Chapa POV:
I just woke up in Bose's penthouse, quickly checking to see if he was lying next to me. Thankfully, he wasn't. I felt relieved and then glanced across the bedroom to see him sitting in a chair, sleeping. The clock read 6 amâvery early. It was Sunday, and I had a lot to prepare for the art exhibition on Wednesday. I decided to wake up Bose because he probably had to work today, and I was in desperate need of some breakfast. I shook him awake, and he jumped a little.
"What's happening?" he mumbled, looking disoriented.
I couldn't help but laugh. "You should see the way you wake up. It's hilarious."
"Don't laugh," he said, but he smiled, his eyes still half-closed.
"Can you make some breakfast for me? I don't know where anything is in your kitchen," I asked.
He sighed but got up and headed to the kitchen. As he washed his hands and started making some eggs, I struck up a conversation. "I never got to thank you for protecting Sage and helping us out."
"It was no trouble at all," he replied, cracking eggs into a pan.
"What are you planning to do with Elena?" I asked, trying to sound casual.
"I removed her from the system last night and mailed Ms. Ambrose she quit. That way, other paintings can have a place at the exhibition," he said, flipping the eggs with a practiced hand. "By the way, your painting was the best I saw out of all of them."
"You barely even looked at it," I retorted.
He chuckled. "I didn't want to look at it back then because you didn't want to see me anymore, but of course, I saw it when you were out of the classroom. You might really have a chance of selling it for a lot."
"You're just saying that because we're friends," I said, doubting his compliment.
"So, we're friends now?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Yeah, you can say that," I replied.
We both went quiet, a comfortable silence settling between us. After a minute, he served the eggs. "Here you go."
"Thanks," I said.
"I'm going to get ready, alright? I'll see you in a bit." Bose said.
It was now 6:30 am. I ate my breakfast, enjoying the rare moment of peace.
After a while, I realized my phone was still in Bose's bedroom. I knocked on the door and slowly walked inside. Bose was probably still in the bathroom. I searched for my phone but didn't see it. Suddenly, Bose emerged from the bathroom, fresh from a shower with a towel wrapped around his waist.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, surprised.
"Looking for my phone," I stammered, feeling my face heat up.
"It's on the table in the living room," he said, his eyes twinkling with amusement.
I couldn't help but stare at his muscular chest and defined abs. His skin was glistening with water droplets, and his shoulders were broad and strong. The sight of him made my heart race. I never knew Bose had this kind of body.
"Oh, okay," I said, but my eyes were still on his muscular body that drew all my attention.
Bose chuckled softly. "See something you like?"
"Shut up," I muttered, feeling my cheeks burn. Then I quickly turned to leave, trying to hide my embarrassment.
As I walked away, I couldn't help but think about how awkward yet strangely comfortable it felt to be around him.
Bose POV:
After I showered, I chose an outfit that struck the perfect balance between professional and relaxed elegance. I selected a pair of dark blue trousers that were perfectly tailored, fitting me just right. They were snug but comfortable, tapering down to my ankles in a way that accentuated my height. I paired the trousers with a pristine white shirt. I decided to roll up the sleeves to just below my elbows. I left the top two buttons of my shirt undone. Instead of a jacket, I opted for a tie that matched the deep blue of my pants, its silk texture catching the light subtly as I adjusted it in the mirror. The tie was a rich, vibrant blue, complementing the darker shade of my pants.
Satisfied with my appearance, I stepped out of my bedroom and into the living room, still adjusting my tie. Chapa was sitting on the couch, and when she glanced up at me, her cheeks turned a faint pink before she quickly turned away. I couldn't help but smile, finding her reaction endearing. She had never seen me dressed like that before, and it felt strangely intimate, almost exposing, but with Chapa, it was different.
It was now 7 a.m., and Chapa yawned, clearly still tired from the events of the previous day. "You can stay here and rest if you want, or you can go back to your apartment," I suggested. "But I know you like my bed more than your own, so you might consider staying."
She shook her head. "No, I need to go to the art academy. I have to work on my presentation and prepare for the art exhibition."
