthy rich one," Marissa sneered.
"And yet, there you were, nodding and smiling like a lovesick fool while he was bargaining our budget down like a haggler in the marketplace. Honestly, I wouldn't have approved your campaign if I didn't think it would lead to good sales. But for that, we need a proper budget."
"I know, I know," Emma said with a sheepish grin. "But come on, Marissa, he's just so dreamy." She giggled. "Besides, we got the budget we needed, didn't we? And, who knows? Maybe he and his wife are on the rocks. Sometimes all it takes is a little nudge…" she teased with a mischievous tone.
"You're incorrigible." Marissa rolled her eyes, but a smile tugged at her lips. Soon, they both burst into laughter.
As they reached their floor, they noticed a buzz of excitement among their colleagues—especially the women.
"Where have you two been?" Eli called out, sauntering toward them. His short-cropped hair was slightly tousled, and his pink suit perfectly matched his confident demeanor. He was practically glowing with energy.
"Tell me you've heard about the new manager," Eli said, leaning in dramatically. His grin was wide, and his voice brimmed with excitement. "Tall, sharp suit, eyes like they belong in a romantic novel. Absolute perfection."
Marissa snorted. "Better than the usual fossils we get stuck with?"
Eli chuckled, his dark eyes sparkling. "Definitely. He's leagues ahead of anyone in this department." He fiddled with the bracelet on his wrist, a habit they all knew signaled nervous excitement.
The three of them walked back to their stations, with Eli eagerly dishing out the latest office gossip. Suddenly, the intercom rang, and Marissa picked it up.
"Marissa, Marketing Department. How can I help you?"
Her expression shifted between curiosity and shock before she handed the phone to Emma. "It's for you. The Marketing Head's secretary."
Emma froze. "What? Why? What did I do?" she whispered before taking the receiver. "Emma speaking. How can I help you?"
Marissa and Eli exchanged wide-eyed looks. The Marketing Head rarely called junior employees directly. Typically, instructions were passed down through the managers. They leaned in, trying to catch the conversation.
"Uh-huh, yes… yes… okay…" Emma stammered before putting the phone down, her face a mix of confusion and disbelief.
"What was that about?" Marissa and Eli asked in unison.
"They said I need to go to Room 1502," Emma replied, sounding unsure.
"Wait, isn't that office still vacant?" Marissa asked. "That is office of the manager that resigned last week, didn't he? Are you being promoted?"
Emma laughed nervously. "Promoted? From Junior Assistant Manager to Manager without going through AM first? That's ridiculous. And, no, you didn't recommend me, did you?"
"Oh my God!" Eli squealed, clasping his hands dramatically. "That's the new manager's office! The one everyone's been buzzing about! The prince-like guy!"
Emma walked toward the new office, her thoughts spiraling with questions about why she had been summoned. She didn't know the new manager—that was one. Two, she was certain she hadn't done anything wrong. Three, she always adhered to company policies. Four, it couldn't possibly be a promotion.
Five... Oh no, was it because she had been late today? But she had already explained that—blaming the earthquake and getting stuck in the elevator. Still, a flicker of doubt crept in. Don't tell me they reviewed the CCTV and caught me arriving late… or worse, noticed how recklessly I parked my car. She groaned inwardly, her anxiety mounting with every step.
Emma hesitated outside the office door, her palms slightly clammy as she adjusted her blouse. She had rehearsed a dozen scenarios in her head during the walk here, each one more ridiculous than the last. Taking a deep breath, she pushed the door open.
And froze.
Sitting casually at the desk was the man she had met in the elevator earlier that morning—the same man she had been caught openly admiring. He was even more striking in the daylight spilling through the office's tall windows, his tailored coat emphasizing his broad shoulders and his smile as disarming as it had been hours ago.
"Ah," he said, leaning back in the chair, his voice rich with amusement. "Hey, It is you again."
Emma's face flushed crimson. She was sure her shock was written all over her face, but before she could stammer out a response, he laughed—a deep, warm sound that echoed in the room.
