11. Jarvin
CHAPTER 11
Jarvin
A s the days pass, the struggle between staying professional and expressing my interest in Lucy becomes a delicate challenge.. Each interaction feels like navigating a tightrope, but I’m determined to make it work.
I start sharing small anecdotes from my life, hoping they’ll encourage her to open up. One afternoon, I decide to mention a recent hiking trip I took. “I went hiking last weekend,” I say casually as we both grab coffee from the break room. “Do you enjoy outdoor activities?”
Lucy hesitates, her eyes flickering with caution. For a moment, I worry I’ve overstepped, but then she relaxes slightly and replies, “Actually, yes. I went camping a few years ago with some friends. It was quite an adventure.”
My interest piques immediately. “Really? Tell me more about it.”
She looks at me, her green eyes shimmering with memories. “We went to this remote spot by a lake. It was beautiful but also challenging to get to. We had to hike quite a bit to get there.”
I lean in, genuinely captivated. “That sounds incredible. What was the most memorable part?”
Lucy smiles softly, a genuine expression that makes my heart race. “Probably the night we spent by the campfire, sharing stories and roasting marshmallows. It was so peaceful and... freeing.”
I nod, imagining her there under the stars, the firelight dancing in her eyes. “There’s something special about being out in nature,” I agree. “It’s like all the noise of everyday life just fades away.”
She seems to appreciate my understanding and adds, “Yeah, exactly. It was one of those trips that really sticks with you.”
I want to ask more—dive deeper into her experiences and thoughts—but I check myself, not wanting to push too far too fast. Instead, I savor the moment, watching the way her eyes light up as she talks about something meaningful to her.
“You know,” I begin thoughtfully. “Hiking always gives me this sense of clarity. Like all my problems shrink in comparison to the vastness around me.”
Lucy nods slowly, clearly resonating with what I’ve said. For a moment, we’re connected by our shared appreciation for nature’s simplicity.
But then she glances at her watch and says, “I should get back to work.”
“Of course,” I reply smoothly, hiding any hint of disappointment. “Don't work so hard! You'll make the rest of us look lazy.”
She offers a small smile before heading back to her desk.
As she walks away, I can’t help but feel my interest in her growing with each passing day. The balance between maintaining professionalism and expressing my want for her is challenging—but every small connection we make is worth it.
Returning to my office, I mull over our conversation, replaying her words in my mind. She’s opening up little by little, and each glimpse into her world makes me more determined to find a way into her heart.
I know it’ll take time and patience—qualities I’ve honed over years of running this company—but something about Lucy makes every effort feel worthwhile.
I dive back into work with renewed focus but can't shake off the warmth our conversation brought me today.
This is just the beginning; I remind myself as I start drafting another report.
When I finish, I check my watch, noticing how the rest of the afternoon seemed to slip away from me. Late nights at the office have become a routine for Lucy and me. Tonight is no different.
We’re both engrossed in a critical project that demands our full attention. The clock ticks past ten, and the office is eerily quiet, the hum of computers and occasional shuffling of papers the only sounds breaking the silence.
I glance at Lucy from across the conference table. She’s deep in concentration, her fingers flying over the keyboard. There’s a determination in her eyes that I can’t help but admire. The urge to break the silence, to connect with her on a personal level, is almost overwhelming, but I remind myself to respect her boundaries.
Finally, she sits back, stretching her arms above her head and letting out a soft sigh. “I think that’s it for tonight,” she says, looking both exhausted and satisfied.
I nod, closing my laptop. “We made good progress,” I agree. “You did an excellent job.”
She offers a tired but genuine smile. “Thanks, Jarvin.”
“Nothing ruins a Friday night more than realizing it’s actually Tuesday,” I say just to see her smile.
She laughs softly, trying to avoid my gaze.
As we gather our things, I feel a familiar internal struggle building. I want to offer something more than just professional praise—some gesture to show I care beyond our work relationship—but I tread carefully.
“Would you like me to walk you to your car?” I ask casually, trying not to let too much eagerness seep into my voice.
