The meeting was dragging.
This was the third proposal I'd listened to that morning, and each one was worse than the last. Numbers that didn't add up. Strategies that made no sense. Executives who were clearly afraid to look me in the eye.
A familiar ache throbbed behind my left temple, the kind that warned I'd been working too long, thinking too hard, and sleeping too little.
"Mr. Yusuf," my assistant, Harper, called softly from the door. "The next team is ready for you."
I exhaled. "Send them in."
The boardroom door opened.
And she walked in.
The woman from the job fair.
The one who'd spilled coffee on my suit.
The one whose eyes had haunted me longer than I liked to admit.
Arata.
She stepped in behind a group of junior staff, her gaze fixed on the folder in her hands as though she could disappear into it. She had changed her hairstyle, a low puff, neat, simple, and she wasn't wearing the bright colors from the job fair. Today she looked… calm. Understated. Completely unaware that she had just become the most interesting thing in the room.
Why was she here?
She took a seat at the far end of the table, almost hidden. A deliberate choice. She didn't want to be noticed.
She failed.
"Let's begin," I said.
The team leader began talking, but I barely heard him. My eyes kept drifting to her. The slight tremble in her fingers. The way she kept chewing the inside of her cheek. The tension in her shoulders as if she was carrying the weight of something heavy, something she didn't want to share.
She didn't belong in this room.
Not in a bad way, no.
She didn't belong here because she looked like someone who had survived something difficult just to sit at that table.
"Mr. Yusuf?" the team leader asked. "Your feedback?"
I blinked. I hadn't listened to a single sentence.
Arata lifted her head slightly, curious… then quickly looked away when our eyes met.
"I'll review the proposal later," I said calmly. "You're dismissed."
They filed out quickly, relieved.
Except Arata.
She gathered her notebook and tried to slip out quietly, but Harper stepped in.
"Miss Okafor, Mr. Yusuf would like a moment with you."
Her entire body froze.
I watched her turn slowly, her face composed but her eyes wide with panic. She walked back into the room with small, hesitant steps, like someone approaching a fire, unsure whether to run or endure the heat.
When the door closed behind her, silence settled.
"You work here," I said.
She swallowed. "Yes, sir."
"How long?"
"Today is… my first day."
Interesting.
Her posture was stiff, like she expected to be yelled at for the coffee incident. Like she expected trouble to follow her.
I pushed my chair back slightly.
"Why did you apply?"
Her eyes lifted to mine, and for a second, just one, she forgot to pretend she was fine.
Then the truth slipped out:
"I needed the job."
Not "I wanted the job."
Not "I'm qualified."
Just the truth. Raw. Unpolished. Brave.
Something tightened in my chest before I could stop it.
Her eyes widened. "I… I mean, I'm willing to work hard, sir. I.. I can learn anything. I just…"
"You don't have to beg," I cut in gently.
She froze again, surprised. Maybe even confused.
"I remember you from the job fair," I added. "You looked… determined."
She didn't speak.
And I didn't like the way her hands were shaking.
"Arata," I said quietly, "are you in some kind of trouble?"
Her breath caught.
She opened her mouth. Closed it.
Then whispered, "It's nothing I can't handle."
A lie.
A bold one.
Before I could press further, there was a knock at the door.
Harper stepped in. "Sir, your 1 PM appointment is waiting."
I nodded.
Arata immediately moved toward the exit.
"Arata," I called.
She paused at the door, back straight, chin lifted, pretending she wasn't breaking.
"Yes, sir?"
"Come to my office at the end of the day. We're not done talking."
Her eyes widened again not with fear this time, but shock.
"Yes, sir," she murmured.
The door closed behind her.
And for the first time in months…
I wasn't thinking about meetings or numbers or deadlines.
I was thinking about her.
And why the hell I cared.