"Relax," he said, waving her in.
Before Emma could say anything, another voice interrupted. " Do you know one another?" William just nod without further elaborating how. Then Mr Alvarez look at Emma again "Miss Dee, where have you been?"
Emma snapped her attention to the Marketing Head, Mr. Alvarez, who stood by the window, his arms crossed and a stern expression on his face. "We've been waiting for almost two hours."
"I-I apologize, sir," Emma stammered, stepping inside. "I was in the meeting earlier, I wasn't aware—"
"Well, you know now," Mr. Alvarez interrupted briskly. "This is Mr. William C. Leonhart, your new manager. Since you're one of the most familiar with the layout of our operations, I need you to give him a tour of the building."
Emma blinked. "A tour?" she repeated, her thoughts already running wild. Isn't that HR's job? And who even does in-person tours anymore when you can just open your company laptop and do it virtually? What is this, the Stone Age? she grumbled internally, though her face remained the picture of polite compliance.
"Yes," Alvarez said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "While it can be done virtually, Mr. Leonhart has insisted on seeing everything in person. Make sure he's introduced to all department heads and familiarize him with our workflows."
She nodded stiffly, her gaze flickering to William, who was watching her with an unreadable expression.
"Miss Dee," Alvarez added, his tone softening slightly, "I trust you'll handle this professionally."
"Of course," she replied quickly, forcing a polite smile
Emma led William out of the office, her pulse quickening with every step. His tall frame and effortless confidence filled the hallway, amplifying the unease simmering beneath her professional demeanor.
"So," he said, breaking the silence, his tone casual yet deliberate, "how long have you been with the company?"
"Six years," Emma replied, keeping her tone clipped and formal.
"Six years? Impressive. And you haven't bolted for greener pastures yet?" His smirk was faint but unmistakable, the kind that tugged at the edges of his otherwise serious expression.
Emma allowed herself a small smile. "I guess I thrive on chaos."
William chuckled, his warm laugh unexpectedly easing some of her tension.
The tour began on the ground floor. Emma kept her explanations succinct, detailing the reception area, security protocols, and the public relations department responsible for managing client inquiries and events. William listened attentively, asking a few pointed questions. His curiosity felt genuine, his demeanor approachable, almost disarming.
By the time they reached the second floor, Emma found herself relaxing, despite her earlier misgivings. She introduced him to several colleagues in the sales department, who all seemed instantly taken with their new manager's charm.
"This is our sales department," she explained, gesturing toward the team. "They handle client accounts, track leads, and ensure targets are met."
William nodded thoughtfully. "And how do they coordinate with marketing?"
"We have bi-weekly strategy meetings and use a shared CRM system for collaboration," she replied smoothly.
"Efficient," he remarked, his questions diving deeper into workflows and processes, revealing a sharp mind beneath his casual exterior.
Floor by Floor they moved steadily through the building, floor by floor, stopping to visit finance, research and development, and HR. At every stop, William engaged with employees, his thoughtful questions and easy charisma leaving a trail of impressed colleagues in his wake.
By the time they reached the executive floor, Emma was feeling drained yet oddly accomplished.
"This is the executive level," she explained, motioning to the sleek glass offices. "Here, we have meeting rooms, the boardroom, and the CEO's office."
"And where's your office?" William asked, a teasing glint in his eye.
Emma laughed despite herself. "I'm not exactly corner-office material yet."
Descending the stairs, Emma checked her watch. "It's noon already," she said. "Would you like me to show you the cafeteria?"
"That sounds perfect," William replied, his smile as effortless as his stride.
The cafeteria buzzed with life, the aroma of fresh coffee and warm food hanging in the air. Emma grabbed a tray, acutely aware of the curious stares directed their way. Specially how they started at the man she is with. Gossips do really travel fast.
