The Corporate Affair

Chapter Four: Star

Three years later:

"Look who came back!"

I open my arms wide as my mom rushes to embrace me. Her familiar warmth engulfs me, and I hug her tightly, breathing in her comforting scent of lavender and flour. I haven't seen her in three years, and the ache of that time apart melts away as she squeezes me like she never wants to let go.

"I missed you, Mom," I say, my voice thick with emotion. She pulls back just enough to look at me, her tear-streaked face lit with joy.

"I missed you too, sweetheart," she sniffs, brushing my hair back as though she's making sure it's really me. I do the same, noting the streaks of grey in her fawn colored hair.

"Mommy!"

A little tug on my legs pulls my attention down. My toddler, Ethan, is half-hidden behind me, his tiny fingers gripping my jeans. His little head is tilted to one side as he stares at Mom in childish wonder.

Mom goes rigid, her eyes wide as she gapes from me to him, then back to me. My smile is tentative–I didn't mention my motherhood journey to anyone in the last three years.

"Star you..." She's short of words as she bends down and slowly reaches for her grandson. "When? How?"

I resist the urge to choke up and say, "It's a long story Mom."

Gingerly, she picks Ethan up and leads us into the house.

The familiar scent of vanilla candles and aged wood hits me, instantly transporting me back to my childhood. Nothing about my parents’ home has changed in the last three years, and the comfort of its familiarity wraps around me like a blanket.

"I don't know whether to be mad or happy or..." Mom still sounds awed as she studies her grandson. Then she looks at me and her eyes are shining again, "You have a child, Star."

All I can do is smile back as she gushes over him. Ethan–the attention hugger that he is, basks in her praise.

"What's your name, little fella?" She's cooing at him.

" His name is Ethan," I answer as I begin looking around for someone else. He's usually always present. Before I can ask about him, his gravelly voice cuts smoothly into the room.

"Well, well...if it isn't the prodigal daughter."

He stands in the doorway, his expression guarded.

I pause, debating whether to cross the space to hug him, but the memory of his disappointment when I left makes me hesitate. “Good to see you, Dad,” I say instead, hoping to keep the peace.

He doesn't reply, just glares impassively at me. When he catches sight of Ethan, the only sign of surprise is a slight raise of his eyebrows.

"You shouldn't have come back," he grunts harshly, shoving me aside and heading for the exit. We all flinch when he slams the door loudly.

"Don't mind him,” Mom whispers, cradling Ethan in her arms as she leads us further inside. I look around in aching nostalgia. Nothing has really changed.

"You broke my heart when you up and left like that,” Mom continues as we settle into the kitchen. Her tone is gentle, but the weight of her words lingers. “But seeing you now, I know it was for the best. You look amazing.”

I laugh, a little shyly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. "Thanks, Mom.”

She places Ethan in a chair, offering him a cookie from a jar on the counter. "What brought you back?" she asks, her voice careful, as though she doesn't want to push too hard.

"It's okay,”I reassure her. "I got transferred back to London by my company.”

Her face brightens, and she reaches across the table to squeeze my hand. “That's wonderful,” she beams. "Welcome to London, little man!”she says to Ethan, who responds with a delighted laugh.

*

I walk out of the elevator with brisk strides that take me to the reception area in short time. The glass walls and sleek modern furniture scream of sophistication, a stark contrast to the more modest regional office I came from.

The receptionist greets me warmly, "Good morning, Miss Griffin. The boss will join you soon.”

I glance around, taking in the hum of activity. The open-concept workspace sprawls before me, filled with employees hustling between desks and conference rooms. Everything about the headquarters speaks of power and prestige, and a flicker of nervousness churns in my stomach.

A sudden commotion draws my attention. The elevator doors slide open again, and a flurry of assistants rushes out, trailing papers and apologies.

"Silence!”

The booming voice cuts through the chaos, and my breath catches. It's sharp, authoritative—and painfully familiar.

"I can't work with this level of disorganization," the boss snaps. “Where is my head secretary?”

The moment feels surreal, the air thick with tension as everyone freezes. My legs tremble as I force myself to stand. "Right here," I manage, my voice steadier than I feel.

He turns sharply, his eyes landing on me–and the earth tilts.

I never thought I would see those brown eyes again.

Tension drains out of his face and he smiles, setting off a wild conflict of emotions in me.

"Agatha? What are you doing here?"

He steps towards me and I take four steps back, completely dumbfounded.

Agatha?

His face creases in confusion, "What are you..." Then the realization dawns on him. "You're...new," he hesitates, giving me a careful once over, "Who are you?"

The reception is death quiet as I gape at him. I know it has been three years but I can't have changed that much.

He certainly didn't.

"You're kidding, right?" I chuckle dryly, earning outraged looks from the others, "There's no way you don't know who I am."

Is this a prank? After everything he has done...he should know better than to play pranks on me.

"You look like someone I know, I'll give you that," he says, scowling, "Otherwise, I have no idea who you are and I need you to tell me right now."

I have never been this confused my entire life. If this is one of his sick, twisted jokes, then he needs to know it's not funny.

And who on earth is Agatha?

"Neal?" I stress, "What the hell is wrong with you?"

Was lying to me not enough? He used me and betrayed me and now he gets to act like he doesn't know who I am.

The audacity!

"She was transferred from the regional office back in Dublin," the receptionist scrambles to intervene, "Her name is Star Griffin–your new head secretary."