By the time she reached Arden Entertainment, the building gleamed under the soft evening light, grand and intimidating as ever. The receptionist recognized her instantly and directed her to the fifteenth floor. "Meeting Room," she said with a smile.
Alina slightly knocked on the door and opened it carefully, only to find herself in a brightly lit room with about a dozen people seated around a large oval table. At the head of the room stood the same lady from before, the one who had shown her around the exhibition.
"Oh, Miss Carter!" The lady's face lit up as she noticed her. "So nice to see you here. I'm so glad you came."
Alina smiled awkwardly and closed the door behind her. "You said it was important…"
"Yes, yes! Come in, please." The woman gestured her closer. "Everyone, this is the person I was telling you about, Miss Alina Carter."
Every pair of eyes turned toward her. Some smiled warmly, others curiously. Alina gave a small nod, still unsure what exactly she'd walked into.
"My name is Mrs. Evelyn Ross," the woman said with professional grace. "I'm the Creative Coordinator here at Arden Entertainment — the one overseeing the entire anniversary exhibition of Mr. Arden."
"Oh," Alina said, remembering her from that day. "Right… the one who made me tour every possible room."
Evelyn laughed lightly. "Exactly! The same one."
She turned to her team, gesturing toward Alina with an enthusiastic wave. "Now, everyone here knows how long we've been planning this event. But what you might not know is — this young lady here gave me one of the most creative, heartfelt suggestions we've had in months."
Alina blinked. "I… did?"
Evelyn's eyes sparkled. "Yes! The idea of giving a small gift to every visitor, something that lets them take a piece of Mr. Arden's warmth with them, honestly, we were missing that touch until you came along."
The room murmured in agreement. A man at the far end of the table added, "Yeah, that idea was brilliant''
Evelyn smiled and turned back to Alina. "So, Miss Carter, that's why I called you here."
Alina tilted her head slightly. "You wanted to… talk about the idea?"
"Not just talk," Evelyn said, walking closer and placing a file on the table. "I want to offer you a position. Temporarily, of course, until the exhibition opens."
Alina's eyes widened. "A position?"
"Yes," Evelyn nodded, her tone firm but friendly. We'd like you to join our team as a *Creative Event Assistant*. You'll help turn ideas into reality, brainstorm new concepts, manage displays, and coordinate with the fan departments, essentially ensuring the exhibition runs smoothly.''
Alina froze. "Wait, me? No, no, that can't be right. I'm not even… qualified for something like this."
Evelyn laughed softly. "Creativity doesn't need a degree, dear. And sometimes, the best ideas come from people who aren't tied down by the rules."
"But… I work at a café," Alina said awkwardly, holding up her hands as if to defend herself. "I'm just a part-timer. I make coffee, not plans."
Evelyn smiled knowingly. "Then consider this, making plans for coffee. You see, exhibitions are like recipes; they need flavor, warmth, and balance. You clearly understand that."
The room chuckled lightly, easing the tension. But Alina still looked uncertain. Cannot understand why they were trying to pull her into his world
"Please, have a seat," Evelyn said, pulling out a chair for her. "We'll explain everything."
Reluctantly, Alina sat down. Evelyn clicked the remote, and the projector screen lit up behind her, showing layouts of the upcoming exhibition, banners, and 3D models of rooms.
"As you can see," Evelyn began, pacing slowly, "We've finalized everything, and were confident enough about what we had prepared, but when I asked for the review, we didn't expect you to give us such great ideas.... She paused for a moment and continued ...but what you said the other day was really impressive and we decided to add it to our exhibition for the final touch''
Alina stood in a chair holding onto the armchair while listening to her like a child.
''But the problem is that we don't have time for that, as we guys are so busy with other projects. I want you to look over it on my behalf.''
"But why me?" Alina asked quietly.
Evelyn looked at her sincerely. "Because you see things differently. The moment you suggested giving fans a part of him to carry home, I knew you understood what this event is really about, and you can do this job perfectly''
A young man beside Evelyn nodded eagerly. "She's right. There are a few days left for the opening of the exhibition, and we don't have enough time to hire someone''
Evelyn folded her arms, smiling. "So, Miss Carter, would you do us the honor of joining our team, even if it's just part-time?"
Alina hesitated, playing with the strap of her bag. "I don't know… it's just… I've never worked in an office. I might mess things up."
A girl from the team leaned forward, grinning. "Trust me, we mess up all the time. You'll fit right in."
Everyone laughed again while seeing each other, and Alina couldn't help but smile a little.
"Please," Evelyn said warmly, "You won't have to be here full-time. You can continue your café job; we'll adjust the hours for you. And of course, you'll be compensated. Fairly."
Alina blinked. "You mean… I'll get paid?"
"Of course!" Evelyn said as if it were obvious.'' You're going to act on my behalf''
Alina's eyes widened. "What? Me?"
Evelyn nodded. "Yes. You''
The room went silent for a moment, all eyes on Alina. She looked from one face to another, all of them hopeful, encouraging, waiting for her to say yes.
