Late night at the office
935 Words
Three weeks.
That was how long Naomi Blake had survived working under Ethan Sinclair.
Honestly, it felt more like three years.
Every day inside Sinclair Group followed the same exhausting pattern rushed meetings, impossible schedules, stressed employees, and Ethan’s cold perfectionism hanging over everyone like a storm cloud.
Yet somehow, Naomi was still there.
Still employed.
Which, according to the whispers around the office, was practically a miracle.
“She’s the longest assistant he’s kept all year,” someone muttered near the break room one afternoon.
Naomi pretended not to hear it.
But secretly?
She was shocked too.
Especially because Ethan remained impossible to understand.
Some days he ignored her completely.
Other days he watched her so intensely it made her nervous for no reason she could explain.
And lately, she had started noticing things she probably shouldn’t.
Like how he skipped meals when stressed.
How he rubbed his temples during long meetings when he thought no one was paying attention.
How exhaustion constantly shadowed his eyes no matter how polished he looked.
It bothered her more than it should have.
Which was dangerous.
Very dangerous.
By 9:47 p.m., almost the entire building was empty.
Naomi sat alone at her desk typing quickly, trying to reorganize a disaster of client files before morning.
Her shoulders ached.
Her eyes burned.
But she refused to leave unfinished work behind.
Not when Ethan already looked at her like he expected failure.
The executive floor was unusually quiet tonight. Only the faint sound of rain against the windows and the clicking of her keyboard filled the darkness.
Naomi reached for her coffee without looking.
Empty.
Tragic.
She sighed dramatically and leaned back in her chair.
“I’m starting to think this company feeds on human suffering.”
A voice behind her answered immediately.
“It does.”
Naomi nearly screamed.
She spun around to find Ethan standing a few feet away, sleeves rolled slightly past his wrists, holding a file in one hand.
“How long have you been standing there?”
“Long enough.”
“That’s creepy.”
“You talk to yourself often?”
“Only when billionaires appear out of nowhere and try to kill me with fear.”
To her surprise, Ethan looked mildly amused again.
That tiny almost-smile was becoming dangerously distracting.
Naomi quickly looked away.
“What are you still doing here?” she asked.
“I was about to ask you the same thing.”
“I’m fixing the Wilson account schedule.”
“At this hour?”
“You wanted it done by morning.”
“You could’ve finished it tomorrow.”
Naomi stared at him suspiciously.
Was this the same man who terrified employees over formatting mistakes?
“You’re telling me to rest?” she asked carefully.
Ethan placed the file on her desk. “Don’t sound so shocked.”
“I am shocked.”
For a moment, silence settled between them again.
But unlike before, it wasn’t uncomfortable anymore.
Just… quiet.
Ethan glanced at her computer screen. “You organized these manually?”
“Yes.”
“That would’ve taken hours.”
“It did take hours.”
A pause.
Then unexpectedly, Ethan pulled a chair beside her desk and sat down.
Naomi blinked.
“You’re helping me?”
“Don’t make me regret it.”
She stared at him for another second before turning the laptop slightly toward him.
For the next several minutes, they worked side by side in silence.
And somehow, that silence felt different from the others they’d shared.
Softer.
Closer.
Naomi hated how aware she suddenly was of everything.
The scent of his cologne.
The way his sleeves exposed strong veins along his hands.
The slight crease between his brows when concentrating.
This was bad.
Very bad.
“You missed one,” Ethan said quietly, pointing at the screen.
Naomi leaned closer accidentally at the same time he did.
Their shoulders brushed.
Both of them froze instantly.
The air shifted.
Naomi’s breath caught slightly as she looked up.
Ethan was already staring at her.
Not cold.
Not distant.
Just… looking.
Really looking at her.
Her heart began beating harder for absolutely no reasonable reason.
Neither of them moved away.
For one dangerous second, Naomi thought he might lean closer.
Then Ethan suddenly stood up.
The moment shattered immediately.
“You should go home,” he said calmly.
Naomi blinked, still trying to recover mentally.
“What?”
“It’s late.”
Right.
Late.
Work.
Reality.
She cleared her throat awkwardly and shut the laptop.
“Yeah. Right.”
Ethan picked up his file again, but before walking away, he stopped beside her desk.
“You work too hard.”
Naomi looked up in disbelief.
“I could literally say the same thing to you.”
His expression darkened slightly with something unreadable.
“The difference is,” he said quietly, “I’m used to it.”
For the first time since meeting him, Naomi heard genuine tiredness in his voice.
Not anger.
Not arrogance.
Just exhaustion.
And strangely enough, it made her chest ache a little.
Ethan started walking toward his office again before pausing one last time.
“Oh, and Naomi?”
It was the first time he had said her first name.
Not Miss Blake.
Not formally.
Just Naomi.
Something about it felt unexpectedly personal.
“Yes?”
“That color looks better on you than gray.”
Naomi looked down at her dark blue blouse in confusion before looking back up.
But Ethan had already disappeared into his office.
Leaving her standing there alone…
Trying very hard not to smile.
- Writer
