I DONT TAKE ORDERS
589 Words
I leaned back slowly, arms crossing, setting a shield between us.
“You reviewed my entire concept and reduced it to ‘safe’?”
“I reviewed your concept,” he said, stepping closer now, “and recognised that you held back.”
“I don’t hold back.”
“You do when something matters.”
My chest tightened. The words landed harder than they should have.
“This is business,” I said, sharper now. “Not a psychological evaluation.”
“Everything is psychological,” he replied. “Especially designed.”
I stood.
Not abruptly.
But deliberately.
"If you wanted something specific, you should have said so before I built the whole framework."
“I did.”
I frowned. “No, you didn’t.”
“I said I didn’t want delays,” he replied. “That includes hesitation.”
That
A harsh laugh nearly escaped me; I tamped it down, lips pressed thin.
“You’re conflating speed with clarity.”
“And you’re hiding behind perfection,” he shot back.
Silence.
Tight.
Controlled.
Volatile.
“You want bold?” I said, my voice lower.
“Yes.”
“You want presence?”
“Yes.”
“You want something that dominates the room the second someone walks in?”
His gaze didn’t waver.
“That’s exactly what I want.”
I nodded once.
“Then don’t mistake restraint for weakness.”
“I don’t,” he said.
A beat.
“I recognise it as control.”
That stopped my heartbeat skipping once, pulse in my throat.
Just for a second.
Then
“But control isn’t the same as impact,” he added.
There it was again.
That push.
That challenge.
with undertones.
I turned back to the screen, pulling up an alternate layout I hadn’t intended to present.
“Fine,” I said. “Let’s talk about impact.”
I adjusted the structure lines sharper, contrast higher, and the flow more aggressive.
“This shifts the entry point,” I explained. “Forces engagement instead of inviting it.”
He watched closely now.
Engaged.
Interested.
“And the materials?” he asked.
“Stronger contrast,” I replied. “Less warmth. More authority.”
A slow nod.
“Better.”
I glanced at him.
“Not your final choice?"
“No,” he agreed. “But it’s closer to what I need.”
Closer.
Not enough.
Of course not.
The meeting continued like that.
Back and forth.
Push.
Pull.
Neither of us was yielding fully.
By the time we were done, the room felt different.
The room buzzed with lingering heat. Charged.
Not hostile.
But far from neutral.
I gathered my things, precise, controlled.
“We’ll revise based on this direction,” I said.
“You will,” he corrected.
I paused.
Slowly looked up.
“I don’t take orders, Xavier.”
A small, almost imperceptible smile touched his mouth.
I stepped closer.
Not backing down.
"Let's be clear," I said quietly. "You hired me for a reason."
“I did.”
“Then trust the process.”
“I trust results,” he replied.
Silence stretched between us.
Tight.
Unresolved.
“A date for the next review will be relayed to you by my assistant,” I said finally.
“As you wish,” he replied.
I nodded once.
Then turned and walked out.
By the time I got back to my office, tension pooled beneath my skin.
The shift.
Not subtle anymore.
Not quiet.
Something had been pushed.
And it hadn’t settled.
My phone buzzed.
- Writer