"I…" she started softly. "I don't think I'm good at this kind of thing."
Evelyn chuckled. "Neither were most of us, when we started. What matters is your instinct."
"Please help us," one of the girls said, clasping her hands dramatically. ''We are doing this for Mr Arden! If you say no, then all of our hard work will be in vain''
All the eyes were fixed on Alina, expecting her to accept the proposal. She sighed, finally cracking a real smile. "You all are really not going to let me say no, are you?"
Evelyn grinned. "Not a chance."
Alina chuckled, rubbing the back of her neck. "Fine. I'll help… but only part-time. My café job still comes first."
"That's completely fine," Evelyn said cheerfully.
Everyone clapped lightly, and Alina blinked in surprise at the sudden applause. She laughed nervously. "This feels weird. I haven't even done anything yet."
"You said yes," Evelyn said. "That's already something."
She handed Alina a file and continued, "Inside, you'll find our upcoming timeline, list of departments, and some of the creative briefs. Just look over them when you can. You can start the work from tomorrow.
Alina took the file carefully, her fingers brushing over the gold Arden Entertainment logo on the cover. It all felt surreal. Like it was some kind of dream
Evelyn's expression softened. "And thank you again, truly. You're helping us so much."
Alina didn't quite know what to say. For the first time in a long while, someone had said something that made her feel… seen.
"Alright," Evelyn said, clapping her hands once. "That's all for today. Everyone, please add Miss Carter to the group."
"Yes, ma'am," the team chorused.
As the meeting dispersed, one of the guys smiled at her. ''Thank you."
Alina smiled back, shyly tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Evelyn walked her to the door. "I'm really glad you came today, Miss Carter. I think this is the beginning of something wonderful."
Alina looked down at the file in her hands, then back at Evelyn with a faint smile. "I hope so."
And as she stepped out of the meeting room, the thought quietly crossed her mind I wonder what he'd say if he knew I was working for his company now.
When Alina returned home from Arden Entertainment, she slipped off her heels at the door, the familiar ache in her feet whispering of the long day she'd had. As she bent down, her fingers brushed against the corner of the shoe rack, the same sharp edge that had always jabbed her ankle, leaving behind faint marks and quiet curses.
But this time… it didn't. She blinked, lowering her hand. The corner, the one she had always hated, was neatly covered. A strip of soft tape wrapped around it, carefully, precisely, as if someone had taken the time to protect her from the smallest sting.
For a long moment, she just stared at it, her breath caught somewhere between disbelief and tenderness. She had mentioned that pain once, absentmindedly, while grumbling after work. Just once. And someone had heard her. Someone had remembered.
Her throat tightened, a strange warmth blooming inside her chest. It wasn't grand gestures that undid her; it was these quiet ones.
The invisible ways someone had listened to her pain… and decided to make it vanish, silently, without asking for anything in return.
She placed her shoes neatly on the rack and whispered, almost to herself, "Why do you always notice the things I never say?"
After thinking for three hours and throwing all her clothes on the floor while standing in front of her wardrobe, she couldn't be able to find the type of clothes she needed to wear to the office tomorrow, and she decided to do something mischievous.
Alina stood in front of the sleek, dark wardrobe, her reflection faintly visible against the polished surface. She took a deep breath, glancing over her shoulder as though her mysterious roommate might suddenly appear and catch her red-handed. The room was immaculate, almost unnervingly so. Every corner was arranged with purpose, every book stacked by height, and the faint scent of cedar and coffee lingered in the air.
"When did this couch appear here?" she murmured, eyeing the soft, charcoal-gray couch placed neatly before the bed. She shook her head.
"Forget it," she reminded herself of why she was here. Clothes. Just clothes.
Her fingers curled around the wardrobe handle, pulling it open slowly. Inside, everything was arranged with military precision. Rows of crisp shirts hung perfectly aligned, organized by tone rather than color—black melted into charcoal, charcoal into slate gray, gray into navy blue, and finally, a few whites gleamed like rare light among shadows. There wasn't a single hint of color beyond those shades, no bright hues, no patterns. Just elegance, simplicity, and restraint.
She stared at the collection for a moment, both impressed and slightly intimidated. "Does he even own anything not black or white?" she muttered.
Her hand hesitated before plucking a white shirt from the rack. It was soft to touch, smelling faintly of his cologne, something rich and clean, like bergamot and fresh linen. The shirt was too large for her; she could already tell from the way the sleeves hung long past her wrists. Worse, the cuffs were missing buttons, as if it was never there.
Still, when she held it against herself in the mirror, she couldn't help but smile. The shirt wasn't just fabric; it carried something of him. Calm. Discipline. A quiet authority she couldn't define.
"Fine," she whispered, almost to the shirt itself, "you'll do for tomorrow."
And for a fleeting moment, standing there in the dim light of his closet, surrounded by monochrome order, she felt like she'd stepped into his world, one that was cold, collected, and yet strangely comforting.