When Emma returned to her station, Eli and Marissa pounced on her like gossip-starved hyenas.
"Emma! What was that?" Marissa started, eyes wide. "We saw you!"
"Saw me what?" Emma replied, playing dumb, though she knew exactly where this was heading.
"Don't 'what' us!" Eli interjected, dramatically pointing a finger. "You and the new manager! In the cafeteria! Eating together! Leaning close! Some even says you two are feeding each other! Like some romantic rom-com scene!"
Emma blinked. "Feeding each other? Are you serious?" Gossips here are vicious.
"Yes!" Marissa hissed. "And now, the single ladies on this floor officially hate you. Their dreamboat of a manager, William the Wonderful, and you're… what? Sharing spaghetti like Lady and the Tramp?"
Emma groaned. "NOOOOO, first of all, We are not eating spaghetti, that is so messy to eat.
Eli then cut her "You are the only adult who makes a mess eating a spaghetti."
Emma continues "Second, I was asked to give him a tour of the building. That's it!"
Eli raised an eyebrow. "A tour of the whole building? Nobody gets a physical tour. We've got a virtual walkthrough on the company website for that. Why would he need you to show him around?"
"Beats me." Emma shrugged, though she felt just as puzzled. What's weird is that guy asked for her specifically. The way he acted—it's like he already knows her. But that is what she can't figure out how…
Eli's eyebrow arched higher. "You're not… flirting with him, are you?"
"Absolutely not," Emma snapped. "I kept it as professional as humanly possible. I have no idea what his deal is.
Marissa rolled her eyes dramatically, spinning back to her computer. "Honestly, who wouldn't take advantage of a situation like that? You're single, he's single? What's the problem? I'd have fed him dessert too."
Emma sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I don't want office drama. You know how complicated that gets."
Eli smirked, leaning back in his chair. "So, you're saying you don't have the hots for him?"
Emma shot him a look, but the faint pink creeping up her cheeks betrayed her. "Look," she said carefully, "I'm only human. Anyone with eyes can see he's… well, he's very Prince Charming. But no. I'm not about to dive into some office romance and ruin my life."
Eli raised an eyebrow. "Physical attraction doesn't ruin lives, babe. Denial, though? That's a slow burn disaster."
Emma groaned, spinning her chair to face her monitor. "This conversation is over. Campaign launch in two days—remember that?"
Marissa snorted but didn't press further, and Eli eventually got back to work, though not without giving Emma one last knowing look.
As much as Emma hated to admit it, her resolve wasn't entirely unshakable. Sure, William was charming, devastatingly handsome, and exuded that effortless confidence that made women—and apparently, half the office—swoon. But office romances were a minefield, and Emma didn't trust herself to navigate one unscathed.
She muttered under her breath, "Nope. Not worth it."
Still, as the day dragged on, her mind kept wandering back to that lunch, the way he smiled at her, and the strange, nagging feeling that there was more to him than he was letting on.
The rest of the day was a blur of work, punctuated by the occasional glare from her female coworkers. Emma hated office drama, and this was shaping up to be a full-blown soap opera.
By the time she left the office, the stares felt sharper, like daggers aimed at her back. Reaching her car, she let out a sigh of relief. But just as she unlocked the door, her phone buzzed.
She glanced at the notification: a direct message.
Emma frowned. Her social media profiles were locked to friends only. The sender's name wasn't familiar: Liam, like Liam Nelson of the movie Taken. The profile picture was just a sleek, black Lamborghini.
Curiosity got the better of her. She opened the message.
"Did you get home safely?"
She stared at the text. Who was this? And why did it feel… personal? Against her better judgment, she typed back:
"Who is this?"
The reply was almost instant.
"Someone who owes you a thank you."
Her heart skipped. The words felt oddly intimate, yet cryptic.
"For what?" she asked.
This time, the response took longer. When it came, it sent a chill down her spine.
