Chapter 4
The city outside my window is becoming quiet as the night settles in. It’s getting late, and I should be heading home after a long day, but there’s this nagging thought that has been on my mind all day.
Jessica, my new employee, the beautiful woman from last night. I hadn’t anticipated our paths crossing again, especially not in a professional setting.
I lean back in my chair, trying to focus on my work, but Jessica’s face keeps popping into my thoughts. Her brown eyes, her smile, and the time we spent together—it’s all making it hard to concentrate.
I take a deep breath, willing myself to put those images aside, but she’s a distraction I can’t seem to shake off.
I’m still trying to get her out of my head when Lysa walks into my office.
“Ethan, we need to talk,” she says, closing the door behind her.
I motion for her to take a seat. “Alright, what’s going on?”
Lysa inhales deeply before speaking. “I, uh, I had a bit of an accident with one of the company cars. It’s nothing major, just a scratch, but I thought I should let you know.”
I raise an eyebrow, getting a sense of where this is heading. “A scratch? Lysa, I already know about the crash,” I interject, my frustration evident in my tone.
“And it’s more than just a scratch. You bashed the car because you didn’t obey traffic rules. I can’t believe you’re using company property for personal errands.”
She shifts uncomfortably in her seat, realizing that the extent of her mistake is apparently public. “Ethan, I?—”
“I’ve been getting complaints about you, and it’s beginning to get out of hand.”
She shrugs with an air of nonchalance about her. “Ethan, it’s just a car. You can replace it. You’ve got the money for that, right?”
I exhale slowly, struggling to maintain composure. “Lysa, this is not about the car. It’s about trust and responsibility. We can’t overlook this blatant disregard for company rules.”
She leans back in her chair, seemingly unfazed. “Relax, Ethan. It’s not the end of the world. I can’t believe you’re making such a big deal out of it,” she scoffs.
I fix her with a stern look. “Lysa, this is the second incident in a short span of time. First, there was the mismanagement of funds, and now, there is the accident. I can’t ignore these issues.”
She waves it off, as if dismissing the severity. “Come on, Ethan. It’s not like I intentionally wrecked anything. These things happen.”
My frustration deepens, but I try to remain composed. “Lok, this kind of negligence is not something we can just brush aside. It reflects poorly on your character.”
She smirks, seemingly indifferent. “Oh, come on, you know you can’t fire me.”
I resist the urge to react impulsively. “And what makes you think that I can’t? You must think highly of yourself. You have to figure it out or you will be walking out the door with a box containing your things just like the rest.”
She leans forward, still nonchalant. “Fine, Ethan. Whatever works for you.”
I lean back, frustrated by her dismissive attitude. “Leave my office.”
Growing up, she and I were like two peas in a pod, childhood friends with a bond that felt unbreakable.
Two years ago, we decided to take the leap and started dating. Back then, I thought I was doing something good when I offered her a job at the hotel to manage the front desk staff. Lysa had a degree in business management, and it seemed like a good fit.
Things went south a year ago when I found out she’d been unfaithful. It hurt, and I had to end our romantic relationship. It was tough, especially considering I had loved her.
Even after our breakup, I let her keep working here. I guess it’s because of our shared history and the fact that I know her family well. Plus, she needed the money.
It’s a messy situation, and every day, I’m reminded of a mistake I made.
Dealing with Lysa at work is a constant frustration. What irks me the most is her nonchalant attitude towards her job. It’s like she only cares about herself, and nothing else matters.
She seems indifferent to the impact her actions have on the hotel and the team. It’s disheartening to see someone so self-centered, especially when the role was meant to be a lifeline for her.
It’s a daily struggle to manage the professional front, and her blatant disregard for the responsibilities irritates me to no end.
Heading home, I’m greeted by the scent of something burning when I open the door—a telltale sign that Amy has been trying her hand at cooking again.
When I get to the kitchen, I find her looking at the charred remains of what was probably intended to be dinner. I can’t help but tease her.
“Uh-oh, what culinary masterpiece were you attempting this time?” I quip, a smirk playing on my lips.
She rolls her eyes, obviously unamused by my playful banter. “I was just trying to make something edible, but, clearly, the kitchen and I are not on good terms.”
I chuckle, putting an arm around her shoulders. “Amy, I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again—you and cooking are a dangerous combination. Maybe stick to ordering takeout next time?”
She swats my arm, feigning offense. “Okay, Mr. Food Expert. You can cook, and I can order. Teamwork.”
We share a laugh, knowing all too well that her culinary escapades are far from over. She enrolled in an online culinary school weeks ago and is always trying out what she’s being taught. But with how disastrous they always turn out, I wonder if she listens to the things her teacher says.
The time she tried making pasta. It tasted like she prepared salt with a pinch of pasta. The food was so salty it could bruise one’s tongue.
I fish out my phone from my pocket as I order us something to eat. “Would you like some Thai food?” I ask over my shoulder.
“Yes, please, thank you. Mom called,” Amy says, wiping her hand on a napkin as she comes to join me in the living room.
“How is she?”
“She’s fine. She says she’s not ready to come back from her vacation.”
“I still don’t get why you decided to cut your time there short. And don’t tell me it’s the heat in Miami or because you got bored. I know that’s a lie.”
“Believe whatever you want. Let me know when the food is here.” With that, she disappears upstairs to the guest bedroom.
I know there’s something up with her. I just have to find out what it is.
The next day at work, I spot Jessica during her coffee break. Wanting to clear the air, I decide to approach her.
She stands out in the busy break area with her chestnut-brown hair cascading down her shoulders in loose waves. The tailored fit of the uniform accentuates her curves, adding a touch of sophistication to her appearance.
As the rest of the staff sees me, they all disappear from the room, save for her.
However, when I start to speak, she pointedly ignores me. It’s clear she’s not in the mood for a conversation.
Not wanting to get interrupted by anybody, I locked the door from inside.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she asks, eyes widening in shock.
“I want to have a chat with you.”
“Open the door.” She starts walking to the door, but I get in her way, causing her to step back.
“I’m still your boss. I give the orders here and not the other way around.”
She lets out a slow, frustrated breath. Folding her arms in front of her chest, she asks, “What do you want?”
Maintaining my composure, I meet Jessica’s gaze steadily. “I want to talk about what happened the other night. I think it’s important for us to clear the air and set some boundaries.”
Her expression tightens, a mixture of wariness and defiance in her eyes. “There’s nothing to talk about. It was a mistake, and I’d rather forget it.”
I lean against the door, folding my arms. “You can’t just sweep it under the rug. We work together, and it’s in both our interests to address any potential complications.”
She sighs, running a hand through her chestnut brown waves, a sign of frustration. “Look, can we just leave it in the past? I don’t want any drama at work. What happened was a one-time thing, and it shouldn’t affect our working relationship.”
Her gaze flickers with a mixture of relief and caution. “Please, sir, can you unlock the door now?”
I ask a simple question, “Do you truly not know who I am?”
Her answer surprises me, “You manage this hotel, right? You are my boss, and I don’t want to mess up and lose my job. That’s all I need to know.”
Wait a sec. She thinks I’m just in charge of this hotel, not the CEO running multiple hotels.
She’s looking at me like I’m just her boss, nothing more. It’s a mix of surprise and feeling relieved.