The next morning, I woke up feeling like I’d barely gotten any rest. My mind had been running in circles all night—replaying my conversation with Claire, the way her eyes lingered on me, the way she called me sweetheart.
I shook my head, forcing the thoughts away. It didn’t mean anything. Don’t overthink it.
After getting ready, I grabbed a quick breakfast—just a piece of toast since I was running late—then hurried out to catch a cab to the office.
By the time I arrived, the place was already alive with its usual morning energy. People moved in and out, coffee cups in hand, chatting about deadlines, projects, and the latest workplace gossip.
I sank into my chair, letting out a deep breath before opening my laptop. The workload hadn’t changed, but something felt different. Maybe because today was the deadline—the day I had to confirm my transfer.
By lunchtime, I was already drained. The weight of my decision, combined with the usual workload, had left me feeling restless. I shut my laptop, stretching my arms before reaching for my drink—a fresh citrus cooler I grabbed from the office pantry earlier. The tangy sweetness refreshed me instantly, but it didn’t do much to clear my mind.
Just as I was about to take another sip, a familiar presence appeared at my desk.
"Come with me."
I looked up to see Claire standing there, arms crossed, her usual unreadable expression in place.
"Where?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.
"Lunch. My treat."
I hesitated. "I was just going to—"
"No excuses." She tapped her wrist, signalling time was running out for me to decide.
I sighed. "Fine."
Claire turned on her heel, and I followed.
We ended up at a rooftop restaurant not far from the office—a place I had never visited before. The open-air setting offered a stunning view of the city, and the cool breeze made the midday heat more bearable.
As we settled into our seats, I glanced at the menu, already knowing what I wanted. "A berry smoothie and a grilled chicken salad, please."
Claire arched an eyebrow but didn’t comment. She placed her own order before leaning back in her chair, her gaze fixed on me.
"You always go for the healthiest option?" she asked.
I shrugged. "Not really. Just in the mood for something fresh today."
She hummed in response. "So. About earlier—"
"Mrs. Claire," I interrupted, giving her a pointed look. "Lunch. Not work." I added a small, playful expression to soften my words.
Her lips twitched slightly. "Right."
For a moment, we sat in comfortable silence, waiting for our food. It wasn’t until our drinks arrived—her with a lemon-infused iced tea and me with my smoothie—that she spoke again.
"But why did you speak informally with me? Did you forget who I am?"
"Oh... I’m sorry," I said quickly.
She remained silent, watching me with an unreadable expression.
Clearing my throat, I changed the subject. "So, when should I start working with you? And I’d like to review the offer letter too."
"Good choice," she replied. Then, pulling out her phone from her handbag, she tapped a few times before sending a file.
Ding! A notification popped up on my phone. New message from ‘Mrs. Claire Office’.
I unlocked my phone and opened the file. As I skimmed through the document, I noted the key details—position, responsibilities, salary, and contract terms. Everything seemed standard, but one line made me pause.
"Direct report to Claire Linwood-Anders."
I glanced up. "So, I’ll be working directly under you… but I still don’t understand what exactly I’m supposed to do."
Claire remained silent, her expression unreadable.
I exhaled, tapping a finger against the screen. "The job description is way too vague—'Personal assistant to Claire Linwood-Anders: follow any order of the chief.' If you told me to jump off this rooftop, would I have to do it?"
Her lips twitched slightly, as if amused, but she didn’t smile. Instead, she took a slow sip of her tea before setting the glass down.
"Only if you trust that I’d catch you," she said, her tone impossibly calm.
I fell silent, my brows knitting together as I processed her words.
"Like I said, go everywhere I go. Like right now—lunch with me, dinner with me," she continued smoothly.
I blinked. "That sounds like we’re dating," I mumbled under my breath.
Claire didn’t even flinch. "If that’s what it sounds like to you, then fine. As long as you accept the offer."
I frowned, unsure if she was joking or completely serious.
She sighed, setting her fork down. "I’m not cruel, Mae. I’m just busy. Meetings with VIPs, clients, events—there’s always something. I need someone to accompany me, take notes, assist me when I’m out. Especially with my medication."
My eyes snapped up. "Medication?"
Claire’s expression didn’t change. "Evelyn will provide it to you later."
I hesitated. "O-kay…"
"What about my current job? I have a lot to manage," I said, feeling worried.
"Don't worry, I've already asked Aaron to handle the interviews and hiring. The new team will take over your tasks soon," Claire assured me.
"Oh… okay," I murmured, a twinge of guilt settling in.
.
.
.
As soon as I finished my lunch with Claire, my phone buzzed with a new message.
Conor (Mr. Leo): Mae, Conor here. Come to Mr. Leo's office once you finish your lunch with Claire. Don’t tell her I asked you to come.
My heartbeat stuttered at the last part. Don’t tell her?
Why the secrecy?
I stole a glance at Claire, who was casually checking her phone, completely unaware. Swallowing the unease creeping up my spine, I nodded to myself.
"Thanks for lunch," I said as I stood up.
Claire glanced up, her expression unreadable. "See you back at the office."
I gave a small nod before heading out.
.
.
.
