⋅•⋅⊰∙∘⋆✼♡✽⋆∘∙⊱⋅•
I swallowed hard, and I swear the sound echoed in my head as I nodded and moved toward the door behind Xavier Fairchild. I was really trying to present myself as a cool and responsible adult, even though my mind was racing with thoughts of planning my own professional funeral.
Walking behind Xavier felt like trailing a dashing executioner, and every step down the hallway felt heavier than the last, as if the carpet was trying to prepare me for the end of my steady paycheck.
We stepped into the private executive elevator, and the doors slid shut with a soft chime that felt way too final for my liking.
The silence in there was almost violent.
It was the kind of silence that forced you to hear your own thoughts, whether you wanted to or not. Unfortunately, mine were anything but calm or rational.
This was it.
This was how it ended.
Three years of being the perfect PA wasted because I couldn't let a stunning idol sleep alone.
I kept my hands neatly folded as I internally spiraled, feeling like I could power a small city with my anxiety. Losing this job meant way more than just losing a paycheck; it meant losing the favorite topic at my parents' Thanksgiving table. They'd beam with pride as they shared with everyone back in our quiet little town of Heyseville that their son worked at Fairchild Innovations as the personal assistant to a big CEO, like I'd emerged from a corporate fairy tale.
And then there was Levi.
God, poor Levi.
My sweet, brilliant little brother who was in this really cool college and studying a smart person course like engineering, who depended on me more than he knew. He saw me as this amazing, stable adult.
How was I supposed to help cover his big ass tuition if I got fired? How could I tell him that big brother ruined everything because he couldn't resist the nightlife, poor choices, and a ridiculously attractive singer?
The elevator chimed too soon, and the doors slid open, dropping us off on the top executive floor.
Mr. Fairchild's office looked exactly like you'd expect from a man who thrived on control, power, and emotional suppression. The room was huge and spotless, with tinted glass walls that overlooked the entire city of New Athens, showing off a stunning view of steel-grey skyscrapers and distant, shimmering rivers.
In the center was a massive dark-wood desk, perfectly organized with a sleek laptop, a tasteful metal pen holder, stacked documents, and one small decorative plant that looked far healthier than I felt.
The color scheme was cool and commanding, charcoal walls, silver accents, low warm lighting that somehow felt both intimidating and inviting at the same time. The air was filled with a hint of expensive cologne, polished wood, and something calming I tried not to dwell on.
I stepped inside, and the doors closed behind me with a kind of weight that screamed lawsuits.
By now, I'd started drafting my resignation speech in my head. Maybe I could freelance. Work at a coffee shop? Levi's college dreams might have to rely on a lot of hope and prayers.
I barely noticed him move until the soft sound of leather on leather signaled that he was settling into his chair behind the desk. I glanced up just in time to see him lean back, one hand resting lightly on the armrest, regarding me with that familiar expression of his...unreadable, grumpy, and unnervingly composed.
"Sit, Theodore," he said, calm as ever.
God, I loved it when he said my name...
Focus, boy! Damn it, now's not the time!
I complied immediately, moving to the chair across from him and lowering myself as if I were waiting for a judge to deliver a verdict.
As I settled into the leather chair, my back straightened automatically. I was sure that poor posture could get me tossed out by security. Mr. Fairchild studied me in silence for what felt like an eternity, and I could practically hear my heartbeat in the quiet space between us.
He leaned back slightly, hands folded in front of him, looking calm to anyone else but feeling like the start of a courtroom drama to me.
"And," he finally said, his tone deceptively level, "care to tell me what excuse you've prepared for being late to one of the most important meetings we've had this quarter?"
I blinked.
Oh great, we were starting off aggressively.
He tilted his head a fraction, his sharp grey eyes piercing as he continued, "Let me guess. Did a cat get trapped in a tree? Or maybe you had to help an elderly person cross the street? I'm sure your civic duty has once again made you unable to be on time."
Honestly, I kind of deserved that.
My mouth opened and closed a few times as I mentally sorted through the lies I'd told before, all of which now seemed ridiculously stupid. Flat tire, food poisoning, alarm mishap, emergency dentist appointment. I'd used them all and somehow made them all sound suspicious.
I cleared my throat, gripping the edge of the chair lightly as I sat a bit straighter. "I… um, stayed with a friend last night, sir," I said, choosing the only honest path I could. "He lives a little far from the office, and I misjudged how long it would take to get here this morning."
His expression shifted immediately.
Not to anger, really, but to something colder and sharper, like frost settling on glass.
"Inconsistent," he said, leaning forward a bit, resting his forearms on the desk. His voice remained controlled but now had an edge that sent a chill down my spine. "That's the best word to describe your recent behavior, Theodore. You used to be punctual, precise, and dependable. Recently though, you've been late, distracted, and forgetful in ways that don't meet this workplace's standards."
He exhaled slowly, and I could have sworn the temperature dropped another degree.
"Fairchild Innovations doesn't tolerate carelessness," he added. "And it certainly doesn't tolerate a personal assistant who treats his responsibilities like optional extras."
I swallowed hard, even though his voice wasn't raised, the disappointment hit way harder than any shouting could.
"I'm sorry, sir," I said quickly, my voice softening despite myself. "It won't happen again."
The words came out automatically, a reflex honed since I was a kid. I hesitated for just a moment before asking, very quietly, "Am I… going to get fired?"
I tried to sound casual, but it came out more like I was asking if he was planning to let me live.
He didn't reply right away.
Instead, he leaned back in his chair, let out a long sigh, and gazed out the window. The silence that followed was so heavy I could almost feel it pressing down on my chest.
For a horrible moment, I was convinced I was about to leave this office unemployed, disgraced, and maybe even disowned by my parents when they found out.
...You know what, I'm not going to be a victim. My ass deserved whatever I was going to get.