The Stranger Who Became My Boss

Chapter 5 : Trust

I always forgot that you existed only in my imagination.

Sometimes, when I looked at the man standing before me, I couldn't believe he was the same person I had met on that bridge—the one to whom I had given my pride.

Perhaps my pride had never meant anything to you.

But believe me...

It was all I had to give.

***

"Alright," I began, forcing myself to stay calm. "What you're looking at now is our current overtime request form. I've highlighted every section that Mr... I mean, Mr. Gio asked us to revise."

That was close.

I had almost called him Mister X in front of the entire company.

Lastri distributed printed copies of the new draft while I projected it onto the screen. As expected, puzzled expressions immediately spread across the room.

I smiled awkwardly.

"I know it looks different, but let's go through it together."

Everyone nodded and picked up their copies.

"As usual, you'll begin by filling in your name, the date, the day, and your overtime hours."

I waited until everyone finished.

"Done? Great. The next section is the job category. To make this easier, I'll use my own work as an example."

I typed into the form.

Job Category: Preparing Overtime Request Forms.

Laughter erupted across the room.

"Yes," I said with a grin. "I'm using the overtime form to explain... the overtime form."

Even Mr. Gio smiled faintly.

My heart skipped for a second.

No.

Focus, Namira.

"The next section is different from the old format."

I highlighted the new column.

"This is the Detail section."

"Instead of writing a short description, you'll explain exactly what you're planning to accomplish."

I typed another example.

Input 25 overtime request forms for November 2018, covering submissions from November 5 to November 20.

"This level of detail helps supervisors evaluate whether overtime is actually necessary."

Before I could continue, someone interrupted.

"So you're saying our overtime requests can be rejected now?"

It was Mr. Jefri, one of our senior photographers.

"Mr. Jefri," I replied politely, "we'll have a Q&A session afterward. Please write down your questions first so you won't forget them."

He frowned.

"But this doesn't make sense, Nam—"

"Mr. Jefri."

Mr. Gio's calm voice cut through the room.

"Please address her properly during this meeting."

The room fell silent.

"If you can't remain professional..."

He glanced toward the exit.

"...the door is right there."

Nobody spoke.

Mr. Jefri's face turned bright red, but he didn't argue.

My heart sank.

Great.

Now he probably hated me.

"Please continue, Namira."

I nodded gratefully.

"The final addition is the Result section."

I highlighted the column.

"This is where you'll record what was actually accomplished."

I typed another example.

Completed all 25 overtime request forms. Uploaded to the HR server and submitted to the HR Manager and General Manager.

"The purpose of this section," I explained, "is to show the outcome of your overtime. It helps demonstrate that the extra hours produced meaningful results."

"The last column is for additional remarks, if there's anything that doesn't fit into the other sections."

I let out a quiet breath.

Finally.

My presentation was almost over.

"That concludes the explanation."

"I'll now moderate the Q&A session."

"Mr. Gio will answer your questions."

I stepped aside and took my seat beside Lastri while Mr. Gio picked up the microphone.

Immediately...

Mr. Jefri raised his hand.

"I'll go first."

The room grew quiet.

"I understand the Detail section," he said, "but why do we need the Result section as well?"

He leaned back in his chair.

"I'm a photo editor. Suppose I work overtime editing photos for next week's magazine, but I don't finish in one night. The next day I continue the same task."

"Wouldn't that make it look like I'm repeating the same work?"

"Wouldn't my overtime request be rejected because it appears unproductive?"

Several people nodded.

Clearly...

They had been wondering the same thing.

Mr. Gio looked around the room.

"Any other questions?"

No one spoke.

"I see."

He nodded once.

"Then let me answer Mr. Jefri's question."

He turned toward Lastri.

"Lastri."

"My presentation mouse."

"Yes, Sir."

Lastri handed him the wireless presenter while displaying a blank overtime form on the projector.

Mr. Gio stood beside the screen and began typing.

"Let's use your example, Mr. Jefri."

He entered the first field.

Job Category: Editing Celebrity Photos.

"So far, this tells us almost nothing."

He moved to the Detail section.

"Now we specify the assignment."

He typed as he spoke.

Edit celebrity photos for the November 15 issue: replace the background, slim the arms at the celebrity's request, and retouch the cheeks and facial features.

The room remained completely silent.

Then he opened the Result section.

"If today's overtime only completes the background replacement and arm adjustments..."

His fingers continued across the keyboard.

Background replaced with a library setting. Arm size adjusted naturally using photo reconstruction techniques. Facial retouching remains incomplete and will continue tomorrow.

He turned back to the audience.

"Does everyone see the difference now?"

"This isn't about approving or rejecting overtime."

"It's about documenting progress."

"If tomorrow's form shows that the remaining facial edits were completed..."

"Then the work clearly continued."

"No reasonable manager would reject overtime supported by detailed, measurable progress."

Not a single person argued.

Even Mr. Jefri slowly nodded.

I stared at Mr. Gio in amazement.

He wasn't just making new rules.

He understood the work behind them.

And somehow...

That made me trust him a little more.

The meeting ended without another objection, and one by one everyone left the auditorium while Lastri and I stayed behind to collect the documents and shut down the projector.

"Nice job, Wang."

Ms. Ida walked over with a smile. "You explained everything really well. Next time I'm unavailable, you're presenting again."

I laughed awkwardly, but before I could thank her, another voice interrupted.