Minutes later, I arrived at Mr. Leo’s office. Conor was already waiting outside, arms crossed as he leaned against the wall.
"You made it," he said, pushing the door open for me.
Inside, Mr. Leo sat behind his desk, his usual calm yet authoritative presence filling the space. He gestured for me to take a seat.
"Mae," he started, leaning forward slightly, "I wanted to discuss your role with Claire in more detail."
I straightened, listening intently.
He exhaled, choosing his words carefully. "Claire is… difficult. She skips meals—lunch, dinner—especially when she’s overwhelmed with work. And most importantly, she neglects her medication."
I frowned slightly. "Medication? May I ask what for?"
Leo’s expression darkened slightly, but his voice remained steady. "She lost her younger sister to depression years ago. Since then, she’s struggled with her own health, both physically and mentally."
I felt a pang in my chest. Claire never mentioned anything like that.
"She hides a lot, Mae," he continued. "She doesn’t like being known, which is why she keeps her role as Co-CEO under wraps. She runs more than most people realize. The pressure is immense, and she refuses to let people see when she’s unwell."
I took a moment to process his words before asking, "And you’d like me to support her by ensuring she eats and takes her medication?"
Leo nodded. "Among other things, yes. She won’t make it easy, but you were chosen for a reason."
"Chosen?" I echoed. "By whom?"
Leo exchanged a look with Conor before answering.
"Claire."
"I don’t understand," I admitted, furrowing my brows.
Mr. Leo studied me for a moment before asking, "Mae, what do you think of her?"
The question caught me off guard.
I hesitated. "Uhmm… Well, my first impression of her was that she’s cold and a little intimidating. Honestly, she seemed kind of scary."
Leo remained silent, waiting for me to continue.
"But after getting to know her," I added thoughtfully, "I realized she’s actually kind and caring… in her own way."
Mr. Leo leaned back in his chair, his expression thoughtful. "Mae, Claire doesn’t usually concern herself too much with what happens to the staff. If she wanted to help, she could have just asked Evelyn to handle it. But the fact that she personally got involved… that’s unusual."
I remained silent, absorbing his words.
"When you said she’s scary," he continued, "you’re not wrong. She is. Even I’m a little afraid of her."
I raised an eyebrow. "Aren’t you her husband? Why would you be scared of her?"
He let out a dry chuckle, shaking his head. "There are a lot of things you don’t know. But I suppose Claire trusts you, so I’ll tell you."
I straightened, listening intently.
"You’ve probably heard the rumours that our marriage was purely a business arrangement," he said, his tone even. "Well, that’s not entirely true… but it’s not entirely false either."
I nodded, waiting for him to elaborate.
"We don’t love each other that way, Mae. Our marriage is just a cover—for my parents, for appearances. Claire is my best friend." His voice softened for a moment before he hesitated, as if choosing his next words carefully. "I had no other choice. I couldn’t let any woman become my wife if I didn’t intend… to fall in love." His words trailed off, as though he didn’t want to finish the thought. Then, as if snapping back to reality, he quickly changed the subject.
"So, please take care of her," he said, his tone firm. "If you ever run into any issues, just let me know. She can be quite stubborn."
I forced a small smile. "Alright, sir. I’ll do my best."
But deep down, I hesitated. Claire wasn’t the only stubborn one—I was too. And, like her, I also had my own struggles… including taking my own medication.
Once my discussion with Mr. Leo was over, I returned to SPD and began packing up my belongings. One by one, I placed everything into a box—my mouse, keyboard, mug, tissues, keyboard pad, wrist rest, notes, books, pens, highlighters, and all the little things that had accumulated on my desk.
It felt like I had a lot of stuff, and maybe it seemed a bit excessive—or even girly—but in reality, everything was in shades of black, white, blue, purple, and silver. No bright colours, no unnecessary decorations—just practical and familiar.
As I was carefully wrapping up my things, Aaron, the team leader, approached me. His voice carried a tone of quiet authority, almost like a father figure. "Do you really want to leave us?"
I paused for a moment before offering a small smile. "I’m sorry, everyone. It’s been really great working with you all. Thank you for guiding me through everything."
I wasn’t sure what else to say. There was a strange mix of emotions—gratitude, uncertainty, and maybe even a bit of guilt.
The team just looked at me, understanding the situation even though there had been no official announcement about why I had requested a transfer.
Then Nina spoke up, her voice warm yet knowing. "You did well, Mae. I hope you find your peace this time."
Another coworker chimed in with a teasing smirk, "Yeah, at least make sure you don’t look like a zombie anymore."
A small laugh escaped me, though I wasn’t sure if it was out of amusement or just the weight of everything sinking in. "I’ll try," I said, closing the lid of my box.
.
.
.
As I walked up to the upper floor, I found Ms. Evelyn already waiting for me. The moment she saw me, she let out a dramatic sigh of relief.
"Oh my god, my saviour is here. Thank God," she said, clasping her hands together playfully.
I tilted my head slightly to the left. "Saviour?"
"Yeah—less work for me."
We both chuckled before she gestured for me to follow her. She led me to my new desk, which was positioned directly in front of the Co-CEO’s table.
