Joanne sat in her office chair, rubbing her forehead. She had managed to convince Charlotte—for now. But the words "It's complicated" and "It's adult things" felt hollow. How else was she supposed to explain something so tangled to a twelve-year-old girl?
Jonathan was a good man—arguably the best man she had ever known. But he was still mourning his wife, and even if he did ask her out, Joanne wasn't sure what she felt about him.
Dating?
The word felt foreign, like a language she had once spoken fluently but had long since forgotten.
A sharp knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. She sighed, already bracing herself as Brian Cooper stepped inside. Without acknowledging him, she focused on her laptop, hoping he wouldn't test her patience today.
"Jeffrey Daniels is not suited for this company," Brian announced, his tone brimming with self-importance. "He refuses to do the small tasks, never stays in his seat, and doesn't even try to understand how the company operates—"
Joanne didn't bother looking up. "By 'the workings of the company,' do you mean the fact that he doesn't kowtow to you?"
Brian's face paled. His hands curled into fists.
"He might not enjoy menial tasks," she continued, tilting her head. "But last I checked, the company still runs. He resolved the Virgo Farms cargo delay, found a loophole to bypass the semi-truck restriction law, and even uncovered a way to fully utilize our drivers' medical insurance. Sounds to me like he understands exactly how this company works."
Brian's eye twitched. "That's exactly my point! None of that was his job!"
Joanne almost pitied him. Almost. She wasn't sure if he had actually earned his degree or if his certificates were fake, but one thing was certain—he was an idiot.
"Then I'm changing his designation," she said flatly. "Effective immediately, Jeffrey Daniels is the new Administrative Officer of Shamrock Logistics. Give him a raise."
Brian stiffened, his expression darkening. It wasn't just about Jeffrey—he hated that someone he disliked was already being promoted. Joanne could practically see the gears turning in his head, scrambling for a way to turn this conversation in his favor.
"So," he began carefully, "I'll hire a replacement for his current position. The candidate I mentioned earlier—Chrissy Nolan—would be a good fit."
Joanne blinked. Did this man really think he ran this office?
"You'll hire?" she echoed, disbelief flickering across her face.
Brian straightened his shoulders.
"You're fired, Mr. Cooper."
Silence.
His mouth opened, then closed. His face went red. "What? You can't do that!"
"Oh, I can." Joanne leaned forward, resting her chin on her interlocked fingers, her smile razor-sharp. "Did you think Shamrock Logistics was an IPO? That you could manipulate the board and turn them against the chairman like you did in your last company?" She scoffed. "This company is mine. What I say, goes."
She watched the realization sink into Brian's thick skull. He had no power here.
"Get out of my sight," she continued. "And if you're feeling generous, take every single person you hired with you. I never needed them."
Brian's nostrils flared as he puffed out his chest, fists clenched at his sides. Joanne's gaze flicked to the drawer where she kept her pepper spray. Men like Brian didn't just walk away.
Then, as if proving her point, he slammed his fists onto her desk, the sound cracking through the office.
"You bitch!" he roared.
Joanne didn't even flinch.
Maybe he finally noticed the camera in the corner, because after a tense beat, he stepped back. But he wasn't done.
"You ungrateful bitch," he spat. "You were just some orphan begging around town! My mother fed you, and this is the thanks she gets? The moment you see money, you turn into this?" His lip curled. "Hah! Let's see how long it lasts."
"She thinks she's the queen! She doesn't even have full ownership over this company? Does she think we forgot?"
He stormed out, shouting, and shoving anything within reach off desks as he made his way to his office.
Joanne leaned back in her chair, rubbing her forehead.
That's it, right?
No matter how far she had come, how hard she had worked, to them, she would always be that orphan girl. That unfortunate farmgirl who had once relied on the kindness of others. It didn't matter how many contracts she signed, how many people answered to her, or how much she built from nothing. They still saw her as beneath them. And they wanted to keep her there—under their boots, crushed beneath the weight of their disdain.
Just like they had back then.
She had spent years clawing her way out, building a life beyond this cursed town. Yet, somehow, it had pulled her back. Again. Dragging her down, stripping her of every victory, making her feel like that helpless child once more.
She wanted to rest. Just for a moment. But she didn't know how. Loneliness clung to her like an old wound, and on days like these, it festered, whispering cruel things.
What was the point of all this? What was she fighting for?
A knock at the door cut through her thoughts. She exhaled sharply, torn between the desire to ignore it and the inevitability of duty.
But then, the door creaked open just enough for a familiar face to peek in.
JD.
The tightness in her chest eased, the weight on her shoulders lifting just enough for her to breathe.
He stepped inside with his usual easy confidence, his hazel-green eyes warm with mischief. "Coffee for the boss," he announced, placing the cup in front of her before revealing a small white box with a flourish. "And… tada!"
Joanne glanced at the shop logo and felt a smile pull at her lips despite the day she'd had.
"How did you know I wanted red velvet cake right now?" she asked, motioning for him to sit across from her.
JD grinned, sliding into the chair. "Boss intuition."
She chuckled softly and opened the box, the rich scent of cocoa and cream cheese frosting filling the air. She hadn't realized how badly she needed something sweet until now. She took a bite, letting the smooth frosting and soft cake melt on her tongue, the flavors grounding her in something real, something good.
JD watched her with quiet satisfaction, fingers wrapped around his own coffee. Seeing her enjoy something—even something as simple as cake—made his chest warm with something he couldn't quite name.
He had heard everything Brian had shouted at her. Every sneering word. He had seen the way she had stood her ground, unshaken on the outside, but he wasn't fooled.
They had tried to make her feel small. They had tried to drag her down to where they thought she belonged.
But she didn't belong there.
And as he watched her now, he finally understood why she wore that sharp, untouchable mask around here. Even with all the power she held, they still believed they could break her.
But she wasn't broken.
He was glad, at least in some small way, he could lift her mood. Seeing her like this, relaxed, smiling, warmed by something simple—it made him feel like he had done something right.
God, she was beautiful.
He smiled to himself and took a sip of his coffee, content just to sit here, to share this moment, and to remind her—without words—that she wasn't alone.