Olivia and Grace sat surrounded by towering stacks of files, laptops open, pages scattered across the desk like remnants of a storm. Olivia leaned back in her chair, rubbing the bridge of her nose. "We need to arrange everything in order of urgency. If we don't fix the critical problems first, the whole project will collapse before it even starts."
Grace, scribbling notes beside her, nodded. "The designs are scattered, the supplier contracts are delayed, and the venue negotiations are halfway done but incomplete. Which should we place at the top?"
Olivia tapped the desk with her pen, thinking sharply. "The clothes. Without the collection finalized, the show itself doesn't exist. After that, we'll fix the venue mess. Everything else—guest lists, promotions—can fall into place later."
Grace wrote it down quickly, her neat handwriting lining up task after task.
Hours stretched on as the two women worked side by side, reorganizing files, categorizing what needed immediate attention versus what could be pushed back, and cross-checking everything against deadlines. Olivia's sharp handwriting filled pages of notes and reminders, her mind already three steps ahead of every problem she spotted.
The once-chaotic pile of files had been transformed into neat stacks labeled with sticky notes. "Urgent," "Secondary," and "Pending" were written in bold letters, arranged in perfect order across Olivia's desk.
Olivia leaned back in her chair, stretching her arms over her head until her shoulders popped. A heavy sigh escaped her lips. "Finally," she muttered. "Now at least it looks like something I can work with."
Olivia glanced at the clock on the wall. The hands had already crept past 10:30 p.m., and the office floor was as quiet as a graveyard. She rubbed the back of her neck and exhaled slowly before turning to Grace, who was still flipping through documents with tired determination.
"It's late," Olivia said, her voice firm but not unkind. "You should head home, Grace."
Grace looked up, surprised. "What about you?"
Olivia gave a small half-smile, tapping the file in front of her. "I just need to organize this last batch, then I'll leave. Don't worry—I'm not planning to camp out here."
Grace hesitated, clearly torn between wanting to stay and her exhaustion. She knew Olivia could handle herself, but the thought of leaving her behind still made her frown. Finally, she nodded reluctantly. "Alright. Don't push yourself too much."
Olivia chuckled softly. "Says the one who was about to fall asleep on the files five minutes ago. Go home. Get some rest."
Grace gave her a faint smile, gathered her things, and left the office, her footsteps fading down the hall.
Once the door closed, silence wrapped around Olivia again. She turned back to the files, her expression sharpening. With practiced efficiency, she began sorting them into neat stacks, labeling, cross-checking, and making margin notes where needed. The world outside might have been asleep, but Olivia was wide awake—focused, steady, and unwilling to leave even the smallest detail out of place.
At 11:30, Olivia stepped out of her office. She found the hallway unusually still. She pressed the button for the elevator, and when the doors slid open, she stepped inside—only to find herself standing face-to-face with Aiden.
He was leaning casually against the elevator wall, his jacket slung over his arm. But even in his composed posture, Olivia noticed it immediately—he looked exhausted. The faint shadows under his eyes, the loosened tie around his neck, and the way his shoulders seemed heavier than usual.
He glanced up the moment he heard her heels click against the floor. "You're still here."
Olivia gave him a dry look as she adjusted the strap of her bag. "With all the work everyone left me to handle, I could live here for a month and still barely get it done."
Her sarcasm was sharp, but there was no venom in it—just the flat truth.
Aiden's lips parted, as if to respond, but he hesitated. For once, he didn't argue, didn't defend himself. He simply watched her, something unreadable flickering in his eyes.
They walked together in silence, the sound of their steps echoing in the dim corridor. When they reached the underground garage, they both slowed, their cars parked side by side.
Aiden glanced at her again. "Goodnight, Olivia."
Olivia nodded lightly. "Goodnight."
Without further words, they each slipped into their cars. Engines roared to life, headlights cutting across the concrete walls.
At home, Olivia dropped her bag on the couch and went straight to the bathroom. The hot shower washed away the fatigue clinging to her muscles, steam fogging the mirror. She leaned against the tiles for a moment, eyes closed, letting the water drown out the noise in her head.
When she finally collapsed into bed, exhaustion pulled her under almost immediately.
The next morning, Olivia rose earlier than usual, determined to set the pace for the day. She ate a light breakfast while scrolling through emails on her tablet, then dressed in her usual sharp attire before heading out. By the time she arrived at the company, the office was already buzzing with whispers.
The moment she stepped inside, heads turned. People greeted her enthusiastically, their relief and admiration almost palpable. The news of her return had already spread, and it seemed to have injected a new sense of morale into the building.
Olivia didn't linger. She made her way to her office and immediately called for Grace.
"The main task starts today," Olivia said firmly once Grace arrived. She tapped the top file in the pile. "Clothes first. Contact the designers, the tailors, and the suppliers. We need to finalize the collection immediately. If we don't secure the designs and materials, everything else is meaningless."
Grace nodded, scribbling down notes. "I'll schedule meetings with the suppliers. Do you want me to confirm the designers for a conference as well?"
"Yes. And tell them to prepare updates on every piece that's behind schedule. No excuses. I want reports in my hands before the end of the day."
Grace hurried off to begin the calls, and Olivia sat back in her chair, pulling the first thick file toward her. Her eyes sharpened as she skimmed through the disaster the project had become in her absence. Threads of irritation curled in her chest, but she forced them down. There was no time for anger anymore.
It was time to rebuild.
And this time, she would do it her way.