Chapter 5
1328 Words
Martina, you good?"
I looked up from the toilet bowl to find the bathroom door cracked open, apparently I forgot to close the door, and Maya, one of the senior designers, was hovering outside the stall.
"Yeah, just something I ate," I lied, flushing and stumbling out to wash my hands. It's the third time this week I'd thrown up at work and people were starting to notice.
"Girl, you need to see a doctor or something. You've been sick for like two weeks straight."
"I will," I promised, even though the last thing I needed was more doctors confirming what I already knew that I was twelve weeks pregnant and barely keeping my head above water.
The design work was more intense than I thought, Damian hadn't been lying about the timeline being aggressive. I was pulling twelve hour days, sitting through endless meetings, and trying not to fall asleep at my desk. The exhaustion was brutal and the nausea was making things worse.
"Phoenix team meeting in five," Maya said. "You coming?"
I nodded, splashing cold water on my face, knowing very well that I looked like hell with dark circles under my eyes and a weird pregnant glow that I was pretty sure just looked like sweat to everyone else.
The meeting was already ongoing in the main conference room and when I walked in, Damian was already addressing the team, obviously I was the only one late, he paused briefly when I entered and something flickered across his face.
"Ms. Royce, we're glad you could join us." His tone was professional and sarcastic. "You look tired."
"I'm fine," I said automatically, sliding into the only seat left.
The meeting dragged on for hours, Damian was going through every detail of the project, asking pointed questions and pushing back on ideas that weren't fully formed while all I wanted to do was take a hot coffee and sleep for days. I tried to pay attention but halfway through, a wave of dizziness hit me so hard I had to grip the table.
"Martina?"
I looked up to find Damian and every other person in the room staring at me with concern. f**k.
"I'm okay," I said quickly. "I just need some water."
"Take a break," he said. "Five minutes everyone."
People filed out but when I stood to follow, Damian's voice stopped me.
"Not you. Sit."
My stomach dropped, does he suspect I'm pregnant? Will I lose my job? The room emptied and it was just the two of us.
"What's going on with you?" he asked in what I believe was an attempt at politeness. "And don't say you're fine because you're clearly not."
"I've just been working a lot," I said. "I'm adjusting to the pace."
He studied me for a long moment and I could see him analyzing, trying to figure out what he was missing. "You're a good designer, Martina and your work is solid but you're running yourself into the ground and it's only been two weeks."
"I can handle it."
"Can you?" He leaned forward. "Because it's looking like something else is going on with you.”
"Is there a reason you're so concerned about me specifically?" I asked, trying to sound professional instead of defensive. "You have twenty people on this team."
Something shifted in his expression. "You're right, I do." He stood, buttoning his jacket. "But you report directly to me which means your performance reflects on me. If you can't keep up, I need to know now."
The coldness in his tone stung more than it probably should, this was the Ruthless Ice King everyone talked about, the version of him that cares about nothing but results.
"I can keep up," I said firmly.
"Good. Then prove it by submitting all fifteen screens of your revised mockups by the end of tomorrow.” He headed for the door then paused. "And Martina got some sleep, you're no good if you burn out in the first month."
I made it through the rest of the day somehow, working through lunch because food made me nauseous anyway. By six pm, most people had cleared out but I was still at my desk, staring at color palettes that all looked the same.
"You're still here."
I jumped, turning to find a woman standing by my desk. She was tall and looked gorgeous with her blonde hair styled perfectly, wearing a dress that screamed expensive, she's one of those faces I've seen around the office before but we'd never spoken, she's one of the higher ups.
"Working on Phoenix," I said
"Aren't we all." She extended her hand. "Varrisa Mance, I handle PR for the company."
I shook her hand. "Martina Royce."
"I know who you are." Her smile didn't quite reach her eyes. "The new designer Damian's so invested in, which is weird because he doesn't usually pay this much attention to new hires."
There was something in her tone that made me defensive. "He's just very hands on with the project."
"Oh, Damian's always hands on with something." She perched on the edge of my desk, studying me. "You know, you look really familiar, have we met before?"
My blood went cold. "I get that a lot but I don't think so."
"Hmm, maybe I've just seen you around." She glanced at my screen. "Working late on your second week? That's dedication or maybe desperation."
"I'm just trying to meet the deadline."
"Right." She stood, smoothing her dress. "Word of advice though, Don't burn yourself out trying to impress Damian, he appreciates hard work but he's..." she paused, choosing her words carefully. "He's got very specific standards and he doesn't do emotional attachments or frolicking with tacky employees, I wouldn't want you to learn that the hard way."
Before I could respond, she walked away, leaving me sitting there with a knot in my stomach.
I gathered my things and headed for the elevator an hour later, the building was mostly empty now, except for security and a few workaholics like me.
When the elevator doors finally opened on the ground floor, I was surprised to see Varissa standing in the lobby on her phone. She ended her call when she saw me, that same calculating smile on her face.
"Martina. Heading home?"
"Yeah."
"I'll walk out with you." She fell into step beside me even though I hadn't invited her. "You know, I meant what I said earlier about Damian, He's a complicated man with a lot of baggage when it comes to women."
"I'm just here to work," I said through gritted teeth. Higher up or not she's starting to grate on my nerves.
"Of course you are." We stepped outside into the cool night air. "But working closely with someone like Damian there are times lines can get blurred and trust —."
“Varissa please, I'm here to work and the CEO is nothing but a boss to me”
She turned to face me fully. "I'm just saying, be careful, he doesn't trust easily and when that trust gets betrayed, he destroys people."
There was a threat hidden in those words but I was too exhausted to figure out what game she was playing.
"Thanks for the advice," I said, moving toward the subway.
"Anytime," she called after me. "Oh, and Martina? If you ever need someone to talk to about anything, my door's always open. Sometimes it's nice to have another woman to confide in, especially when you're dealing with something... complicated."
Like hell I would open up to a pick me like her. I pasted a fake smile on my face and pretended to forget something back at the office just so I could take another route. My phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number.
“The gala photos from October are very interesting, especially the ones of you in that silver dress dancing with a popular CEO.”
- Writer