Students are expected there every day except on the weekends, but students are allowed to work on their art during the weekends too, especially since Ms. Ambrose isn't always there to criticize them.
I nodded, understanding her dedication. "Alright, let's get going then."
As I drove us to my company, the car was filled with a comfortable silence. My mind wandered to Scarâor Sam. "So... do you know what happened between Elena and Sam?" I asked, breaking the silence.
"Yeah, he basically helped her to slowly ruin my life. They pretended to be dating so he could take revenge on me. She didn't tell him my identity, though," she said, her voice tinged with bitterness.
I was shocked. "What's this man's problem? How can anyone treat youâor anyoneâlike this? And why did he even want to take revenge on you?" I added gently, "You don't have to tell me if you don't feel comfortable."
She sighed, her annoyance evident. "I broke up with him because I found out he kissed a girl at a party when he was drunk."
I shook my head, disbelief coursing through me. "Why haven't you told me this before, Chapa?"
"It's very personal and wasn't relevant to tell you," she said.
"Still, we were really close back then. You could've told me," I pressed, trying to understand why she had kept this from me.
"I didn't want to bother you with it, and I don't want to talk about it even now," she said firmly.
"Okay," I said gently. "But I'm firing him today."
She turned quickly to face me. "What? But Bose, you can't fire him already, right? You just hired him. Not that I care, he's an asshole, but still."
"I don't care," I said resolutely. "What he did to you was outrageous and unacceptable. I don't want someone with that kind of personality in my company."
As we walked into the building, Bridget hurried over with her little notebook. "Mr. O'Brien, I'm so glad you're back!" she said enthusiastically. Then she noticed Chapa, and her expression shifted from excitement to irritation.
"Woah, you're happy to see me," Chapa said sarcastically. I let out a little laugh.
Bridget rolled her eyes. "You have a lot of work to do today," she said to me, ignoring Chapa. I said goodbye to Chapa, she walked away and I watched the elevator doors close behind her.
Bridget started briefing me on the day's agenda. "There's a short meeting later this afternoon for the upcoming art exhibitions, since Elena Benson quit. And you also need to approve which designed fashion items by our students will be in our newest collection. There's also going to be a fashion show to introduce the new collection. Andrew has already taken care of the invitations and the organizers for the fashion show."
"Okay great. Andrew will be there to assist me with approving the items right?" I asked Bridget.
"Yeah, don't worry, he will." she said and gave me a soft smile.
Andrew always helps me with approving the fashion items. He's always been invested in fashion and is meticulous about these things. And Andrew's critiques are perfect. Along with two other womenâthe new hire and another who has been with us for a while.
"I'll head to my office now," I said to Bridget. "Please call the new music teacher, Sam Williams. I need to have a conversation with him in my office."
Bridget raised an eyebrow, clearly curious. "Why?"
"I need to talk to him," I repeated. "Please don't ask questions. Just bring him to my office." I added a polite "please" to soften the command.
As I headed to my office, I mentally prepared for the conversation I was about to have with Sam, knowing it wouldn't be pleasant but was absolutely necessary.
Sam just came into my office. I hate firing people; in fact, I believe I've never actually fired anyone before. But Sam deserved it. When he entered and sat down, I didn't waste time with pleasantries.
"I'm sorry..." I began, but I wasn't. "to tell you this, but you're fired. I know you just got here, and you'll get this month's payment, but I'd like you to leave this instant."
Sam didn't seem overly hurt or surprised, just a little taken aback. "Okay, but what's the reason? What did I do wrong?" he asked.
You did a lot wrong, I thought. But I wanted to avoid bringing Chapa into this conversation to keep him from targeting her further. "I heard some rumors about you that turned out to be true, and I've found a better teacher. Also, we don't need someone like you in our company," I said simply.
He scoffed, "This is ridiculous."
I remained firm. "You can choose to be fired or to quit yourself. I'll offer you some extra money over your salary this month," I offered. It wasn't much by my standards, but for him, it was significant. He immediately turned quiet and said he'd happily quit. I told him to pack his stuff and leave today.