"For the tour. And for pretending not to remember me."
Emma's pulse quickened. William. It had to be him. But pretending not to remember? She racked her brain, but no memory of him surfaced.
"Pretending?" she typed. "Maybe you're confusing me with someone else."
The reply was immediate.
"Emma. Do you really think I don't know you?"
Her stomach turned. She locked her phone, tossing it onto the passenger seat. This was no ordinary flirtation or workplace misunderstanding.
As she drove home, her mind replayed his words. And then, her phone buzzed again.
"Check the second drawer of your desk tomorrow. Maybe then you'll understand."
Emma froze. Her desk? What could possibly be there?
By the time she reached home, her curiosity had morphed into unease. Who was William, and what did he know about her?
Tomorrow held answers, but Emma wasn't sure she was going believe it.
Emma jolted awake as her alarm clock blared through the quiet morning. It was 6 a.m.—time to get ready for work. Yet, her mind lingered in a fog, unable to recall how she'd managed to fall asleep the night before. William's last text haunted her thoughts: "You know me, and you're good at pretending." The words played on a loop in her head, taunting her with their cryptic weight. But there was no time to dwell on it now. She had to pull herself together and face the day ahead.
For starters, Emma wasn't rushing. Instead of channeling her inner "Fast and Furious" driver, as she cruised patiently down the road, her favorite Spotify playlist setting the tone for an oddly tranquil morning.
When she arrived at the office, everything seemed normal—until she reached the elevator. Standing there among the usual crowd was Patrick, her long-time crush from the finance department. Her heart skipped a beat. They exchanged polite nods and a "good morning," but then Patrick surprised her by striking up a conversation.
"So, did you guys started implenting the campaign yet?" he asked casually.
Emma, caught off guard and hyper-aware of her colleagues' prying eyes, could only manage a series of awkward nods. She wasn't sure if they were watching because of yesterday's drama or because Patrick had just spoken to her, but their stares felt like lasers.
By the time she reached her floor, Emma was still reeling from the encounter. But her excitement didn't end there. She hurried to her desk, eager to check her drawer, where William had promised to leave something for her.
Opening it, her heart leapt again. Inside was not one but two movie tickets for Friday night.
What the hell? A movie ticket? Seriously? Emma stared at it, utterly baffled. It had been ages since she last watched a movie—so long, in fact, she couldn't even recall the details. Her mind drifted, trying to summon the memory of her last cinematic experience.
Oh, right. High school. That one awkward, cringeworthy movie night.
Back then, she'd gone to her sister for permission to watch a movie with a guy—her study buddy, Jerome. Her sister, ever the dramatic advisor, warned her about the dangers of cinema dates. "Guys take advantage of the dim lights and silence," she'd declared ominously. "First, he'll hold your hand. Then, he'll put his arm around your shoulder. And boom! He'll try to kiss you. And you know what happens when a guy kisses a girl? She gets pregnant!"
Emma, being young and tragically gullible, believed every word. Her school didn't teach sexual education, so who was she to question such wisdom? Beside her sister is the date goddess pratically having guys line up for woe her. She swore on her life she wouldn't let Jerome so much as brush her hand, and with that promise, her sister reluctantly agreed.
The day of the movie arrived, and Emma was a nervous wreck. Her heart pounded as if it might leap out of her chest. But Jerome, bless his oblivious soul, was nothing like the predator her sister described. He was polite, respectful, and, frankly, didn't seem all that interested in her.
They sat in the cinema, side by side, watching the film. Emma braced herself for something—a handhold, an arm around her shoulder, maybe even the dreaded kiss—but nothing happened. They just… watched the movie. They laughed at the funny parts, stayed silent during the dramatic ones, and that was it.
By the time the credits rolled, Emma's heart was still racing, though more from sheer anticipation than any romantic interaction. As they exited the theater, she spotted some classmates on the same floor of the mall. Naturally, they teased them mercilessly. She flushed crimson, her heart pounding anew.
