Be True
People always have something to say. They expect you to act a certain way, to fit into their idea of who you should be. But honestly? That’s exhausting.
 
I don’t want to change just to make them happy. If I change, it’s gonna be for me. Because I want to grow, because it feels right—not because someone else thinks I should.
 
It’s not always easy to stay true to myself. Sometimes, I wonder if I should just go along with what they want. Maybe it would make things easier. Maybe I’d feel less out of place. But then what? I’d be living someone else’s life, not mine.
 
So, no. I’m choosing me. My thoughts, my feelings, my dreams. I’ll be the person I want to be, and if that’s not enough for some people, then maybe they’re not my people.
 
And that’s okay.
.
.
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            I woke up earlier than usual, unable to go back to sleep. Maybe it was nerves. Or maybe it was the fact that my mind wouldn’t stop running through everything that happened yesterday.
Feeling restless, I headed downstairs for a drink—only to find my stepfather already in the kitchen, making breakfast.
He glanced up when he saw me. "You’re up early."
I nodded, rubbing the back of my neck. I wasn’t sure how to explain why.
"Couldn’t sleep?" he asked, flipping an egg.
"Something like that," I muttered, opening the fridge to grab some juice.
He didn’t say anything for a moment, then casually asked, "Got a busy day ahead?"
I hesitated. "Yeah, kinda."
He gave a small nod, like that was all the answer he needed. "Well, good luck with… whatever’s keeping you busy."
I hummed in response, sipping my drink. The conversation felt awkward, but not in a bad way. It was just… how it always was between us.
Not wanting to linger, I quickly excused myself and headed back upstairs to get ready.
.
.
.
The office was already buzzing when I arrived. I stepped out of the elevator, adjusting my bag on my shoulder, and headed straight to my new desk.
Everything was just as I had left it—monitor set up, office supplies neatly arranged, the suitcase from yesterday still tucked beside my desk.
I exhaled, settling into my chair and opening my laptop. Alright, first step—check emails.
But before I could even start, Evelyn appeared.
"Morning," she greeted, setting down a coffee cup on her desk. She eyed me for a second. "Nervous?"
"That obvious?" I muttered.
She smirked. "Relax, you’ll get used to it. Claire’s not in yet, but when she arrives, she’ll probably expect you to already have her schedule sorted out."
I nodded, quickly pulling up Claire’s calendar.
"And don’t forget," Evelyn added, tapping the edge of my desk. "If she skips breakfast, make sure she eats something before her first meeting. That woman runs on work, not food."
I swallowed. Right. My first task of the day: remind Claire Linwood-Anders to eat.
Somehow, that felt more terrifying than handling a software deployment.
An hour later, the sound of heels clicking against the marble floor caught my attention.
Claire had arrived.
She walked in effortlessly—graceful, composed, unreadable. Dressed in a sleek navy suit, her hair in its usual low bun, she looked like she had stepped right out of a magazine.
She didn’t acknowledge anyone as she made her way to her desk. Not even a glance in my direction.
I exhaled, gripping my pen a little tighter. Okay. It’s starting.
I waited a few moments, then stood up, grabbing my tablet and the paper Evelyn gave me yesterday. I walked over to her desk, trying not to let my nerves show.
"Good morning, Mrs. Claire," I greeted.
She looked up from her laptop, her eyes briefly scanning me. "Morning," she replied, her voice calm but distant.
I hesitated, then decided to just get to the point. "I’ve prepared your schedule for today. Also—" I glanced at the document in my hand. "Your breakfast."
She raised an eyebrow. "What about it?"
I cleared my throat. "You didn’t have any."
A brief silence.
Her gaze flickered toward Evelyn’s desk, then back to me. "She told you, didn’t she?"
I didn’t deny it. "I was advised to make sure you don’t skip meals."
She exhaled through her nose, then leaned back in her chair. "And what if I refuse?"
I hesitated for a second. "Then... I’ll just have to keep reminding you."
A smirk ghosted her lips, but it was gone in an instant.
"Persistent," she murmured.
I stayed silent, unsure if that was a compliment or a warning.
She glanced at the time on her monitor, then sighed. "Fine. Order me something light."
I blinked. Wait. That worked?
"Noted," I said quickly, before she changed her mind. "Any preferences?"
"Surprise me."
I nodded and turned to head back to my desk, already pulling up a delivery app. First task of the day: complete.
But before I could take another step, her voice stopped me.
"And Mae?"
I turned back. "Yes?"
Her lips curved slightly—not quite a smile, but something close. "Good job."
I blinked, caught off guard, but recovered quickly. "Thank you, Mrs. Claire."
As I sat back down, ordering her breakfast, I felt some of my nerves ease.
Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.
 
