Genre: Romance(?) (Office Yearning Type Sh*t)
Word Count: 2,844
The rain outside battered against the large office windows, making the sunset’s final rays glimmer and reflect. It made for nice lighting, but Leonardo Emory, executive of InkEco, found himself once again scowling at his reflection in the glass windows that overlooked the employee cubicles. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed his secretary, Della Hamilton, walking towards him from the opposite end of the large office. The glass box he called an office didn’t give him much privacy, especially with the curtains drawn, but to his fortune she was looking at her phone.
With all of the subtlety of a bulldozer, he rubbed the creases in between his brows, frustratedly attempting to make them disappear. But he couldn’t help it. That’s what she made him.
Frustrated.
The door opened without so much of a knock. He’d usually send a glare at anyone who didn’t, but Della wasn’t just anyone. As she stepped through, it was an… unfortunate instinct for him to speak first. “You’re still here?” He nearly bit his tongue.
Della’s reply was automatic. “I don’t leave until you leave. And it’s about time for you to leave.” She gestured at the clock on the wall that read 7:26pm.
Leo wiped a hand across his face in hopes that it’d give him a clean slate to work with. “In that case, what time is my meeting tomorrow?”
She made sparing eye contact, uninterested in him, as she walked over to his desk, flipping through papers in her hands. “I moved your 10am to 2pm and your 2pm is at 4pm.”
“What about—”
“The CEO of VellumLotus is overseas and Stoxico is on vacation until next week.” It was scary how she could just read his mind sometimes, but at the same time it lifted a weight off his shoulders and kept the river of business flowing. “You said having the advisor wouldn’t matter if the other two aren’t at the meeting.”
A new frustration bubbled in him and he rubbed his temples. “Ugh, Stoxico has been giving me trouble all week. I just need to get this project completed. If they’d stop needling at every little— Ugh.”
“If you’re done grumbling, there’s one more thing.”
“What difference does it make? Nothing can go forward if I can’t make this sale before the week is over. And my fath— the company chair — expected results last week.”
“Yes well,” She paused as if studying his frustration. “That’s the one more thing.” Whatever she was looking for, she didn’t find. “The CEO’s daughter is getting married. She’s his only daughter and it means even more since his wife, her mother, passed away around this time.” The shock must’ve been written all over his face because she coolly continued. “You were on your eighth coffee and singular bagel due to an… urgent family matter.” Instantly, he remembered how his father’s hassling had skyrocketed his stress and sent him into a panic the week prior. “I sent them your condolences, your congratulations, and a personal donation in your honor.”
He watched how she adjusted a purple beaded bracelet and wondered if it was a nervous tick. Though, he had never seen her nervous so it was hard to assume. If anyone was nervous, it was him, not that he’d ever admit it outloud. His curiosity was endless when it came to Della, but she never offered more than her last name. She was a little intimidating, more than he cared to admit, so he never dared to pry, not even when he had seen a picture of Della and a young girl on her phone’s screen once. Was that her daughter? Sister? Whoever it was, he’d never know, especially as he forcefully pulled his thoughts back onto the proper track. He nodded quickly in acknowledgement and appreciation.
“Also, you may want to consider improving your people skills, sir.” When Della was satisfied shuffling papers around, some of hers some of his, she straightened up and turned towards the door.
Leo flinched at how quickly he stood up to follow. Be cool. Relax. He cleared his throat and idly moved random things around on his desk to pretend to clean.
Della’s pause was noticeable, and he felt like he was caught red handed and red faced, but she carried on. “If you’re going to… kiss up to higher powers while they talk about my appearance,” At that, she stood with legs slightly crossed, as if to hide the decorated prosthetic that replaced her right leg, “do me the favor of keeping your door closed. Or simply use meeting room C as it’s soundproofed for presentation purposes.”
Leo’s heart thudded to the floor. The air was sucked out of the room, or at least, out of his lungs as he tried to speak and no sound came out. He was glad that she didn’t catch the heat of horror, embarrassment and shame that crossed his face. It took him a moment to recover. “Ah. You. Uh, you heard them?”
“Good secretaries listen.”
“Della, I’m so sorry.” His shoulders sagged when all she did was raise a brow at him. He tried to read her expression, look for some sign of, well, anything, but she was never easy to read.
“It doesn’t take a genius to know I was hired as someone who would be less distracting.”
