Chapter eight
1026 Words
By the time I stood outside Adrian’s office, I had already accepted two things. One, this was a terrible idea. Two, I was going to do it anyway.
My hands were full—pretzels, donuts, cookies, a carefully perfected cup of black coffee, and the file that had been haunting my existence since my first day. I adjusted my grip, nearly dropping the cookies in the process, and stared at the door like it might open out of pity.
“You can do this,” I muttered under my breath. “Worst case scenario, you get emotionally destroyed and go home.
Encouraging.
I knocked.
“Enter.”
Of course he was inside. Of course he sounded like that—calm, controlled, like interruptions were a personal inconvenience.
I pushed the door open and stepped in. He didn’t look up immediately, which somehow made it worse.
“I didn’t call for you,” he said. “So can I help you?”
“Ouch, boss,” I replied, walking further in. “You’re as cold as ever. You’re hurting my feelings.”
That got his attention. His gaze lifted, briefly scanning me before settling on the collection of items in my hands. I took that as my moment and moved quickly, placing everything down on his desk in careful order—pastries first, then the coffee, then the file like the final reveal of a very poorly planned presentation.
He looked at the spread, then at me. “…what are all of this for?”
I exhaled slowly. “Okay. So. I was supposed to submit this file since my first day.”
“And how is that my business?”
Fair question. Painful, but fair.
“I need you to help me submit it,” I said, choosing honesty over dignity.
Silence followed immediately, the kind that made it very clear I was already losing.
Before he could respond, I rushed on. “Before you say no, I brought… incentives.” I gestured to the desk. “Pretzels. Cookies. Donuts. And your coffee—black, exactly how you like it. I triple-checked. No emotional interference this time.”
He leaned back slightly, eyes flicking once more over everything I had placed in front of him. “You think bribery changes policy?”
“It changes mood,” I said quickly.
“No.”
That was it. One word. Clean. Final. Completely unmovable..
I stared at him for a second, then straightened slightly, switching strategies. “Okay, fine. Not bribery. Negotiation. I can stay late, take on extra work, reorganize your entire schedule again—better this time. I’ll fix anything that even looks slightly wrong.”
He didn’t respond.
Which somehow made it worse than rejection.
I stepped closer, lowering my voice just a little. “Please.”
Still nothing.
I exhaled sharply. “I tried to submit it. I really did. But the receptionist…” I shook my head. “She said no like I had personally violated company law. She didn’t even blink. I’m pretty sure she was trained to reject people on principle.”
That was lie
I didn't try to submit
There was a pause. A small one. His gaze shifted softening, with amusement in his eyes
Does everything I do amuse this man??
Encouraging. Slightly.
I pressed on. “I was not emotionally prepared for that level of rejection. I need help.”
Lie again
Silence again.
At this point, I was out of reasonable options.
So I abandoned reason entirely.
“I’ll do anything,” I said quickly. “Anything. I’ll take extra work, I’ll stop talking for an hour—” I paused briefly, then added, “—which is a big sacrifice, by the way.”
Nothing.
Right.
I looked at him, then at the file, then back at him.
And then, because clearly I had lost control of my life at some point in the last week, I dropped to my knees.
“Please,” I said, looking up at him. “I am begging you. I will fix anything, I will work harder, I will never mess up your coffee again, I will— I will become the most efficient version of myself you have ever seen,I'll call you King Voss for a whole week”
That got a reaction.
Small. Subtle.
But it was there.
He looked at me differently now—not annoyed,he was amused,there was a little crack of a smile on his face
“I think I like being king voss over Mr voss you know” he smiled
This man smiled?
Where are the news people?
The imaginary camera?
The smile left now
“You’re kneeling over paperwork,” he observed.
“I am kneeling for my job,” I corrected.
Another pause.
Then, without saying anything, he reached forward and opened the pastry box.
I blinked.
He picked a donut. Vanilla sprinkled. Took a bite like this entire situation was completely normal.
Then, calmly, “I’ll take the bribe too. Hand me the file.”
I was on my feet before he finished the sentence. “Yes—yes, of course—thank you—”
I placed the file in his hand, trying not to look too relieved and failing completely.
He glanced at it briefly, then took another bite of the donut.
I watched him for a second.
He had a sweet tooth.
That was… very useful information.
“Why are you still here?” he asked suddenly. “Do you want me to not submit it again?”
I straightened immediately. “No. No, please submit it.”
A pause.
“…I was just wondering if I could take one donut.”
Silence.
He looked at me.
That same unreadable look.
I didn’t wait for an answer.
“I’m going,” I said quickly. “I’m leaving.”
I turned and walked out faster than necessary, resisting the urge to look back.
By the time I stepped out of his office, my heart was still racing—but the file was no longer my problem.
And somehow, that felt like the biggest victory I’d had all week.
- Writer
