CHAPTER FIVE — CRACKS IN THE ICE
1069 Words
Yoko woke up the next morning with one very inconvenient realization.
She could no longer say she completely hated Faye Malhotra.
She still disliked her, of course.
Still found her arrogant.
Still wanted to scream into a pillow after most conversations.
But something had shifted.
And Yoko wasn’t happy about it.
The gala replayed in her mind like an annoying song she couldn’t turn off — the way Faye had stood beside her, the unexpected compliment, the firm “She’s with me.”
It had felt protective.
Warm.
And entirely too confusing.
“Get it together,” Yoko muttered at her reflection while brushing her hair. “She is your boss. A scary, emotionally unavailable, impossible boss.”
Her reflection offered no comfort.
At exactly 8:15 a.m., she arrived at the office determined to return to normal.
Normal meant:
Professional distance.
No unnecessary eye contact.
Minimal emotions.
A solid plan.
Which immediately fell apart the moment Faye walked in.
“Good morning,” Yoko said politely.
Faye glanced at her. “You’re early.”
“So are you.”
“I’m always early.”
“Right. Silly me.”
Faye narrowed her eyes slightly. “Are you in a mood today?”
“No, Madam Malhotra,” Yoko replied with an overly bright smile. “I am perfectly delightful.”
“Hm.”
That single hum carried more suspicion than an entire interrogation.
The day began calmly enough.
Emails. Calls. Meetings.
Yoko was just starting to think she might survive without another emotional breakdown when Faye called her in.
“Close the door.”
Uh-oh.
Yoko obeyed. “Did I do something wrong?”
“Not yet,” Faye replied. “But there’s potential.”
“Comforting.”
Faye slid a document across the desk.
“I need you to review this contract. There are inconsistencies.”
Yoko scanned the pages carefully. “This is… complicated.”
“That’s why I’m giving it to you.”
“Most bosses would give this to legal.”
Faye leaned back. “Most assistants aren’t as annoyingly detail-obsessed as you.”
Yoko blinked. “Was that—”
“An observation,” Faye cut in quickly. “Not a compliment.”
“Of course.”
But it absolutely felt like one.
By mid-afternoon, the office air conditioning decided to betray them.
At precisely 2:07 p.m., the entire floor turned into a beautifully decorated oven.
Phones started ringing.
Employees started fanning themselves.
Faye looked ready to murder someone.
“Why is it suddenly hotter than hell?” she asked.
Yoko checked her phone. “Building maintenance says the system crashed.”
“Unacceptable.”
“I’ll call them again.”
“You’ll do more than call,” Faye snapped. “Fix it.”
“Unless you’d like me to personally climb into the vents, I’m doing my best.”
Faye shot her a look.
Yoko shot one back.
War was apparently back on the schedule.
An hour later, the temperature had not improved.
Faye had removed her blazer.
Then rolled up her sleeves.
Then muttered something in Thai that sounded extremely unprofessional.
Yoko tried very hard not to notice how different her boss looked without the usual layers of armor.
More human.
More… distracting.
“This is ridiculous,” Faye said, pacing her office. “I can’t work like this.”
“You could try breathing,” Yoko offered.
“I am breathing.”
“Barely.”
Faye stopped and stared at her. “You enjoy irritating me, don’t you?”
Yoko pretended to think. “Maybe a little.”
“Brave answer.”
“Honest answer.”
For a moment, the tension between them wasn’t entirely unpleasant.
Then the phone rang again and ruined everything.
By 5:30 p.m., maintenance finally restored the air conditioning.
The office let out a collective sigh of relief.
Faye, however, looked exhausted.
“Cancel my last meeting,” she told Yoko quietly.
Yoko hesitated. “Are you feeling okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“You look tired.”
“I said I’m fine.”
There it was again — that wall slamming back into place.
Yoko softened her tone. “You’ve been running nonstop for days. Maybe you should go home early.”
Faye gave a dry laugh. “I don’t go home early.”
“Maybe you should try it. Revolutionary concept.”
“Don’t tell me how to live my life.”
“Someone clearly should.”
Faye opened her mouth to argue.
Then closed it.
An odd silence filled the room.
Finally she sighed. “You’re insufferable.”
“So I’ve been told.”
Another pause.
“Fine,” Faye said at last. “Cancel the meeting.”
Yoko smiled before she could stop herself.
As the office emptied out, Yoko prepared to leave.
She was almost at the elevator when Faye called her back.
“Yoko.”
“Yes?”
Faye hesitated — something she rarely did.
“About last night,” she said carefully.
“You represented the company well.”
Yoko blinked. “Is this a formal compliment?”
“Don’t make it strange.”
“Too late.”
A tiny flicker of amusement crossed Faye’s face.
Then she cleared her throat. “Goodnight."
“Goodnight, Madam Malhotra.”
Downstairs, Bangkok greeted Yoko with warm evening air and noisy traffic.
She should have felt relieved to escape.
Instead, she kept thinking about the way Faye had looked today — tired, human, almost vulnerable.
It bothered her.
Because bosses like Faye weren’t supposed to feel real.
They were supposed to stay safely in the category of people you complained about with coworkers.
Not people you worried about.
Yoko groaned.
“This is bad,” she muttered.
Upstairs, Faye sat alone in her office longer than necessary.
She stared at the contract Yoko had annotated — neat, precise, intelligent notes in the margins.
Annoyingly competent.
Annoyingly sharp.
Annoyingly… impressive.
Faye rubbed her temples.
The assistant was supposed to be temporary.
Another short-term hire she would eventually replace.
So why did the idea of Yoko leaving suddenly feel irritating?
She dismissed the thought immediately.
“I just need rest,” she told herself.
Nothing more.
Absolutely nothing more.
Still, as she finally shut off the lights and headed home, one unwelcome truth followed her into the Bangkok night:
Yoko Tran-Siripong was no longer just a problem.
She was becoming something far more complicated.
- Writer