[Around 11:00 am]
           
With Claire’s breakfast taken care of and her meetings lined up, I finally let myself breathe. So far, so good.
I spent the next hour quietly going through emails, double-checking her itinerary, and reading through the client profiles Evelyn had given me. It was a lot to take in, but I figured I'd learn as I went.
Just as I started making notes on an upcoming event, Claire's voice broke the silence.
"Mae."
I immediately looked up. "Yes?"
She didn't glance away from her screen. "Get ready to head out. We have a meeting outside."
I blinked. "Now?"
"In thirty minutes," she clarified.
"Understood."
As she continued working, I quickly gathered what I needed.
.
.
.
A sleek black car was already waiting outside when we stepped out of the building. Claire slid into the backseat without a word, and I followed, settling in beside her.
For the first few minutes, the car ride was completely silent. Claire was scrolling through her tablet, focused, while I debated whether I should say something or just let the silence be.
Eventually, curiosity got the best of me.
"This meeting... what’s it about?" I asked cautiously.
She glanced at me briefly before returning to her screen. "A contract renewal with one of our major partners. They’re considering backing out, so I need to convince them otherwise."
I frowned. "Why would they back out?"
She exhaled, finally setting her tablet down. "Concerns over long-term profitability. Competition has been offering them better deals."
I hesitated. "So... what’s your strategy?"
She raised an eyebrow, as if surprised by my question. Then, after a brief pause, she smirked slightly.
"Why? You planning to give me business advice?"
I flushed. "No, I just—wanted to understand."
She hummed, tilting her head slightly. "Good. You should. If you're going to be assisting me, you need to know more than just my schedule."
I swallowed. Was that her way of saying she expected me to keep up?
Before I could think of a response, the car slowed to a stop.
"We're here," Claire said, adjusting her blazer. "Follow my lead."
I nodded quickly, clutching my tablet a little tighter. Time to see Claire in action.
The moment we stepped into the upscale restaurant where the meeting was being held, Claire’s entire demeanour shifted.
She remained composed and poised, but there was a sharper edge to her presence—a quiet authority that commanded attention.
The executives were already seated when we arrived. They stood to greet her, offering polite handshakes, though I noticed a hint of hesitation in their expressions. This wasn’t just a casual discussion.
Claire wasted no time.
"Shall we get straight to the point?" she said smoothly, taking her seat.
The other party exchanged glances before their representative finally spoke. "Ms. Linwood-Anders, we appreciate you meeting with us, so I’ll be direct—we’ve been reviewing our partnership, and given recent offers from competitors, we’re reconsidering our position."
I glanced at Claire, expecting some sort of reaction. But she didn’t so much as blink.
Instead, she leaned back slightly, crossing one leg over the other. "I see. And what exactly have they offered you?"
A brief pause.
The executive hesitated before clearing his throat. "Lower rates, a more flexible contract, and certain—additional perks."
Claire hummed, as if she had predicted this exact response.
"And yet," she said lightly, "you’re still here. Which tells me you haven’t made up your mind just yet."
I bit the inside of my cheek. She’s good.
The executive shifted in his seat. "Well, we wanted to give Summit River the opportunity to counter their offer."
Claire smiled—but it wasn’t warm or inviting. It was calculated.
"Tell me," she said, tapping a perfectly manicured nail against the table, "have you considered the risks of switching partners? The transition costs alone would offset any short-term savings. Not to mention the risk of service disruptions while adapting to a new provider."
I watched as the executive stiffened slightly.
"Summit River," Claire continued smoothly, "has been your partner for years. We understand your needs, your workflow, and how to adapt when necessary. Can your new prospects say the same?"
Silence.
The executives exchanged glances. She had them thinking.
Claire leaned forward slightly, delivering the final blow.
"Instead of chasing temporary savings, why not focus on long-term stability?" Her voice remained calm, unwavering. "I can adjust the contract to better suit your needs—but only if we maintain this partnership."
The room was quiet for a long moment.
Finally, the executive sighed. "We’ll need to discuss this internally, but... we’re open to negotiation."
Claire gave a small, satisfied nod. "That’s all I ask."
I exhaled, realizing I had been holding my breath the entire time. She actually turned the situation around.
As the meeting wrapped up and we stepped outside, Claire glanced at me.
"Did you take notes?" she asked.
I nodded. "Every word."
She smirked. "Good. You’ll need them. Just for your reference, though. It’s not really your job—pass the information to Evelyn later."
