The Private Tutorial

Chloe Summers woke up at 5:45 every morning without needing an alarm. Her small apartment was on the third floor of an old building where the lift broke down at least twice a week. It was just one bedroom, a tiny kitchen, and a bathroom that smelled faintly of lemon cleaner because she scrubbed it every Sunday. The rent took almost half her salary, but it was hers, and that's what matters to her. She pulled on a plain white cotton blouse, a grey skirt that fell just below her knees, and flat black shoes. No jewelry except a tiny silver stud in each ear, no makeup except a little lip balm. She ate two slices of toast and a boiled egg, drank warm water, and packed the same lunch she brought most days: rice, fried fish, and a small orange. Chloe didn’t have many friends. The people she’d known in college had moved away or started hanging out in groups that felt too loud, too much. She texted her mom once every two days, visited her younger sister whenever she had a long weekend, but that was it. Most evenings after work, she sat on her narrow couch, watched old movies, or read articles about data analysis. And sometimes, when the lights were low and the apartment was completely quiet, she let her mind wander. She never dated. Never even held hands with anyone. When her cousin tried to set her up with a friend last year, Chloe’s face got so hot she could barely speak, and she made up an excuse to leave before the guy even arrived. “You’re too shy for your own good,” her mom said over the phone last month. “You should get out more. Meet people.” “I like it quiet,” Chloe had answered, twisting the edge of her skirt. “It’s easier that way.” It was easier, yes. But some nights, she lay in bed and wondered what it would be like to have someone to talk to, someone who didn’t make her feel like she had to hide half of who she was. Those thoughts always drifted to the same face, the same voice she’d only heard from far away. Then she’d shake her head and tell herself to stop being stupid. He was the CEO. He didn’t even know she existed. At 7:30, she locked her door and walked ten minutes to the bus stop. By 8:15, she was at the front desk of Montserrat Corporation. The office was huge, shiny, and always cold. Glass walls everywhere, so you never quite felt like you were alone. Chloe worked in the junior analyst team, tucked in the far corner of the fifth floor. Her desk was neat... There are no photos, no sticky notes stuck to the monitor, just her laptop, a notebook, and a pen holder. Most people barely noticed her. When someone needed a report done fast, or a spreadsheet fixed at the last minute, they called her name. Once she handed it over, they forgot about her again. That was fine with her. She liked being invisible. “Morning, Chloe,” said Mark, who sat two desks away. He was the only one who said hello every day. “Morning,” she answered softly, turning on her laptop. By 10 AM, her inbox was already full. She pulled up the sales data from last quarter, typed in formulas, and checked every number three times. She hated making mistakes. In this company, mistakes got you noticed, but not in a good way. At 11, her team lead Sarah walked over, holding a stack of papers. “Chloe, these files need to be cross-referenced with the regional survey results by tomorrow noon,” Sarah said, dropping them on the corner of her desk. “And make sure the formatting matches the new template. Mr. Montserrat mentioned he’s going through all the analyst reports this week. He won’t accept anything messy.” Chloe nodded. “I’ll get it done right.” Sarah walked away without another word. Chloe stared at the name... And it sent a familiar flutter on her chest. She’d seen him in person maybe a dozen times in the eight months she’d worked there. Once, he’d walked through the floor when she was carrying a box of old files. Everyone had stopped talking. He was tall, broad-shouldered, with dark hair that was always perfectly styled. His suit looked expensive enough to pay her rent for a year. When he spoke, his voice was deep, and everyone listened like their jobs depended on it because they probably did. “Is he really that scary?” she’d asked Mark once, quiet enough that no one else could hear. Mark shrugged. “He’s fair, but he doesn’t tolerate lazy work. Last month he fired a senior manager for turning in a report full of typos. Just like that.” He snapped his fingers. “But hey, he’s never yelled at you, right? Because you never mess up.” Chloe went back to her work. But her mind kept drifting. She wondered what his office looked like behind those big wooden doors on the top floor. She wondered if he ever got tired of being perfect, or if he ever just wanted to sit somewhere quiet and not have everyone watching him. Around 1 PM, she went to the break room to heat up her lunch. A group of senior staff were standing by the microwave, talking loudly. “Did you see him this morning?” one woman said. “He was in the lobby, and everyone was running around like headless chickens.” “Of course he’s stressed,” another man said. “We’re closing the biggest deal this year. One wrong move and everything falls apart.” Chloe waited by the door, hoping no one would notice her. Then the conversation shifted. “Have you seen the new interns? All dressed up like they’re going to a party instead of work. You think any of them have a chance with him?” “Please. Julian Montserrat doesn’t date people from the office. He doesn’t date anyone, from what I’ve heard. Too busy running the company.” “Or maybe he just hasn’t found anyone good enough yet.” Chloe stepped back, her face warm. She slipped out before anyone turned around, and ate her lunch sitting on a bench near the emergency exit. The afternoon passed slowly. She finished the cross-referencing, fixed the formatting, and checked every single number again. When she looked at the clock, it was already 5:30. Most people had packed up and left. Just as she was saving the file, Sarah came rushing back over, looking harried. “Chloe, I’m so sorry,” Sarah said, breathless. “The deadline got moved up. All of this needs to be on his desk by 9 AM tomorrow. And the client added three more spreadsheets. You have to finish all of it tonight.” Chloe stared at the new files popping up on her screen. “Tonight? But the building closes at 7.” “I know, I know. I tried to tell them, but HR said it’s approved. You can stay late. The security team will leave the lights on this floor. I have to go pick up my kid from daycare... Please, I owe you one.” Before Chloe could say anything, Sarah was gone. She looked at the pile of work. It would take at least four hours, maybe five. She thought about her empty apartment, the half-washed dishes in the sink, the warm dinner she’d planned to make. Then she sighed and pulled her chair closer to the desk. “Okay,” she whispered to herself. “I can do this.” By 7:30, the floor was almost completely dark. Only the lights over her cubicle and a few exit signs were on. The air felt cooler, and the hum of the air conditioner was the only sound. She worked until her eyes burned. At 9:15, she leaned back, rubbed her face, and realized how tense her shoulders were. Her phone was in her bag. She pulled it out, opened the gallery, and looked at a blurry photo someone had posted on the company intranet... Julian Montserrat speaking at a conference. She didn’t know why she saved it. She told herself it was just because he was the face of the company. But when she looked at him, her chest felt tight in a way that was both scary and nice. She knew it was stupid. She knew she was just one of hundreds of employees. But in the quiet, with no one around to see or judge, she let herself think about it. What if he wasn’t so scary? What if he looked at her and didn’t just see another worker? What if he noticed how much effort she put in, how careful she was? Her thoughts drifted further, wilder than she’d ever let them go before. She thought about what it would feel like to be close to him. To have him look at her like she was the only person in the room. To have him touch her...