Episode Six
1377 Words
Chapter 6
The Girl He Forgave
“Never assume file order,” I said. “Check the timestamp and version number.”
Dakota lowered her head.
“I’m sorry. I’ll redo it now.”
Before I could respond, Charles’s office door opened.
He stepped out.
“Is the guest list ready?”
Dakota froze.
I picked up the incorrect version and turned it over.
“There was a version issue. I’m correcting it.”
Charles’s gaze moved from me to Dakota.
Dakota clutched the edge of the folder.
“It was my mistake, Mr Yale. I’m sorry.”
The office went still again.
I could almost feel Shane holding his breath.
Charles looked at the paper in my hand.
Then at Dakota.
His brows drew together slightly, but his voice remained calm.
“Do you know what you did wrong?”
Dakota nodded quickly.
“I used the first file I saw without checking the timestamp.”
“Then remember it.”
“Yes.”
Charles glanced at me.
“Have her redo it. Bring it in when it’s correct.”
That was all.
No sharp reprimand.
No icy silence.
No sentence designed to peel skin from bone.
Dakota stared at him, stunned.
Charles seemed to notice.
His expression eased a little.
“First mistakes are for learning,” he said.
Then he returned to his office.
The door closed.
No one moved.
After a long moment, Shane slowly turned to me.
His eyes were round.
I lowered my gaze to the printout.
“Dakota,” I said evenly, “open the shared drive.”
She startled.
“Yes.”
Her voice sounded unsteady.
I taught her how to locate the correct file.
She followed each step carefully this time, biting her lower lip in concentration. When the printer began humming again, she looked at me with gratitude so open it was almost painful.
“Thank you, Mia.”
“You don’t have to thank me for training you.”
“I do,” she said softly. “I know I’m causing trouble.”
“You’re learning.”
The words sounded familiar.
Too familiar.
By noon, the corrected guest list was finally ready.
Dakota held it like a fragile offering.
“Should I bring it in?”
I looked at her.
Usually, no new assistant would be allowed to deliver anything directly to Charles on the first day. Not because the task was difficult, but because Charles’s office had a way of making people forget their own names.
But Charles had said to have her familiar with the guest list by afternoon.
And perhaps a small, bitter part of me wanted to know.
“Go ahead,” I said. “Knock twice. Wait for him to answer. Place it on the left side of his desk, not the right.”
Dakota nodded nervously.
She walked to his door, knocked twice, and went in after his voice sounded.
The door did not close fully behind her.
Through the small gap, I heard her speak.
“Mr Yale, the corrected guest list.”
A pause.
Then Charles’s voice.
“Here.”
Another pause.
“No, not there. The left.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine.”
His voice was lower than usual.
Not warm, exactly.
But careful.
Dakota said something too softly for me to hear.
Then Charles gave a quiet laugh.
A real one.
Very short.
Very restrained.
But real.
My fingers stopped on the keyboard.
Across from me, Shane also stopped pretending to work.
Neither of us looked at the other.
A moment later, Dakota came out.
Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes were bright.
“He said I did better this time,” she whispered.
“That’s good.”
I heard my own voice and was pleased by how normal it sounded.
Dakota returned to her desk with the guest list instructions clutched against her chest. For the rest of the afternoon, she worked with a focus I could not fault.
She made three more mistakes.
She sent an internal email without the attachment.
She addressed Director Grayson as “Mr Greyson”.
She accidentally booked Charles’s afternoon call in the wrong meeting room.
Each time, she apologised with wide, frightened eyes.
Each time, Charles’s response was unexpectedly mild.
“Correct it.”
“Check before sending next time.”
“Ask Mia if you’re unsure.”
Once, when Director Lewis complained loudly that the new assistant had misdirected him, Charles happened to walk past.
Lewis immediately straightened.
Charles looked from him to Dakota, whose face had turned red.
“What happened?”
Lewis gave an awkward laugh.
“Nothing serious. Ms Lane sent me to the wrong room.”
Dakota lowered her head.
“I’m sorry.”
Charles’s expression cooled.
“If it’s not serious, Director Lewis, don’t raise your voice on my floor.”
Lewis’s smile stiffened.
“Of course, Mr Yale.”
Charles turned to Dakota.
“Next time, check the room number.”
“Yes, Mr Yale.”
His gaze stayed on her for another second.
Then he added, “Don’t panic over small mistakes.”
Dakota looked up.
Something bright moved across her face.
“All right.”
Charles walked away.
Behind my desk, I sat very still.
Years ago, on my third week beside Charles, I had mislabelled a contract appendix.
No money had been lost. No client had seen it. I had corrected it within five minutes.
Charles had stood in front of me with the file in his hand and said coldly, “If you can’t even check a title, how can I trust you with anything important?”
For the next month, I had checked every document until the words blurred.
Back then, I thought he was teaching me to be better.
Perhaps he was.
But now, watching Dakota stand there with Charles’s protection still wrapped around her like a borrowed coat, I suddenly wondered whether kindness had always been available.
Just not for me.
At six, Dakota packed her things carefully.
Before leaving, she bowed slightly to me.
“Mia, thank you for today. I know I made a lot of mistakes, but I’ll work harder tomorrow.”
I smiled.
“You did fine for a first day.”
Her face lit up.
“Really?”
“Yes.”
She hesitated, then looked towards Charles’s closed office.
“Mr Yale is different from what I expected.”
My hands paused over the keyboard.
“How so?”
“Everyone said he was terrifying.” She smiled shyly. “But I think he’s actually quite kind.”
For a moment, I did not know what expression I should make.
Then I gave a small laugh.
“Maybe.”
Dakota waved goodbye and left.
The office slowly emptied.
Shane lingered by my desk, his expression unusually cautious.
“Mia.”
“Go home, Shane.”
“Are you…”
“I’m fine.”
He clearly did not believe me, but he was smart enough not to say so.
After he left, the president’s office floor became quiet.
Only Charles’s office light remained on.
At seven ten, his door opened.
He stepped out and saw me still at my desk.
“Why haven’t you left?”
“I’m finishing the revised banquet seating plan.”
“Dakota left?”
“Yes.”
Charles looked towards the empty desk beside mine.
His gaze rested there for a moment.
Then he said, “She learns quickly.”
I looked at the screen.
“She does.”
“She’s nervous. Be patient with her.”
There it was again.
That strange, unfamiliar softness.
I smiled.
“Of course, Mr Charles.”
Charles looked at me.
For a moment, I thought he might say something else.
But his phone rang.
He glanced at the caller ID and answered.
“Yes.”
His voice was cold again.
Businesslike.
Familiar.
I lowered my eyes and returned to the seating plan.
On the screen, Dakota Lane’s name still sat in the HR onboarding email.
Newly appointed assistant to the president’s office.
I moved the email into the archive folder.
Then I opened tomorrow’s schedule and began making room for her training.
After all, that was what I was good at.
Making room.
- Writer
