chapter six:office games
996 Words
Zara stood in the gleaming hallway of Cole Enterprises, clutching her ID card like a lifeline. It felt heavier than it looked. Maybe because it had Xavier’s name engraved at the bottom. Why did he personally sign it? Why did he hire her? And most importantly — why did her legs turn to jelly every time he stared at her with those iceberg eyes?
She took a deep breath and pushed open the glass doors to the executive floor. The air conditioning blasted like it was set to "preserve billionaires," and the vibe was just as cold.
Gabriella was already standing behind the front desk, sharp in her all-black ensemble, like a crow waiting to peck the eyes out of any unqualified intruder. Her lips curled into a tight smile when she spotted Zara.
"You're five minutes early," she said, voice sweet as arsenic.
Zara smiled tightly. "I'll try harder to be ten minutes early tomorrow."
Gabriella blinked. “Cute. That was sarcasm, in case you were wondering.”
“I got it,” Zara replied. “Thanks though. I’ll put it in the ‘Things Gabriella Hates’ file — it’s getting thick.”
Gabriella’s eyes narrowed, but before she could respond, Xavier’s office door clicked open. His tall frame stepped out, eyes scanning the room briefly before settling on Zara.
“Inside,” he said. No greeting. No smile. Just ice.
Zara followed him, ignoring the death glare Gabriella shot her. The office was ridiculous — modern, sleek, and probably worth more than her entire street. Xavier walked behind his desk and gestured to a chair across from him.
“Sit.”
Zara did, trying not to fidget. Xavier didn’t sit immediately. He poured himself a glass of water — no ice — and turned to face her.
“You’ve made an impression.”
“I didn’t mean to spill—”
“Not just that,” he interrupted. “The staff talks. Gabriella, especially.”
Of course she does.
“She doesn’t like me,” Zara said bluntly.
“She doesn’t like anyone,” Xavier said, sipping the water. “But she’s efficient.”
“And me?”
He studied her. "Still to be determined."
---
Hours passed with emails, spreadsheets, and Zara googling terms like “Q4 projections” and “what the hell is a revenue stream?” Gabriella dropped tasks with a smug expression, daring Zara to drown. Zara responded with stubborn resilience. If she couldn’t understand something, she stayed late to figure it out. If Gabriella threw shade, Zara threw back sarcastic sunshine.
At lunch, she stepped outside to call Tasha.
"Girl, how’s corporate hell?" Tasha answered.
"Imagine being dropped into a pool of sharks but you're wearing glitter lip gloss and no armor."
Tasha cackled. "Sounds glamorous."
Zara leaned against the stone wall of the building. "Gabriella wants to eat me alive. And Xavier is… weird. Sometimes I think he’s staring through me, not at me. Like he’s solving a puzzle."
"Or he's trying not to admit he finds you cute," Tasha teased.
Zara laughed. "Please. If cold shoulders were a person, it’d be him. I’m basically office wallpaper."
"Expensive wallpaper," Tasha said. "You’re in the damn building, Z. You belong there. Don’t let them psych you out."
"Thanks," Zara whispered, touched. "You always make me feel like I can do anything."
"That's because you can."
---
Back inside, Gabriella was waiting like a villain in a telenovela.
"Mr. Cole would like you to join him for a meeting in the boardroom. Now."
Zara blinked. "Me?"
"Yes. Try not to trip on your way in."
Zara followed her, head high. The boardroom was a massive glass box with a table long enough to host a UN summit. Xavier sat at the head, his fingers steepled.
"Sit."
There were already several executives in suits, most of whom gave her confused glances. Zara recognized one man — Mr. Lin, the CFO — who'd side-eyed her in the elevator last week.
"This is Zara Ibrahim," Xavier announced. "She’ll be joining these meetings moving forward."
Murmurs.
“On what capacity?” Mr. Lin asked.
“Observation. Insights,” Xavier replied. “She has a perspective I value.”
Zara's ears burned. What perspective? The broke one?
Still, she took notes like her life depended on it. Every term she didn’t know went into a mental list she’d Google later. Xavier didn’t speak to her again directly, but once — just once — she caught him watching her when she wasn’t looking. Not judgmentally. Just… observing.
When the meeting ended, she moved to leave, but Xavier spoke without looking up:
"Stay."
She paused.
Once everyone was gone, he leaned back.
“You held your own.”
Zara arched a brow. “By staying silent and pretending I knew what was happening?”
His lips quirked — not quite a smile, but something. "That's half of corporate life."
“I’ll study harder,” she said. “Next time I’ll pretend smarter.”
“You don’t need to pretend,” he said quietly. “Just don’t give up.”
Her heart did a weird little flip.
“Was that… encouragement?” she teased.
“Don’t get used to it.”
“Too late.”
---
That evening, as Zara packed up her things, Gabriella cornered her.
“You think you’re special,” she said, voice low and cutting. “But girls like you come and go. He gets bored quickly.”
Zara tilted her head. “Are you warning me or jealous?”
Gabriella’s eyes flashed. "He’s not who you think he is."
Zara walked away without replying.
But the words stayed with her.
That night, she stared at the ceiling in her tiny room, Xavier’s voice echoing in her head.
“Just don’t give up.”
And Gabriella’s too.
“He’s not who you think he is.”
Which one was telling the truth?
She didn’t know.
But she was going to find out.
---
- Writer