They found a table near the windows, and Emma worked hard to keep the conversation professional, even as her thoughts churned. She couldn't shake the questions bubbling under the surface. How was it his first day when, just this morning, he'd claimed he wouldn't be working here? Why hadn't there been any announcement about a new manager?
Marissa's words echoed in her mind: the department was already overstaffed with managerial candidates. That was the supposed reason no internal promotions had been made to replace the recently resigned manager. And yet, here he was—this man with a goofy yet undeniably charming smile, seemingly plucked from nowhere and handed the role.
But the real kicker? How did he already know her? Their brief encounter in the elevator couldn't possibly explain the familiarity in his tone or the glint of recognition in his eyes. Was this a coincidence, or was there more at play? Emma frowned at her tray, her fork idly poking at a piece of broccoli…
Then, out of nowhere, William reached over, plucked a piece of broccoli off Emma's plate, and popped it into his mouth.
"I remember you hated vegetables," he said casually, chewing with a maddening nonchalance.
Emma froze. What the— Did he just eat her broccoli? That didn't sound—or feel—right. And since when did he know her food preferences? Her mind raced, trying to piece together what was happening. She struggles to keep the conversations professionally.
"So…" she began, her tone forcibly light, "What made you join our company? I thought you said you weren't planning to work here."
William leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable. He appeared to consider her question for a moment before leaning forward slightly, closing the distance between them.
"I changed my mind," he said, his voice smooth and deliberate. His gaze locked onto hers. "Because of you."
Emma's breath hitched, her heart skipping in a way she didn't appreciate.
"Let just say I'm drawn to challenges," he said, his voice smooth but deliberate. "This place has a lot of potential." His gaze lingered on her as he added emphasizing the word potential, "And I like turning potential into results." As he took another broccoliout of her plate.
Emma blinked, momentarily thrown off by the intensity of his words. Her heart raced, and her thoughts spiraled. Who the hell is this guy? she wondered. But she couldn't ask that—not with him being a manager. That kind of confrontation could spark exactly the kind of office drama she wanted to avoid.
Maybe he'd just said that because of their brief encounter in the elevator. Back then, she'd nervously rambled to fill the awkward silence. She vaguely remembered talking about the monotony of her job—how it was both mind-numbing and endlessly challenging. And hadn't she mentioned the constant pressure from her relatives to settle down and get married?
It clicked. Maybe she'd even thrown in an offhand comment about hating broccoli, too. That would explain his familiarity, wouldn't it?
Still, his confident demeanor and the way his words lingered in the air unsettled her. Emma couldn't help but feel like there was more to William than his easy smile and bold declarations.
"And you?" he countered. "What keeps you here? Aside from that you like working in chaos?"
She hesitated, careful not to sound shallow by admitting the real reason—the salary here was leagues ahead of what her friends earned at other companies. Instead, she chose her words thoughtfully, keeping her tone polished and professional.
"I enjoy being part of something that grows," she said, meeting his gaze steadily. "It's rewarding to see your efforts make a difference."
Her response was smooth, but the weight of her carefully omitted truth lingered in the back of her mind.
"That sounds very mindful, very demure." William chuckled and they both laughed.
The conversation flowed effortlessly, yet Emma couldn't shake the feeling that there was something beneath William's polished surface, something she couldn't quite place.
As they strolled back to the office, William turned to Emma with a grin that could sell toothpaste.
"Thanks for the tour, Emma. You've been a lifesaver."
"Not a problem," she replied with the kind of polite smile that HR probably teaches."Anything to help you survive day one without crying in the break room."
Emma jokingly says.
"So this is" William extended his hands as they separate. They hand shake, as Emma was turning away William suddenly pulled her and whispered into her ears. "I will DM you later out of the office so we could talk in a not mindful and demure way."
Emma stood frozen in place, watching as the man she'd just escorted around the company sauntered back to his office, radiating enough sex appeal and confidence to power the entire building. She couldn't shake the feeling that this wasn't just the end of the tour—it was the prologue to something far more tangled... and far more intriguing.