Bose POV:
I arrived at work this morning with a sense of anticipation. What happened yesterday had left me with a renewed perspective on Chapa, and I couldn't shake the hope that I'd see her today. After everything we went through, I felt like I finally understood her better, and I hoped she understood me too. She had promised not to distance herself anymore, and while Chapa wasn't someone who broke promises easily, I was still curious to see if she'd keep her word.
The morning felt different. I woke up happier than usual, lighter somehow. It was strange to feel this way after all the uncertainty that had lingered between us for so long. Her words kept replaying in my mind, as did her presence, her confession. We both have yet to figure out what's really going on between us, but one thing was clear to me: I wanted to be with her. I felt more sure of that than anything else in my life at the moment.
I started the day by answering some emails that had piled up. Several people wrote to say how much they enjoyed the art exhibition, which was satisfying to hear. The students who contributed their work were incredibly talented, and it was rewarding to see their pieces being appreciated. The paintings that had been bought were scheduled for delivery today, and the payments had all come through. I made a mental note that the money needed to be deposited into the students' bank accounts, something Andrew would take care of.
Our company, still in its infancy at just a year old, was busy building something truly remarkable. The students here weren't just students; they were artists in the making, each working hard to develop their skills. They had to pay for their studies, which lasted at least two years, but they also earned money through their work. It was a unique system, and one that had already shown promising results. Once they felt they had reached their potential, they could decide whether to continue their education and learn more, or move on to higher roles within the company. We were still working on establishing the department for these more advanced positions, expecting it to be ready in about nine months. Once it was complete, we'd host bigger and more prestigious international events for these graduatesâevents that would elevate them from students to full-fledged employees of the company. They'd start receiving a standard salary, but would no longer be paid directly for each piece of work they produced. It was a significant shift, one that we needed to announce formally once all the details were finalized.
It was 10:51 a.m. when I called Bridget to ask if she could bring me a coffee. She knocked on my door a few minutes later, entered with the coffee, and left without saying much. Which was very unlike her. I took a sip of the coffee and was just settling into my work when there was another knock at the door. This time, it was Andrew.
"I deposited all the money to everyone's bank account," he said as he stepped into the room.
"Great, thanks!" I replied, grateful as always for his reliability.
"No problem," he said with a nod. Then his expression shifted, and I knew something else was coming. "Oh, and your stepfather just came by. I already told him you were in a meeting because I know you hate it when he drops in unannounced. But he left a messageâhe wants you to come to Swellview tonight, to his house, for dinner. He said he needs to talk to you about the company."
I sighed, the weight of my stepfather's expectations settling on my shoulders once again. I didn't respond immediately, just stared at my desk for a moment. Andrew, ever perceptive, knew how much I dreaded these meetings.
"I know," he said sympathetically, "but you should go anyway."
I sighed again, knowing he was right but not wanting to admit it. Then, Andrew added with a wry smile, "Now, I have good and bad news. Your stepdad wants me to come too."
"So that's the good news, I suppose?" I asked, my tone laced with sarcasm.
"Yeah, but the bad news is that my little sister is currently staying over at my house because our mom is on a business trip for a week," Andrew explained.
Andrew's family situation wasn't straightforward. His birth father had died when he was just 12 years old, a loss that had marked him deeply. His mother eventually remarried, and had Andrew's little sister, Lily. But her father left not long after finding out she was pregnant. This history of complicated family dynamics was something Andrew and I shared, and it was one of the reasons we became close. We understood each other in a way that few others did.
"So what are you going to do?" I asked, knowing that Andrew would always put his sister first.
"Well," Andrew started, rubbing the back of his neck, "I could tell your stepfather I can't make it, but that's not exactly ideal. Or, I need to find a babysitter for Lily. She always likes it when someone new comes to watch her, and frankly, she's been getting too much of me lately."
"Do you know any babysitters?" I asked, already trying to think of someone who could help out.
"I mean, I've got three friends who definitely wouldn't babysit her again after the last time, and other than that, I've got nothing," Andrew admitted, looking a little defeated.
"I really don't mind if you need to stay home with your little sister," I offered. "I can manage myself."
"Yeah, I know you can, but if we can arrange something, it would be a win-win situation. Lily has a break from me as her babysitter, you won't have to deal with your stepfather alone, and I won't have to miss out on a big free meal at the Vice Mayor's house," Andrew said with a grin. I couldn't help but laugh at that.
"But who do we ask? Since you're close with that Chapa girl, can't you ask her to babysit? I'll pay her so she can earn some extra money." Andrew said.
"First of all," I said quickly, "she hates kids. And do you honestly believe she can keep your little sister calm? Isn't Lily a handful? Besides, if you speak down to Chapa, trust me, you wouldn't dare do it ever again."