He winced a little at the memory of his last secretary, hired by his father, as someone to “look good on his arm” rather than for the actual job. It caused a wildfire of rumors and more headaches than Leo cared for. So when she resigned after a month for a modeling gig, he was overjoyed that his next, Della, had no interest in him. At least, he was overjoyed. For the first time in the five months Leo had known Della, all of her bravado and confidence faltered.
God, he was stupid. He didn’t even like any of those chairmen. He hated having to listen to them ramble without conscience just because they had money. But the idea of them reporting to his father about any small inconvenience was enough to create a new stress he didn’t need. He’d quit if he could! But that doesn’t mean you allow it at the expense of your secretary, dumbass! He berated himself, “Listen, Della, I—” She snapped back into a stiffer professionalism and he couldn't help but grimace at himself for being the cause. “Those old guys, they’re my father’s friends—”
“You don’t have to worry about my feelings, sir. This is a job with a decent enough pay that I can ignore it. Besides, they weren’t very creative.” She studied him again, this time colder and calculated in a way that made him feel bare and small. “Feel free to tell the chairmen that neither they nor you are my type.” She stuck her nose up with an air of poshness that would’ve made him crack a smile had he not been kicking himself for his mistake. “I prefer my men to be… manlier.”
Della walked out of the room and it felt like he was being pulled by an invisible string, practically stumbling after her until he was leaning on his door frame. “Wh— manlier?” He breathed out a laugh, much to her surprised look. “You don’t think I’m manly?” He was far from insulted. Perplexed sure, but mostly enraptured? Happy? He couldn’t tell what it was and it started to feel like delirium. But in the end, when he couldn’t settle for the right emotion, he once again had that frustrated, thoughtful brow.
With the coyness of a fox, Della smirked at him and even he was surprised how warm his face had gotten. “Well. If you have to ask…” Her voice trailed off, punctuated with a shrug as she walked towards the elevator, grabbing a black and purple umbrella from a nearby holder.
Somehow Cupid skipped the arrow and shoved a knife straight into his heart. That little cherub held it there until it bled and when it did, it was pulled out just so he could be stabbed a second time over. And sure, maybe he was being dramatic, but he couldn’t deny how crazy Della had driven him since she arrived. At first he thought it was just the relief of having someone competent to help him. His schedule was always so hectic and the last few secretaries cracked under pressure. But she was a puzzle piece slotted into place, missing where he didn’t know things were needed. In the five months she had been there, all the chaos of his life felt like a breeze because she managed to bring him peace. Della was the definition of the word, he realized.
And there he was, a stupid, stupid fool who hadn't gotten so much as a glance from her. She rarely gave him the time of day, even before the mistake. No matter what he said or did, she never seemed to look his way. Leo slouched on the door frame.
You’ve got it bad. Too, too bad. At this rate, Della could say jump and you’d just say how high. This is not the behavior of a CEO—
The elevator doors pinged and he perked up. No, he booked it. He could turn this around. He had to. There was no way in hell he’d be the annoying boss and the shitty one. She deserved a lot better than either and he could fix at least one of them right now. “Hey, Della, hold on!” His sprint slowed into a jog when she stuck her hand out so the elevator’s sensor would keep them open. Of course, she looked a little startled. He probably looked like a madman. “Listen, Della, I really am sorry about all of that. When they started I was— I mean I tried to, but my father—” He clenched his fists. “No, it’s no excuse. It won’t happen again. I promise you that.”
Maybe it was his own hopefulness, but he could have sworn he saw the look in her eyes soften. More than that, he thought he saw a ghost of a smile and could have mistaken it as the sun rising again. “Of course, Mr. Emory. I will see you at 7am tomorrow as usual.” The elevator dinged and the doors began to close. “I’ll forgive you this time, but it doesn’t change anything, I hope you know that.”
“No— Yeah, of course. I just—” And the doors closed on his face. “You can just call me Leo.”
That … felt like it was okay. He hesitated to be relieved, but it was better than nothing. Her forgiveness was the start. But it was just the start.
He frowned a little more.
Tomorrow he’d do something better to make it up to her.
***
“Everyone likes breakfast, right?” Leo had found himself sheepishly asking Della the same question he had asked his lazy maincoon before he left for work. “...Right?”
Della looked between him and the caterers diligently putting breakfast spreads out, keeping everything the right temperature with the appropriate equipment. The only time he could read her expression was when she was confused and that worried him a little. “You planned this yourself?”
“I, uh, remembered what you said about the coffee and bagel. The multiple coffees. Figured if I was going to skip breakfast at home, I could at least bring it to work once in a while.”