Right. Every meeting, I had to take notes, relay them to Evelyn, ensure Claire took her vitamins, remind her to eat, and accompany her wherever she went. That was the extent of my role.
And yet, despite how simple it seemed, something about Claire’s cold demeanour made it exhausting.
As we slid into the car, I sighed internally.
Working with Claire Linwood-Anders was going to be an experience—whether I was ready for it or not.
.
.
.
Claire took the cup from my hands, eyeing the herbal tea with mild curiosity. She didn’t comment, but the slight upturn of her lips told me she didn’t entirely disapprove.
"You keep rejecting the breakfast I prepare," I muttered, crossing my arms. "So I figured I’d try something else."
Her gaze flickered to me before she took a slow sip. "Mm. Not bad."
That was probably the highest praise I was going to get.
I set down a small packet of pills and vitamins next to her. "Evelyn told me to make sure you take these on time."
Claire glanced at them, then at me, her expression unreadable.
"You take your job seriously," she remarked, reaching for the meds.
I shrugged. "It’s not like I have much else to do. This is the only part of your schedule I actually handle."
She hummed, downing the pills with another sip of tea. "Then you’re doing well."
I blinked. Was that… a compliment?
Before I could ask, Claire smoothly shifted the topic. "What’s on my schedule today?"
I pulled out my phone and scrolled through the schedule Evelyn had sent me. "You have a lunch meeting with the marketing team, but other than that, it’s a pretty open day."
Claire nodded, seemingly satisfied. She took another sip of tea, then—without looking at me—said, "Bring me lunch today."
I frowned. "Didn’t you say you have a lunch meeting?"
"I do," she said, setting the cup down. "But I want you to bring it."
I hesitated, trying to read between the lines. Was this another test? Or was she just tired of restaurant food?
Either way, I sighed and nodded. "Fine. But if you don’t eat it, I’m going to complain again."
Her lips twitched, just slightly. "Duly noted."
With that, she turned her attention to her work, and I exhaled quietly, already thinking about what kind of meal she might actually finish this time.
Lunchtime rolled around faster than I expected, and I found myself standing in front of the café counter, debating what to get her. Claire was unpredictable when it came to food—rejecting breakfast, barely finishing meals, and yet, she still wanted me to bring her lunch.
After a few moments of internal struggle, I settled on something light but nutritious—a grilled chicken salad with a side of soup. Not too heavy, not too plain. I wasn’t sure if she’d like it, but it was better than letting her go through the day without eating.
By the time I got back to the office, Claire was still buried in paperwork, her fingers moving swiftly across her keyboard. She didn’t even glance up as I set the meal on her desk.
“Lunch,” I announced, folding my arms. “No excuses.”
She finally looked up, arching a brow at my tone. “You sound like Evelyn.”
“Maybe because both of us are just trying to keep you from collapsing,” I shot back.
Claire didn’t respond, but to my surprise, she actually reached for the salad container and opened it. Progress.
I watched as she took a small bite, chewing slowly. After a moment, she spoke. “Not bad.”
I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. “Then finish it.”
A small smirk played on her lips. “Bossy.”
I rolled my eyes and stepped back, returning to my seat. It wasn’t much, but at least she was eating. That was all that mattered.
A few minutes passed in silence as she ate and worked, the occasional rustle of papers filling the room. I kept my eyes on my phone, absentmindedly scrolling through random articles, until Claire suddenly spoke.
"Do you always take care of people like this?"
I glanced up, caught off guard. "What?"
She set her fork down, studying me with that same unreadable expression. "You seem... persistent."
"Not really," I shrugged. "Just doing my job properly."
Claire tilted her head slightly. "Can you cook?"
"Uh... not really, but I can follow a recipe. I know the basics—fried rice, stuff like that."
She gave a small nod of understanding. Then, casually, as if discussing the weather, she asked, "So when are you moving into my place?"
I froze. Move out? I'd been waiting for them to bring it up, not wanting to seem desperate. But her place?
"Your place?" I echoed cautiously.
No way. I wasn’t about to live with her. A dorm would be fine—more than fine.
Claire smirked, amused. "Didn’t you want to live on your own?"
"Yeah, but… you said your place—doesn't that mean..." I trailed off.
"My house," she clarified. "You won’t be living with me, sweetheart. But since it's my property, I can drop by anytime. Right?" Her voice was teasing, flirtatious.
I swallowed, unsure how to respond. "I’ll discuss it with my mom first. I haven’t really talked to her about it yet."
Claire waved a hand dismissively. "No worries. I’ll make it official—an agreement that requires you to be by my side at all times."
Her smirk deepened, and I wasn’t sure if she was joking or dead serious.