The only moment of contact came when they were on the escalator. She was hearing some of their classmate shouting at them but she could not recall what. When Jerome briefly held her hand to steady her. And that was it. Nothing else.
But Emma's anxiety got the better of her. The next morning, she woke up with a fever and skipped school for three days. When she finally returned, the teasing continued, though not as intensely. And then Jerome, in a surprising twist, confessed that he'd only asked her out because he was "testing the waters." Apparently, he was dealing with an identity crisis.
By the time they graduated, Jerome came out as gay, delivering the news with a casual shrug during their grad ball. Emma, stunned but oddly relieved, realized she'd been spared the drama of a high school romance.
And that, dear movie night, is precisely why Emma had avoided setting foot in a cinema with a guy ever since—despite now, knowing that kissing alone won't get you pregnant. For that, you need sperm, as she vividly recalls from her project and checklist.
Emma was checking the movie ticket for It Ends with Us when someone in front of her suddenly said, "Ooh, Emma, always the early bird!" It was Eli, who was also early today. She immediately hid the ticket. She wasn't sure whether to tell him about it— that it was William who had given it to her. She knew Eli was quite the chatterbox, and if he told everyone at the office, it would only add fuel to the fire of resentment among her colleagues. So, she decided to keep it to herself.
"I heard you're also eyeing Sir Patrick. Greedy much?" Eli teased with a mischievous grin.
Emma vehemently denied it. "Patrick? Seriously? He's married!" She rolled her eyes. Sure, everyone had a harmless crush on him, but her concerns were elsewhere—specifically, with William.
She wasn't sure whether to call William and tell him she had the tickets or to wait for him to make the first move. He was the one playing mysterious, after all. Finally, she decided to let him reach out first. But as lunchtime rolled around, there was still no call, no DM, nothing. She found herself increasingly irritated, though she couldn't quite explain why.
At lunch, she joined Eli and Marissa in the cafeteria. Despite herself, she scanned the room for William, but he was nowhere to be seen.
"Looking for someone?" Eli muttered between bites of cake.
Marissa smirked, joining in on the teasing. "Is it Patrick? Or William?"
Emma threw up her hands in mock surrender, annoyed.
Marissa grinned. "Wow, something's different about the ladies today. Everyone's all dolled up—sexy outfits, full makeup. What's going on?"
"Unlike our chicken here, who just looks pissed," Eli added, pointing his dessert fork at Emma.
Emma glared. "You know what? Maybe it's not because of me and maybe it's just Friday night, and everyone's gearing up for the weekend."
"Girl…" Eli said, finishing his dessert. "These things? Definitely not about you. It's about him—the prince."
The rest of the day passed in a blur as they focused on the soft launch of the company's new ad campaign. Emma did her best to ignore the office gossip and stay on task. By the end of the day, the launch was a success, earning them some well-deserved congratulations.
"Congrats, everyone!" Eli said cheerfully. "What do you say we celebrate with drinks?"
Marissa stretched her arms above her head. "Success! I'm in. Emma, you coming?"
Emma was about to say yes when her phone buzzed. She discreetly answered, stepping away from her coworkers.
"Yes?"
William's familiar chuckle came through the line. "Did you find the ticket?"
"Yes," she replied curtly.
"Great. Let's watch the movie. It's for the last full show this evening."
"No." Emma is getting back at him for making her wait all day.
Before she could say more, Eli called out, "Hey, girl! You coming or what?"
Emma turned back to her phone, ready to end the call, when William's voice dropped to a whisper. "I hate to break it to you, but I'm waiting right by your car… and people are starting to stare."
"WHAT?!" Emma shouted, drawing attention from Eli and Marissa.
She quickly waved them off. "Emergency. I've got to go!"
As she bolted for the elevator, she muttered to herself, What the hell is this guy trying to do? Make me public enemy number one at work?