Andrew chuckled, nodding in agreement. "Yeah, that would get out of hand real fast. Okay, so what about that other childhood friend of yours? The one who's always gotta be the better one and annoys me so much? Her name was... Mika!"
"Mika's a good option," I conceded, "but she's busy. She doesn't necessarily need any extra money, and let's be real... if you guys don't like each other, do you really think she wants to babysit your little sister in her free time, if she even has that?"
"You're right," Andrew sighed. "But could you at least try asking her? She's maybe annoying, but she's not as scary as your girlfriend Chapa."
"She's not my girlfriend," I shot back quickly, more out of habit than conviction. The words felt heavy in my mouth, and I hated how much I wished they weren't true.
Andrew gave me a doubtful look, one that said he wasn't buying it. "Watch out or I won't call Mika," I warned him, half-joking.
He went silent, letting me have my way, and I dialed Mika's number. She picked up after a few rings.
"Hey Bose. What's up?" Mika's voice was as cheerful as ever, despite the early hour.
"Hey Mika, I had a favor to ask you," I began, hoping she was in a good mood.
"Go on," she said, her tone curious.
"Are you free tonight? Because I know someone who needs a babysitter and I wondered if you could help them out," I said, deliberately keeping Andrew's name out of it for the moment.
"Uhm, yeah I'm free. Sure," she agreed, surprising me with how quickly she accepted. Andrew, who was listening in, whispered that he'd pay her, and I relayed the message.
"Oh, well that's not necessary. How long do I have to babysit though? And who is the kid I need to babysit? This is all kinda random," she said, sounding a little suspicious.
"Well, my friend's eight-year-old little sister needs a babysitter since he has to be somewhere with me," I explained, trying to keep it vague.
"It's Andrew's little sister, isn't it?" she asked, her voice full of certainty. Andrew looked impressed by how quickly she figured it out.
"You're fast," I said, a little surprised myself.
"You know me," she replied with a hint of pride.
"Do you mind babysitting her? He needs to be at dinner with my stepfather and me tonight, and if it's really not possible for you, then he'll stay home. But that'll probably get him on my stepfather's bad side," I explained.
"No, it's okay, I'll babysit her," she said, her tone softening.
"Thank you, Mika," I said on behalf of Andrew, genuinely relieved.
"But on one condition," she added playfully.
"Okay..." I said cautiously.
"I want a salary of $100 per hour," she said with a laugh.
I laughed too, knowing she was just kidding. "Just kidding. What time do I need to be there? And his address?" she asked, getting serious again.
"Well, Andrew will pick her up from school around
4:00 p.m. and I'll have him text you the details."
"Okay, cool. And hey, no need to thank me, alright? Just don't get too nervous about having to see your stepfather again tonight," Mika comforted before hanging up. She knew about my complicated relationship with him.
Andrew, who had been listening the whole time, shook his head with a smile. "She really is a character," he said, half-amused and half-annoyed.
"Yeah, she is," I agreed, already thinking about how to handle the dinner with my stepfather. "Well, at least that's sorted."
"Thanks, Bose," Andrew said, his tone sincere.
"No problem," I replied, glad I could help him out.
As soon as Andrew left my office, my thoughts drifted back to Chapa, as they always seemed to do lately. I couldn't help but replay the events of yesterday in my mindâthe way she had leaned over me, how close we had been, both physically and emotionally. It was a first for me. I'd never felt this way about anyone before, and it was both exhilarating and terrifying. My head was full of her, and no matter how hard I tried to focus on work, I couldn't push her from my mind.
The morning moved slowly, and I found myself staring at my phone, hoping for a message from her. But nothing came. I knew I was being unreasonable; she was probably busy with her own work, just as I should have been. But still, I couldn't help but wish she'd reach out. Then I decided to start drawing.
My phone rang suddenly, pulling me out of my thoughts. I glanced at the screen and saw it was George Davis. He and I had known each other for years, and he was always sniffing around for talent. Lately, it seemed like he had taken an interest in Chapa, and that made me uneasy. I answered the call, my tone polite but guarded.
"Hey, George. What's up?" I asked, trying to keep the conversation casual.
"Bose, my man!" he greeted me, which surprised me. His voice as smooth as ever. "I need a favor from you."
"What kind of favor?" I asked, already feeling my guard go up.
"Nothing major. I just need Chapa's personal phone number. I've been trying to reach it, but couldn't get a hold of it. I need her at my office tomorrow for the job offer." he said.
I hesitated, feeling a pang of protectiveness. "I don't have it," I lied smoothly. "But if you want, I can tell her you're looking for her, and share your information."
