The office had shifted. No longer a battlefield where Ruthie merely survived, it had become a stage where she commanded quiet respect. The same colleagues who had whispered behind her back, plotted sabotage, and tried to unsettle her now approached cautiously, if at all.
Dave had noticed.
It wasn't just the precision of her work, or the calmness with which she navigated chaos. It was the way she observed, calculated, and anticipated every potential problem before it could arise. Ruthie was no longer just a competent secretary—she had become an indispensable asset.It was Monday morning when Dave called Ruthie into his office. The sunlight streamed through the large glass windows, reflecting off the polished floor, highlighting his sharp silhouette.
"Ruthie," he began, voice clipped but firm, "I'm assigning you a high-priority project. It involves coordinating a shipment for an international client, ensuring all documentation, logistics, and compliance checks are verified before submission. Mistakes here will cost the company significantly."
Ruthie's heart quickened, but she did not falter. She straightened, meeting his gaze. "Yes, sir. I will ensure every detail is accurate and prepared for review."
Dave studied her for a moment, his dark eyes narrowing thoughtfully. "I'm trusting you with this because I believe you can handle it. And because… I want to see how you manage under pressure."
Ruthie nodded, internalizing the weight of the responsibility. She knew this was more than a project; it was a statement—a measure of trust and recognition.
immersed herself in the project. She coordinated with shipment managers, double-checked contracts, ensured compliance with international regulations, and even contacted the client to confirm details personally.
Her coworkers watched in awe, whispering behind closed doors. Some were still envious, plotting subtle ways to undermine her. But Ruthie, now seasoned in navigating office malice, anticipated potential issues before they could materialize. She corrected small mistakes before they escalated and documented every step meticulously.
By midweek, the project was running smoothly—so smoothly that Dave himself had to acknowledge the efficiency she brought.
Dave began observing Ruthie more attentively. He noticed the subtle confidence in her posture, the careful way she approached tasks, and the intelligence behind every decision. He watched as she diffused tense situations with coworkers, solved problems before they reached him, and handled clients with composure beyond her years.
There was something about her that intrigued him—not just her competence, but her resilience, her quiet determination, and the fire she kept restrained under a calm exterior.
As Ruthie took control of the high-level project, the office atmosphere shifted again. Those who had once mocked her now approached with cautious respect. Requests for guidance, subtle advice, and collaboration quietly started arriving at her desk.
Even Stella and Mariama, who had once plotted against her, could do little but observe in frustration. Ruthie had outsmarted them, and now they had to navigate around her influence.
Ruthie remained focused, her demeanor professional, her mind clear. She didn't seek praise or acknowledgment. She simply worked, letting results speak for themselves.By Friday afternoon, the project was nearing completion. Ruthie presented her comprehensive report to Dave, detailing every step, potential risk, and contingency plan. He reviewed it silently, flipping through the meticulously organized documents.
Finally, he looked up. "You've done exceptionally well," he said, a rare note of approval in his voice. "I'm impressed with your foresight and accuracy."
Ruthie's lips curved in a modest smile. "Thank you, sir. I wanted to ensure there were no errors. Accuracy and thoroughness are essential, especially for high-priority projects."
Dave nodded, his mind processing more than just the work. There was a subtle admiration in his gaze, a recognition not just of her skill, but of her character.
Over the following weeks, Dave began assigning Ruthie more critical responsibilities. He started including her in meetings he had previously reserved for senior staff, asking for her insights, and occasionally discussing minor strategy points with her privately.
For Ruthie, these opportunities were unprecedented. She continued to approach them professionally, unaware of the growing personal interest Dave harbored. He watched how she handled stress, how she interacted with others, and how she maintained integrity in an environment that often encouraged deceit and manipulation.
Even in moments when he observed her quietly from his office, the corners of his mind nudged with curiosity: Who was this woman who had endured so much yet moved through life with such quiet strength?
Meanwhile, Ruthie's confidence and reputation continued to grow. Her handling of high-level projects, her foresight, and her ability to remain calm under pressure made her indispensable. Colleagues increasingly sought her guidance, and even clients began to recognize her professionalism and reliability.
She remained humble but unshakable, carrying herself with the quiet authority of someone who had faced life's harshest battles and emerged stronger.
The office had become a different place—not just a workplace, but a proving ground where Ruthie now reigned silently, respected, and even subtly feared.
