My Riley

Chapter Fourteen — Riley

Seventy percent.

Seventy percent of the headquarters was done.

I stared at the progress report on my tablet and smiled.

Seventy percent.

That number felt good.

Really good.

For months, I had watched this building slowly transform from an empty shell into something that finally looked alive.

Now, seventy percent of it was decorated, furnished, and beginning to look like the vision I had carried in my head from the very beginning.

The lobby was almost completely finished.

The reception area was done.

The waiting area was done.

Several executive offices were finished.

Most of the conference rooms were coming together beautifully.

The lighting was finally being installed.

The furniture was in place.

The decorative pieces were where they belonged.

And the remaining thirty percent?

We were working on it.

Hard.

I was excited.

Tired.

But excited.

I looked around the waiting area where I was sitting and smiled.

It was one of my favorite spaces in the building.

Warm without being too casual.

Elegant without feeling cold.

There were comfortable chairs, greenery, soft lighting, and natural textures throughout the space.

It finally looked like the picture I had drawn months ago.

I had bought lunch for everyone today.

My team.

The workers.

The installers.

The construction crew.

Everyone.

They had been working hard, and I didn’t believe in watching people work all day without making sure they had eaten.

I had bought an extra meal for myself.

A burger wrap.

I sat alone in one of the chairs, eating while checking some updates on my phone.

I had just taken another bite when I heard footsteps.

I looked up.

And stopped.

Vincent.

I blinked.

What was he doing here?

We didn’t have a meeting today.

There was no appointment.

Nothing had been scheduled.

He was simply standing there in the middle of the waiting area, looking around.

I quickly swallowed.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Stanley.”

His eyes moved toward me.

“Good afternoon.”

I smiled.

“What are you doing here?”

He slipped his hands into his pockets.

“I was in the area.”

“Oh.”

“I had a meeting nearby.”

“That makes sense.”

He looked around.

“How much progress?”

“Seventy percent.”

Something shifted in his expression.

“Seventy?”

I nodded proudly.

“Yes.”

“That much already?”

“Yes.”

I picked up my tablet.

“We’ve been moving quickly since all the shipments arrived.”

He looked around again.

I could tell he was taking everything in.

Then I remembered the extra meal beside me.

I picked it up.

“I bought an extra one.”

He looked at the wrapped food.

“You want it?”

He shook his head.

“No, thank you.”

“Please.”

“I’m fine.”

“I just bought another one.”

I held it toward him.

“You can have it.”

He looked at me for a moment.

Then at the food.

Then back at me.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

He finally took it.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

I smiled and went back to my own food.

I honestly didn’t expect him to eat it.

I assumed he would probably leave it sitting beside him.

But he opened it.

And started eating.

I looked at him for a second.

Then smiled to myself.

We sat together in the waiting area.

Eating lunch.

It felt strangely normal.

We talked about the project.

Nothing personal.

Nothing complicated.

Just work.

I showed him the progress on the executive floor.

We discussed the remaining furniture.

The final lighting installations.

The schedule.

The last thirty percent.

“I think we can finish ahead of the original schedule,” I told him.

He nodded.

“That would be good.”

“We’re moving faster now that we have everything.”

“What about the remaining fixtures?”

“Almost everything is installed. There are just a few finishing details.”

He nodded again.

“You’ve done well.”

I smiled.

“Thank you.”

I was about to show him something on my tablet when—

A sudden sound exploded somewhere behind us.

A drill.

Or machinery.

Something sharp and incredibly loud.

The sound cut straight through me.

Pain.

Immediate pain.

It wasn’t just loud.

It was piercing.

Sharp.

Like something had been driven directly into my ear.

I gasped.

My hand flew to the side of my head.

“Ah!”

I screamed before I could stop myself.

The tablet slipped from my hand.

My entire body tensed.

The sound continued for only a few seconds, but those seconds felt endless.

“Riley?”

Vincent’s voice sounded distant.

I couldn’t focus.

My ear hurt.

Badly.

I squeezed my eyes shut.

“Riley!”

The drilling finally stopped.

I took a shaky breath.

My heart was beating quickly.

My hand remained pressed against my ear.

Vincent was standing now.

“What happened?”

I tried to answer.

“I’m okay.”

My voice sounded weak even to me.

“You’re not okay.”

“I am.”

I reached toward my hearing aid.

My fingers weren’t steady.

The pain was still there.

I turned the volume down first.

Then I carefully removed the hearing aid from my ear.

The difference was immediate.

The world became quieter.

Not silent.

But quieter.

I held the hearing aid in my hand.

Vincent stared at me.

“Is it your ear?”

I nodded.

“The sound.”

He frowned.

“What sound?”

“The drilling.”

His expression changed.

“I thought you were used to the construction noise.”

“So am I.”

I swallowed.

“But that one was too sharp.”

He looked at my hand.

“You’re in pain.”

“A little.”

“Riley.”

I looked at him.

“We need to go to the hospital.”

I immediately shook my head.

“No, it’s okay.”

“You just screamed.”

“I know.”

“And you’re holding your ear.”

“I know.”

“Then we’re going.”

I opened my mouth.

Normally, I would argue.

Normally, I would tell him I had work to do.

That the workers needed me.

That seventy percent didn’t happen by itself.

That there were still things to inspect.

But another wave of pain moved through my ear.

I winced.

I stopped arguing.

“Okay.”

Vincent picked up my tablet.

Then he looked toward the construction area.

“Who is supervising this section?”

“My secretary.”

“I’ll speak to her.”

“Don’t—”

He looked at me.

I stopped.

He was already serious.

More serious than usual.

“Your health comes first.”

I stared at him.

For a moment, I didn’t know what to say.

He walked toward the exit.

I followed.

I still had my hearing aid in my hand.

As we walked, I kept one hand near my ear.

The pain was slowly becoming less intense, but it hadn’t disappeared.

Vincent noticed.

“Does it still hurt?”

“Yes.”

“How badly?”

I thought about it.

“It’s manageable.”

“That isn’t what I asked.”

I looked at him.

He was watching me closely.

I sighed.

“Six.”

His jaw tightened.

“Six out of ten?”

“Yes.”

He nodded once.

“Then we’re going.”

I didn’t argue again.

We walked toward his car.

And for some reason, as I followed him, one thought kept repeating in my mind.

I had never seen Vincent look that worried about me before.

Not like this.

Not over me.

And I didn’t know what to make of it.

I only knew that my ear still hurt.

And for the first time since I had started working on the headquarters, the project wasn’t the thing on my mind.

It was Vincent.

And the way he had immediately stopped everything when he saw me in pain.