There was a pause on the other end of the line, and I could almost hear George calculating his next move. "Alright, that works too," he said finally, his tone a little less enthusiastic.
"No problem," I replied, and hung up the phone. I didn't trust George, and I wasn't about to let him involve Chapa in whatever scheme he was cooking up.
After hanging up, I immediately called Bridget and asked her to fetch Chapa for me. She didn't question it, just did as I asked.
A few minutes later, there was a soft knock on the door, and Chapa walked in. She looked as stunning as ever, even though it was early in the day. She wore a simple but elegant outfit that only seemed to accentuate her natural beauty.
"You called for me?" she asked, her tone neutral but her eyes curious.
"Yeah, George Davis just called," I said, gesturing for her to sit down. "He was asking for your number. I told him I didn't have it, but he wants to meet with you tomorrow to discuss the job offer."
Chapa raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by my distrust. "You don't trust him?" she asked, a small smile playing on her lips.
"I think he's onto something, but I can't seem to figure out what," I admitted, unable to keep the jealousy from creeping into my voice.
Chapa laughed softly, shaking her head. "You worry too much. And you really don't need to look out for me," she said, her tone sincere.
I nodded, feeling a little relieved. "Congratulations on the job, by the way," I said, trying to focus on the positive.
"Thanks," she said, her smile growing wider. "But I'm not accepting it just yet."
"Why not?" I asked, genuinely curious.
"Because I'm not sure if it's the right move for me," she said, her tone thoughtful. "There's a lot to consider."
I nodded, understanding her hesitation. "Well, whatever you decide, I'm sure it'll be the right choice."
Chapa didn't respond immediately, just looked at me for a moment, as if she was weighing something in her mind. Then, without warning, she reached out and placed her hand on mine. The gesture was so simple, yet it sent a jolt of electricity through me. I looked up at her, my heart pounding in my chest.
"Thanks," she said softly, her eyes never leaving mine.
I swallowed hard, trying to focus on the here and now. "I, uh, drew something for you," I said, my voice a little shaky. I reached for the drawing in one of the drawers of my desk that I had made of her.
I handed her the drawing, feeling a bit unsure. "You can have it if you want. It's nothing special, just something simple," I said, trying to keep it casual.
She studied it for a moment. "It might be simple, but I like your style. I didn't even know you were into drawing. That's still a bit of a surprise to me."
Her words made me feel a bit more at ease. "Well, I remember how much you used to draw when we were younger, and you always seemed so happy doing it. So, I tried it myself a few times, hoping I could feel the same way. But I never showed anyoneâyour drawings were amazing, and mine were just rough sketches."
Her expression softened as she looked at me. "So, you started drawing because you weren't happy?"
I nodded slightly, feeling like I was letting her see a part of me I usually kept hidden. "Yeah, I guess that's true."
She seemed genuinely concerned, her gaze steady. "You never told me you were unhappy sometimes."
I shrugged, trying to downplay it. "Aren't we all sometimes?"
"Sure, but still," she pressed, "we were close. I've seen your notebook and the dates. If you only drew when you were unhappy, it must've been a long time you felt that way."
Her words made me pause. I hadn't really thought about it like that. "Yeah," I admitted, "with my stepfather around, things weren't easy. But I figured out how to deal with it."
She didn't seem convinced, her concern still clear. "Are you sure? I mean, you did make this drawing of me."
I met her gaze, feeling a mix of emotions. "I always draw what makes me happy. And whether I'm truly happy or not, seeing you succeed yesterday made me feel better."
She smiled at that, and it felt like a small victory. "You really captured my look."
I felt a warmth in my chest. "Yeah, I couldn't take my eyes off you. You were just... too beautiful to look away from."
She smiled, though I noticed a hint of embarrassment. "Sorry," I quickly said, feeling like I'd overstepped.
"It's okay. Besides, I can agree with you," she said with a grin that eased the tension.
I couldn't help but smile back, and in a moment of quiet connection, I rested my head on her shoulder. "You kept your promise," I said quietly, feeling a warmth spread through me. I couldn't see her face, but I could sense the smile that followed my words.
"Well, it would be hard to break it," she replied after a moment, her voice light but sincere.
I smiled, feeling a strange mix of contentment and longing. This was the Chapa I remembered, the one I had missed for so long. But before I could dwell on it, she gently pulled away. "I should get going now, or else there'll be suspicion," she said with a playful wink.
"Yeah, you're right," I agreed, reluctantly letting her go.
We said our goodbyes, and as she walked away, I couldn't help but feel that something significant had shifted between us. Watching her leave, I realized that whatever was happening between us, it was far from over. And maybe, just maybe, that was exactly what I wanted.