Lucy looks up, her expression softening for a moment before she shakes her head gently. “That’s kind of you, but I’m okay. It’s just a short walk.”
I nod, masking my disappointment with a smile. “Alright then. Drive safely.”
She returns my smile with a polite nod before heading towards the elevator. I watch her go, feeling that familiar tug-of-war inside me—the desire to be closer to her battling against my commitment to respecting her wishes.
Once she’s gone, the office feels even emptier than usual. I sit back down, staring at the documents we’ve been working on but seeing only her face in my mind’s eye.
It’s not easy balancing my feelings for Lucy with my respect for her boundaries. Each interaction feels like walking a fine line, but it’s necessary if there’s any hope of earning her trust.
For now, I focus on what’s within my control: being there when she needs me and giving her space when she doesn’t. The rest will have to unfold in its own time.
With a sigh, I gather my things and head out of the office, hoping tomorrow brings new opportunities for me to get closer to her.
The next morning the office is quiet as I walk over to Lucy’s desk, a small handwritten note in my hand. I place it carefully on her keyboard, making sure it’s the first thing she’ll see when she gets in.
The note is simple but sincere, expressing my appreciation for her hard work and inviting her to grab dinner with me— just to talk outside of work. It’s a stretch but maybe if we were outside of work we could find that rhythm we had in the airport.
I retreat to my office, leaving the door slightly ajar so I can catch a glimpse of her reaction. The minutes tick by slowly until finally, I hear the soft click of her heels approaching.
She sits down and notices the note almost immediately. Her eyes scan the words, and I see a mix of emotions flicker across her face—surprise, curiosity, and something else I can’t quite place.
She reads it again, her green eyes moving slowly over the words. Then, with a deliberate grace that makes my pulse quicken, she folds the note neatly and places it to the side. My heart pounds in my chest, each beat echoing in the silence of my office as I wait for her response.
A short while later, there's a knock on my office door, pulling me out of my thoughts. I look up to see Lucy standing there, holding the note in one hand. Her expression is gentle but resolute. She steps inside, her presence filling the room with that familiar warmth I’ve come to crave.
“Jarvin,” she begins, stepping into the room. “I appreciate the offer, but it’s probably best if we just keep things professional. I need this job…” She stops, her words heavy as if she means to say more, but after a moment it's clear, she isn't going to elaborate.
Her words are firm but kind, and they hit me harder than I expected. A pang of disappointment shoots through me, but I force myself to nod in understanding.
“Of course, I totally respect that,” I say, giving her an understanding smile.
Lucy gives me an appreciative smile before turning to leave. As she walks away, I can’t help but feel some regret wash over me. It’s not what I’d hoped for, but I meant what I said—I respect her choice.
Back at my desk, I take a deep breath and refocus on my work. This might not be the outcome I wanted, but maintaining professionalism is crucial. For now, that will have to be enough.
I've never been faced with something, or someone, that has held my interest like Lucy. It’s as if I'm spinning my wheels just hoping to feel a glimmer of that connection.
Respecting her wishes is the right thing to do, but that doesn’t make it any easier. I feel a sense of loss, like something significant has slipped through my fingers.
The memory of our airport encounter flashes through my mind—the laughter, the banter, the brief but intense kiss. It felt like a moment suspended in time, filled with possibilities. But here, in the confines of our professional environment, those possibilities seem more distant than ever.
I let out a frustrated sigh and close my eyes for a moment. Her image is there, vivid and unrelenting. The way her eyes sparkled when she talked about her camping trip, the soft curve of her smile when she let her guard down—these are details I can’t easily forget.
But I have to. At least for now.
Opening my eyes, I take a deep breath and straighten up. If there’s one thing I’ve learned in my career, it’s that persistence pays off—not by force, but by patience and understanding.
I pick up a pen and start scribbling notes on a project proposal. The rhythmic motion helps clear my mind a bit, giving me something tangible to focus on. Still, there’s a part of me that clings to the hope that someday the circumstances might change.
But for now, all I can do is work. It’s what I’m good at, after all.