"Namira."

I turned around. Mr. Gio stood a few steps away, his expression as unreadable as always.

"The next time someone speaks to you disrespectfully during a meeting..." he said, looking straight at me, "...stop them immediately."

I blinked.

"You were leading the presentation. You shouldn't allow anyone to undermine your authority in front of the audience."

I opened my mouth, but he continued before I could respond.

"If you remain that passive in future meetings... I'll issue you a warning letter."

My jaw nearly dropped. Seriously? I had spent the last hour fighting my nerves, and this was what he had to say? Not "good presentation." Not "well done." A warning?

I glared at him. He met my gaze for a brief second before turning away and leaving the room without waiting for an answer.

What an infuriating man.

Ms. Ida chuckled beside me. "Take it easy, Wang. He's your boss. He trained me the same way." She wrapped an arm around my shoulder. "Now we're practically inseparable."

I frowned. "That's because you're weird."

She burst into laughter.

Around four o'clock, the three of us gathered in the second-floor pantry for our usual coffee break. Ms. Ida took a sip of her coffee before asking, "Las, did Mr. Gio major in graphic design?"

"No." Lastri shook her head. "He has a master's degree in Business. c*m laude. And he graduated early."

Ms. Ida and I nearly spat out our coffee.

"What?"

"Then how did he know so much about photo editing?" I asked.

Lastri shrugged. "He interned at an advertising agency before starting his career. Maybe he picked it up there."

I leaned back against my chair. That explained a lot. He hadn't invented that example during the meeting—he actually understood the editing process.

"No wonder," Ms. Ida muttered. "He's impressive."

Soon it was time to go home. As I walked downstairs carrying my bag, I ran into Mr. Rian from the Marketing Department—right on schedule. He smiled the moment he saw me.

"Wang. Let me drive you home."

I sighed inwardly. "Sir..." That single word was my polite way of saying please stop asking. Unfortunately, he never seemed to understand.

"Please?" he said hopefully. "I just want to drop you off."

I forced another smile. "Mr. Rian, I really—"

"Rian."

A familiar voice interrupted us. Mr. Gio stood a few steps behind me.

"We need to discuss the proposal you left on my desk."

Mr. Rian frowned. "I thought we were doing that tomorrow."

"I changed my mind," Mr. Gio answered calmly. "My office. Now."

Without another word, he headed back upstairs. Mr. Rian let out a helpless sigh before chasing after him. "Coming, Boss!"

I watched him disappear before finally letting out the breath I'd been holding. Perfect timing. For all his sharp words, Mr. Gio had rescued me again.

I hurried back to my desk. Ms. Ida was already waiting with her handbag.

"Wang. Lastri says she's treating us to meatballs. Coming?"

I grinned. "If it's free..."

"Of course."

A few minutes later, the three of us climbed into Lastri's car. As usual, I was the one behind the wheel.

The meatball stall wasn't far from the office, and since it wasn't crowded yet, our bowls arrived quickly. We had barely taken a few bites when Lastri suddenly lowered her voice.

"Hey. Did you know Mr. Gio is single?"

Ms. Ida looked up in surprise. "Seriously?"

"That's what his résumé says." Lastri grinned. "Isn't that strange? Handsome, rich, smart... you'd think women would be lining up for him."

"Maybe he's just too busy with work," Ms. Ida said.

I stirred my soup absentmindedly. "Wait... doesn't he wear a ring on his left ring finger?"

Lastri frowned. "Really? I've never noticed."

Ms. Ida turned to me with narrowed eyes. "Hold on. How did you notice something that specific?"

Oops.

Think, Namira. Think.

"I... I bring him coffee every morning." I shrugged as casually as I could. "Since he keeps scolding me, I kind of ended up staring at his hand."

That seemed believable enough. Lastri nodded. "I'll check tomorrow. Maybe he's engaged. Being single doesn't necessarily mean he's available."

I quietly smiled. Exactly. Not being married didn't always mean someone belonged to no one. Just like... I had no right to expect the man I'd waited for all these years to still be alone.

"Nam!" Ms. Ida waved a hand in front of my face. "Stop daydreaming."

I blinked. "Huh?"

"You've been zoning out."

I forced a laugh. "Oh... sorry."

Trying to change the subject, I turned to Lastri. "Did Mr. Gio intern somewhere around Sudirman?"

She looked surprised. "Yeah. How did you know?"

"I... I checked his résumé."

Another lie. In reality, I hadn't even opened the personnel database yet.

Lastri continued chatting without suspecting anything. "You know, he's actually a nice person. His mouth can be sharp... but only toward certain people."

I frowned. "What do you mean?"

"You." She pointed at me. "Mr. Jefri. Some people in Marketing who keep abusing sponsor vouchers. He only gets tough with employees who refuse to follow the rules."

I looked at Ms. Ida. She nodded immediately. "She's right."

I sighed. "So... I'm the stubborn one?"

Both of them answered at the exact same time. "Yes."

I couldn't even argue. Maybe they were right. Ever since Mr. Gio had arrived, I'd been so nervous about him recognizing me that I kept making mistake after mistake. Every conversation felt awkward. Every meeting made me panic. Every time he looked at me... my heart refused to behave.

Perhaps the problem had never been him. It had always been me.

Maybe it was finally time to let go of that humiliating memory from ten years ago. Maybe then... I could stand in front of Mister X without fear.