She offered nothing more than an eyebrow raise and skepticism. “...Do you want me to add this to the schedule? I can put this company on a routine, but I’d have to check the budget for frequency—”
“No! No, no.” Leo quickly put his hands up to dissuade her. “I just wanted to— Just. Just go have breakfast Della. You can grab yours before the rush comes. It’s fresh.” She gave him that look again and he was dying to know what it meant, what she was looking for, before she decided she couldn’t find it. Again.
He was willing to show her, he would’ve told her, he would've bared his soul too. All she had to do was ask. But she shrugged and set her bag at her desk, the one directly in front of his office, and walked over to the breakroom to help herself.
For a too long minute, he just watched her go, wondering and internally sighing about workplace taboos. Eventually, the smell of food reminded him how to move and his stomach reminded him that breakfast was for him too. Curiosity compelled him to glance over at her spread. Waffles. I’d usually make pancakes, but I could get a waffle iron. And a fruit bowl stacked as high as she could balance. He kept a mental note.
It was simple and healthy compared to the haphazard bacon and egg and sausage biscuit sandwich he smooshed together with a cream cheese bagel on the side. Even though he had gotten an orange juice, Della’s fruit bowl made him have a taste for a smoothie instead. Maybe I should get more of those. Replace the concerningly increasing coffee addiction I’ve got going on.
The sound of a puff of laughter made him blink and look over at Della. He got wrapped up in his thoughts again. “Huh? What’s so funny?”
“You have that look you get when you have a million dollar idea.” She hid her smirk behind her hand. Or maybe she was hiding the fact that she had food in her mouth. It was a cute gesture either way. “I’d hope it’s not a sloppy breakfast sandwich. There’s plenty of those. But I’ll grab my notebook, so you don’t forget.”
“Oh, uh,” He lowered his sandwich and let out an awkward laugh. “Actually, I was just thinking about how nice a smoothie would be. And how I should get more of them.”
He was tempted to say something else, but fortunately Della blinked and picked up her plate. “I suppose that’s a million dollar healthy idea.”
“You think I have million dollar ideas?”
Della rolled her eyes. “You’ve kept this company alive, haven’t you?”
“I guess I have…”
Even as the two fell into a silence that teetered from peaceful to awkward, Leo couldn’t help the small smile that stayed on his face. “Hey, uh Della,” The silence quickly stumbled into awkwardness and he sometimes wished he was mute before he could ruin a good moment. “I was wondering if you’d—”
The both of them nearly jumped as employees began to pool in with morning conversations and sighs. To their unanimous surprise, they followed the breakfast aroma until they were face to face with their boss who still had surprised written on his face. “Ah, yeah.” Quickly, he shifted back into something more professional and he couldn’t help but notice Della following suit out of the corner of his eye. “Figured you guys would like breakfast. Enjoy yourselves. My treat.” Much to their delight and his, he managed to keep it short and sweet so that they could hurry over and grab their fill.
“What were you planning to ask me, Mr. Emory?” Della handed her now empty plate to someone who offered to recycle it, and picked berries out of her bowl.
Leo flushed and looked down at his half finished sandwich. “Uh,” He found himself frowning at it as the words got tangled on his tongue.
“Is something wrong?”
“No. No. Sorry, I just. I just forgot for a second. Do you mind switching the coffee runs to smoothies? Whichever one you think is the best place that has good, uh, fruit blends. Preferably as little banana as possible.”
This time, when she looked at him, it came with a confused smile, but a smile no less. “If I may be so bold during work hours… you’re kind of odd, Leonardo.”
He thanked God she had pulled out her phone and looked away from him, because a stupid grin possessed him as the sound of his name in her voice echoed in his ears. It sounded like bells he wanted to ring again and again and— His face burned at the idea. Leo downed his orange juice, hoping that would cool him down.
If it didn’t, Della didn’t react when she looked at him. “I know two spots. One’s closer so I can pick them up on my way to work.”
“If it’s not too much trouble.” Is it too unprofessional for me to ask her to keep calling me by my first name? Probably. I’m her boss…
“It’s your dime, not mine. I’d also get my own, of course.”
“That’s more than fine.” Please, get whatever you want actually. A smoothie? An outfit? A car? A ring— Alright reel it back.
“Hm.” She gave him a satisfied nod, ending the conversation there. Della took her bowl of fruit to her desk.
Drowned out by the employee chatter, Leonardo quietly called out, “...Is odd…good?”
Maybe he'd get an answer one day.
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