As soon as he left my office, I began drafting an email to inform the other employees that Sam had quit due to personal reasons. I called Bridget in to brief her on the situation.
"He quit?" she asked, bewildered. "Why? He seemed like an excellent option, and now we need to find a new teacher. We still need to find a teacher for singing too."
"I'll look into it," I assured her. Glancing at my agenda, I noted that I had to go to the fashion department to approve the new items.
When I arrived at the fashion department, I saw Andrew already waiting. We greeted each other and began making our rounds with the two other women, who mostly took notes. Andrew provided his thoughts on each piece, meticulously writing everything down on his iPad. Andrew is always very organized.
I let Andrew take the lead because he enjoys this process. "I'll approve the ones you approve," I told him with a smile. He grinned and continued his evaluations.
My company is called Williard Enterprises, named after my stepfather. Our fashion brand is called after my mom, Celia. It's a well-known fashion brand in America, though many don't know that the designs originate from my company. We send our designs to a fabrication facility located in Swellview, which is, of course, owned by my stepfather. They produce the designed items and sell them on our site, or bring them to warehouses.
Andrew and I went through the collection methodically. He critiqued each piece with a discerning eye, noting the strengths and potential improvements. The two women accompanying us.
"These are looking great," Andrew said, holding up a sleek black dress with intricate silver embroidery. "I think this one will be a hit."
"I agree," I said, admiring the craftsmanship. "Let's approve it."
We moved on to the next item, a bold red blazer with unique cutouts. "This one's daring," Andrew remarked, "but it could set a new trend."
"Let's take the risk," I decided. "Approve it."
By the end of our session, we had a solid list of approved items for the upcoming collection. "Good work, everyone," I said. "Let's make this fashion show our best one yet."
Andrew smiled, pleased with our progress. "Always a pleasure when you let me take the lead, Bose."
"You know you care way more about this kind of stuff than me," I replied. "Now, let's announce the items that'll be in the new collection."
Andrew and I gathered the students and announced the items that would be featured in our new collection. The students whose designs were selected were visibly ecstatic, their faces lighting up with joy and pride. We congratulated them, and the room buzzed with excitement.
After the announcement, Andrew and I walked away from the fashion department. "Can you arrange the models for the fashion show?" I asked him. "Now that we have our collection together, we can see which models will fit best."
"Absolutely," Andrew replied, always ready for a challenge. "I'll get on it right away."
I headed back to my office, where the more tedious tasks awaited. First on the list was handling everything related to Sam and Elena. I composed a detailed email to the HR department, explaining the situation and ensuring all necessary paperwork was processed for Sam's departure. I also drafted an email to Ms. Ambrose, officially informing her of Elena's removal from the system and explaining that her spot in the upcoming art exhibition would be made available for other artists.
Next, I turned my attention to our search for new music teachers. I sent a memo to the marketing team, instructing them to post a job announcement on our website. I outlined the qualifications we were looking for and emphasized the urgency of filling the position.
As I typed, Bridget knocked on my door and entered with her notebook in hand. "Mr. O'Brien, I have the schedule for the rest of the day," she said, handing me a printout.
I glanced over the schedule. "Thank you, Bridget. Please make sure the marketing team gets that job announcement out as soon as possible."
"Already on it," she replied, before leaving the office.
I took a moment to stretch and glanced out the window, my mind briefly drifting to Chapa. I hoped she was doing well at the art academy, preparing for her exhibition. The thought of Sam and Elena's betrayal still lingered, but I pushed it aside, focusing on the tasks at hand.
Back at my desk, I continued working through the list. I sent a follow-up email to the production team, ensuring they had all the approved designs and were ready to start manufacturing.
By the time I finished, it was already 3PM. I decided to take a short break and grabbed a coffee from the café. As I sipped the warm beverage, I thought about the upcoming fashion show. It was always a highlight, we've now had three successful fashion shows, this will be our fourth, to showcase our latest designs and setting new trends. Suddenly my phone buzzed with a new message. Glancing at the screen, I was surprised to see it was from Chapa. We hadn't made any specific plans, and it was unusual for her to reach out in the middle of the day.