As I took in the layout, I realized something—Claire’s desk was positioned right in the centre, facing both my desk and the office door, exuding a commanding presence. Meanwhile, my own desk, an L-shaped setup, was placed at the right side of her view.
It dawned on me that this arrangement meant we might end up staring at each other quite often. Every time she looked up from her work, her eyes would land on me. Every time I glanced forward, I would see her.
Just great.
I didn’t like this layout. At all.
It wasn’t about slacking off or doing something else while working—it was just the lack of privacy. Sitting directly in front of Claire, with nothing blocking her view of me, felt… exposed. Like I was constantly under a spotlight.
Maybe it was just my personality. I liked having my own space, a sense of control over my environment. Not because I had anything to hide, but because I valued a little breathing room—somewhere I could exist without feeling watched. I worked best when I had that space, when I didn’t feel like every glance or movement would be noticed and interpreted.
But here? That wasn’t an option.
.
.
.
I started unpacking my belongings, taking my time to arrange everything just the way I liked. A monitor and office phone were already set up on my desk, so I placed my items in their suitable spots, making sure everything felt organized and familiar.
Adjusting the office chair, I tested the height a few times until it felt just right—comfortable enough to sit in for hours without feeling stiff. Since Mrs. Claire wasn’t in the office yet, I figured she must have another meeting after our lunch earlier.
As I settled in, I realized something—I didn’t have a calendar. That was definitely going to be a problem. I needed one, especially now that my role required managing someone else’s schedule.
And my notebook? It was still filled with SPD project notes, which meant I needed a fresh one for this job. Sticky notes too. And—oh! Pens. I definitely needed pens.
I loved pens. Having the right one made writing feel smoother, ideas flow better—it was just satisfying.
Alright. A calendar, a new notebook, sticky notes, and lots of pens. First order of business.
As I unlocked my phone, I opened the Shopzz app and quickly placed an order for everything I needed—calendar, notebook, sticky notes, and, of course, pens.
Not long after, Evelyn walked in, carrying a stack of items. She placed them on my desk—two envelopes, a new phone, a luggage bag, and... a credit card?
I raised an eyebrow. "Uh... what's all this?"
Evelyn smirked. "Your welcome package."
She tapped the first envelope. "This one has your offer letter, all the documents related to your new role, and your new ID card. The Executive Department—especially the CEOs’ offices—requires a special access card to get in, so don’t lose it."
I nodded, taking a quick glance inside before she pointed to the second envelope.
"This one contains a list of important clients you need to remember."
"Clients?" I frowned. "Am I supposed to memorize them?"
She shrugged. "Just get familiar with their names. Claire deals with high-profile people, so it helps if you’re aware of who they are."
I sighed and picked up the new phone next. "And this?"
"Work phone. Strictly for business. Don't mix it up with your personal one."
Fair enough. Then my eyes landed on the credit card, and that’s when I really got confused. "And this?"
"You’ll be managing flight and hotel bookings whenever you and Claire travel for business," Evelyn explained. "Use this for any work-related expenses, but spend wisely. The company covers it, but you need to make sure there’s enough balance left for trips when needed."
I turned the card over in my hands. "How much is the limit?"
"Fifty thousand."
My jaw nearly dropped. "Fifty what?!"
Evelyn chuckled. "Fifty thousand. Relax, it's not like you need to spend it all. Oh, and—" She pointed at the luggage bag.
I stared at it. "Okay, I get the work stuff, but why a suitcase?"
"That’s a gift from Claire." She opened it slightly, revealing two professional suits and a pair of formal shoes inside. "You’ll need these for business trips."
I blinked. "Wait... Claire picked these?"
"More like approved them," Evelyn corrected with a smirk. "Consider it part of your uniform."
I exhaled, still trying to process everything. A new job, a work phone, a company credit card, business trips, a wardrobe update—
Just as Evelyn was about to leave, she suddenly stopped, her expression shifting like she had just remembered something important.
"Oh—almost forgot."
She reached into her folder and pulled out a neatly printed schedule before handing it to me.
I took the paper, scanning the contents. It wasn’t just any schedule—it was Claire’s medical and meal times.
Evelyn lowered her voice slightly, her tone more serious. "This is Claire’s medication and eating schedule. Follow it properly. Make sure she takes her meds and vitamins—no excuses."
I looked up at her, surprised by the weight in her words. "She... doesn’t follow it herself, does she?"
Evelyn sighed, shaking her head. "Not unless someone reminds her." She gave me a knowing look. "And now—that’s your job."
I swallowed, glancing back at the schedule. Great. So on top of everything else, I was now responsible for making sure Claire didn’t skip meals or neglect her health.
This job was turning out to be a lot more personal than I expected.
Evelyn gave me a small, almost sympathetic smile as I stared at the schedule.
"Good luck working under Claire’s wings," she said, amusement lacing her tone.
I looked up, raising an eyebrow. "That sounds... ominous."
She chuckled. "You’ll see soon enough." Then, with a final nod, she turned and walked away, leaving me alone with my new reality.
I exhaled, glancing back at the paper in my hand. Claire’s wings, huh?
Something told me this job was going to be anything but ordinary.