Dave's perception of Ruthie shifted subtly. He began to value not only her professional abilities but also her intelligence, judgment, and resilience. He found himself curious about her past, intrigued by her endurance, and cautious not to underestimate her.
Though he remained reserved, a quiet recognition grew: Ruthie was no ordinary employee. She was someone who could navigate chaos, withstand pressure, and consistently deliver results beyond expectation.
And though Ruthie had no idea, she had begun to occupy a space in his mind—an interest that was professional, yes, but also quietly Dave sat behind his mahogany desk, staring at a file he wasn't truly reading. His mind was elsewhere, and for the first time in years, he allowed it to wander beyond schedules, shipments, and profits.
He leaned back in his chair, the leather creaking beneath his weight, and exhaled slowly. His dark eyes, usually so sharp and calculating, softened as they drifted toward the large windows overlooking the bustling streets of Banjul.
Why do I find myself thinking about her so much? he wondered, turning the idea over carefully. Ruthie…
Her name lingered in his thoughts like a quiet echo. He thought about how she moved in the office, calm, precise, and unshakable. How she had handled the high-priority projects with such grace, efficiency, and intelligence. How she had endured the subtle sabotage from coworkers without raising her voice or showing weakness.
I like her more than anyone I've known, he admitted to himself, almost grudgingly. He didn't like admitting feelings easily—never had. Years of wealth, privilege, and always being the only son had taught him control, dominance, and composure. Yet Ruthie had breached that armor without a word, without even trying.
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. The quiet office felt unusually intimate, as if it were conspiring with his thoughts.
I wonder… could I… speak to her personally? he thought, his brow furrowed. The idea felt both thrilling and terrifying. A part of him—a side he rarely acknowledged—wanted to step out of the professional boundary he had always maintained.
What if she says yes? he considered, a small, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Or worse… what if she says no?
He shook his head slightly, trying to dismiss the thought. Yet even as he tried, images of Ruthie at her desk came to him. Her quiet determination, her careful movements, the way she handled herself with dignity despite being underestimated. He remembered her calm eyes, the subtle firmness in her tone, the way she had earned respect—not demanded it.
She's remarkable, he admitted inwardly. I've never met anyone like her.Dave's hand brushed over the surface of the desk, tracing the lines of the polished wood. He was careful to separate his admiration for her professionalism from the feelings growing quietly in his chest—but the boundary was blurring.
I respect her, yes—but I also want more.
He imagined asking her to join him for coffee, a simple, casual invitation to speak beyond the confines of the office. He imagined the possibility of learning about her life, her struggles, her dreams. She's endured so much. How did someone so strong come from a life so challenging?
Yet even as he thought of speaking to her, doubts crept in.
I hope she says yes. I hope she doesn't think I'm… too forward. I hope she sees I'm sincere.
His fingers tapped lightly on the desk, a rhythm of anticipation, of nerves he rarely allowed himself. The thought of Ruthie, of her agreeing to speak with him outside the professional walls, both excited and unnerved him. He realized, with startling clarity, that this was unfamiliar territory. He had never been… vulnerable like this.
He leaned back once more, studying her from afar. Ruthie sat at her desk, focused, unaware of the storm of admiration quietly brewing behind the office walls. Her brow furrowed slightly in concentration as she reviewed a shipment report, her hand moving with precision, her posture poised.
Dave felt an unfamiliar pull in his chest, a recognition that went beyond professional respect. He found himself wanting to see her smile, to hear her thoughts, to understand the woman behind the competence, the strength, and the quiet resilience.
She's more than just a capable employee, he thought. She's… remarkable. And I can't stop thinking about her.
The clock ticked steadily, marking the rhythm of the office. Dave's thoughts lingered on Ruthie, and he realized that he wanted more than professional interaction. He wanted the opportunity to speak with her—personally, genuinely, beyond the strict confines of work.
Tomorrow… I will find a way, he promised himself. I will speak to her. I will be careful, but I will try. I hope she says yes. I hope… she sees me for who I truly am.
For the first time in a long while, Dave allowed himself a quiet, private vulnerability. The carefully constructed walls he maintained around his life, his emotions, and his desires were cracking—not due to weakness, but because of Ruthie.
And as he turned back to his files, reviewing logistics reports, the thought lingered, subtle yet persistent:
Ruthie. She is not like anyone else. And I want to know her. Truly.