"Hey, what time are you finished with work today?" she had written.
I quickly typed back, "I should be done by 5."
There was a brief pause before her next message came through. "Great! Are you able to hang out after work?"
A smile spread across my face. Despite the hectic day, the thought of spending time with Chapa was a welcome change of pace. I typed my response without hesitation, "Yes, of course. What do you have in mind?"
Her reply was quick. "Let's go the arcade like the old days and maybe catch up on everything. It's been a while since we just hung out."
"Sounds perfect," I responded, feeling a warmth spread through me. "I'll be at the lobby at 5." she messaged. With that plan set, I felt a renewed energy.
Returning to my office, I found an email from Andrew. He had already begun arranging the models and had a few promising candidates lined up. I replied, expressing my appreciation for his quick work, and scheduled a meeting with him later in the week to finalize the details.
The rest of the afternoon was a blur of meetings and emails. We decided to choose a few paintings for the art exhibition that first were put on sale. And we'll announce later who's will be put on sale, instead of the ones that are now going to be displayed at the art exhibition.
I met with the finance team to discuss budgets, reviewed marketing strategies for the new collection, and even managed to squeeze in a quick call with a potential music teacher candidate.
After work, I met Chapa in the lobby, and we headed to my car. We decided to drive to the arcade in Rivalton city center. The energy in the car was relaxed, a nice change from the chaos of the day.
As soon as we entered the arcade, Chapa grabbed my arm and dragged me to the racing cars. "Come on, let's do this," she said with an excited grin.
"But you always win," I reminded her as we settled into the seats.
"Well, you've gotten smarter and bigger now. Maybe you can defeat me," she teased.
"I doubt it," I replied, but I still sat down and got ready.
We raced against each other, and I tried to keep up, but she was far ahead of me. After three rounds, she won the race, cheering and smiling widely.
"I told you you'd win," I said, genuinely happy to see her so joyful.
She laughed and, still holding my arm, pulled me towards the basketball pit. "This isn't fair," I sighed. "You're definitely going to win this. You're the best basketball player I know."
She just smiled and shrugged. Despite knowing I stood no chance, I joined in because it was fun. Chapa nailed every shot, while I only managed to get five out of twenty.
She tried to hold in her laughter but couldn't. "Don't laugh!" I said, but she was already in stitches.
Then she noticed the boxing game. A crowd of teenagers was gathered around it. One of them recognized me. "Hey, aren't you Bose O'Brien? I know you."
"Yes, that's me," I said.
They expressed their admiration while Chapa and I focused on the boxing sack. The highest score was 1073, and Chapa was determined to break the record. She challenged me, thinking I'd max out at 900.
I went first, hitting the sack with all my strength. The score reached 1081. The teens around us were wide-eyed, and Chapa looked shocked.
"Bose, what? How are you so strong? You just beat the highest score," she exclaimed.
"My little secret," I said with a wink.
Now it was Chapa's turn. The boys around us were skeptical. One muttered, "She's a girl, she can't beat past 700."
Chapa turned around, clearly angry. "What did you just say?" she demanded.
"You're a girl. I bet you can't beat past 700," the teen repeated.
Chapa's temper flared, but I stepped in. "Just show them," I said calmly, handing her a coin.
She took a deep breath and focused. The boys were still laughing, but Chapa punched the sack with all her strength. The score kept climbing and finally stopped at 1108.
The boys were astonished, one even dropped his ice cream. "Woah, what? Do you have super strength or something?" they exclaimed.
I smiled proudly. "I won again," Chapa said, looking at me with a triumphant grin.
"She's so cool! Is she your girlfriend?" one of the teens asked.
"No," I said, laughing awkwardly.
"You're missing out," they said, now turning their attention to Chapa. They asked her name, and she basked in the attention, which I was happy about. I didn't always like being in the spotlight.
As the evening progressed, we played more games, laughed, and enjoyed each other's company. It was refreshing to see Chapa so happy and to share our
time together. It reminded me of the old days.