Chapter 2

For the next hour, I was hit with the most relentless interrogation of my entire career.

Frank wouldn't stop hounding me, firing off questions nonstop. "Come on, how do you know Ms. Sinclair? What's the deal between you two? The way she says your name, that is weird, super weird. Don't even try to deny it."

I said, "We are high classmates."

Frank pressed, "Which high school?"

I shrugged. "One you've never heard of."

Frank kept pushing. "What's the name?"

I shrugged again. "No idea, honestly."

Frank looked skeptical, but for now, he let it slide.

Mark, though, wasn't so easy to shake off. He actually took the long way around the floor to show up at my desk, wearing this sly little grin. "Henry, you know the new CEO, Ms. Sinclair?"

I shrugged. "A nodding acquaintance."

Mark raised an eyebrow. "Seriously? A nodding acquaintance and she calls you by your full name?"

I shrugged again. "She's got a good memory."

He gave me a once-over, his eyes practically saying, 'Of all people, you?'

I also wanted to say that it was me who got this bad luck.

At 3:45 PM, my desk phone rang.

I picked it up. "Henry, Ms. Sinclair wants you to come to her office," the receptionist said.

You could totally hear the curiosity in her voice she wasn't even trying to hide it.

When I hung up, it felt like every ear in the office was suddenly on high alert.

Frank's head popped up over the cubicle wall. "Friend, you get called to the CEO's office?"

I stood up. "Yeah."

Frank leaned in, eyes wide. "What do you think she wants with you?"

Honestly, she's probably about to settle some old scores with me.

I dragged my feet as I made my way to the CEO's office.

The hallway was only about thirty meters long, but it felt like I was walking thirty kilometers.

Along the way, I ran into three coworkers one looked shocked, another jealous, and the last was looking at me with a dead eye.

I knocked and walked in.

The office was filled with a faint, familiar scent.

I knew that scent by heart.

She was already using that brand three years ago.

Julia was sitting behind her desk, holding a pen, didn't bother to look up.

The door closed behind me.

The office was so quiet, you could hear the air conditioner humming.

I stood there by the door, too nervous to go any further.

Julia finally looked up. "Henry, why are you standing all the way over there?"

I shuffled forward a couple of steps. "Ms. Sinclair, is there something you need from me?"

She set her pen down and leaned back in her chair.

She looked at me not cold, not warm, kind of neutral.

Honestly, it was the kind of look you'd give a monkey at the zoo when it was doing something weird and you couldn't help but be amused.

She cocked an eyebrow and asked, "What's got you so jumpy?"

I tried to play it cool. "Me? Not nervous at all."

Julia smirked. "Then why's your left index finger twitching?"

I shoved my hand behind my back, feeling my face heat up.

She knew all about that little quirk of mine whenever I got nervous, my left index finger would start twitching uncontrollably.

She used to love making fun of me for that never missed a chance to poke at it, either.

Julia stood up, walked around her desk, and leaned against the edge, crossing her arms.

She was about two meters away from me.

We hadn't seen each other in a year.

She looked a little slimmer, and her jawline was more defined than ever.

But her vibe was way more intense than before like she'd leveled up big time.

Back when we were living together, the worst she'd ever ask me to do was wash the dishes.

But now, with the way she was carrying herself, it felt like she could have me scrubbing the whole building if she wanted.

She finally spoke up. "Relax. I'm not about to spill our old business at work."

I nodded. "Thanks."

She leaned in a little. "But you need to cooperate with me."

I frowned. "What do you mean?"

Julia said, "At work, I'm your boss and you're my employee. Whatever happened between us before no one's allowed to bring it up."

I nodded. "No problem. That's exactly what I am thinking, too."

She shot me a look. "Aren't you even a little curious why I pick this company?"

I shrugged. "Not really."

She raised an eyebrow.

Honestly, I was dying to know.

Sinclair Holdings had, like, dozens of companies, but she had to pick the one I worked at. And out of all the cities she could've landed in, she ended up right here.

But I didn't dare ask.

Asking would be digging my own grave.

Julia locked eyes with me for three seconds, then gave a quick, almost unsettling smile.

That tiny smile sent chills down my spine, and the hair on the back of my neck stood straight up.

She said, "Alright, you can go now."

I turned and hurried out, moving three times as fast as when I came in.

As my hand touched the doorknob, her voice drifted over from behind me. "Oh, Henry."

I stopped in my tracks.

"Your coworker, Frank..." she paused, " had the receptionist deliver a handwritten letter to me."

I closed my eyes.

Frank, you bastard, how were you so quick?

She said, "There are three typos, two grammar mistakes, and he calls me 'the sunshine under the ice queen.'"

My toes were curling inside my shoes.

She said, her voice totally flat, "Since you're his buddy, you really need to rein him in."

I said, "Yeah, definitely."

As I pulled the door open and stepped out, I let out a huge sigh of relief.

Then I saw seven or eight coworkers at the end of the hallway, all pretending to be passing by.

Every single one of them was holding a glass of water that had gone cold ages ago.

Mark was leaning against the water cooler, giving me a knowing wink. "So, Henry, what does Ms. Sinclair talk with you?"

I shrugged. "Some work stuff, nothing special."

Mark raised an eyebrow. "Work stuff? You spend twenty minutes in her office?"

I shrugged again. "Some old projects, kind of complicated."

Mark let out a sly chuckle. "Didn't you say you and Ms. Sinclair barely knew each other?"

I didn't bother responding and headed straight back to my desk.

Frank was sprawled all over my desk, barely able to contain himself. "Bro, give me the scoop, does Ms. Sinclair mention me at all?"

"She does," I said. "She says your letter had three typos."

Frank's smile froze on his face.

He snatched up his phone in a panic. "Which three typos? Tell me, I'll fix them right now."