The rhythm at Orion System slowly began to even out. Weeks after the reshuffling, the new seating plan no longer felt strange. Jeanna's routine found its pattern — mornings started with Clara's short briefings, afternoons filled with quiet typing, and evenings ended with the soft hum of the office fading as the city lights took over.
From her new seat, Jeanna could see everything — the glass wall of the meeting room, the coffee counter where people whispered office gossip, and directly across from her, Ethan, who was part of Team Zephyr. He often stood up for a quick stretch, rolled his shoulders, or adjusted his headset. Each small movement caught her peripheral vision no matter how hard she tried not to look.
She told herself it was just because of proximity. That's all.
But sometimes, when he stood and caught her looking, he'd smile a little — polite, unassuming, the kind of smile that could be mistaken for warmth. Jeanna never returned it fully. She'd just glance away, pretending to be preoccupied with her monitor, silently thinking, Of course he smiles like that. People like him always know when someone's looking.
Ethan's reputation had quietly spread across departments. Some said he was Team Zephyr's ace — fast learner, steady performer, and easy to get along with. Jeanna didn't doubt it, but she also believed that charm was often part of the skillset. After all, she'd seen it before — the way attractive people could play nice when it suited them.
She wasn't about to get fooled by that.
---
Their supervisor, Clara Reyes, ran Team Astra with calm authority. She was newly promoted, having taken over after their previous leader's reassignment, and though her tone was kind, her eyes missed nothing. Jeanna admired that about her — firm but composed, not someone who raised her voice, yet everyone knew when she meant business.
The morning Clara announced a joint coordination with Team Zephyr, the air in the sales department seemed to tense just slightly. Even the way Clara greeted Vincent Chua, Zephyr's leader, felt careful. Vincent had the aura of someone always measuring — the kind of person who smiled politely but spoke like every word was weighed first. His team respected him, but there was something subtly guarded about his leadership.
During the meeting, Clara discussed new client targets while Vincent listened with folded arms. The exchange was polite, but Jeanna sensed it — a quiet friction. Two competent leaders, both wanting the best for their teams, both unwilling to yield too easily.
When the discussion ended, Clara smiled, but her tone held its edge. "Let's make sure both teams stay aligned. We're all under the same department, after all."
Vincent's reply was courteous, smooth, but unmistakably proud. "Of course. As long as efficiency isn't compromised."
The meeting ended with nothing overt — no raised voices, no harsh tones — yet Jeanna could almost feel the invisible line drawn between Team Astra and Team Zephyr.
Later that day, as she worked on a product summary report, her sheet formulas began acting up. No matter how many times she recalculated, the totals wouldn't align. She leaned back, sighing quietly. Across the aisle, Ethan was reviewing client records, typing smoothly with his headset on. He'd probably fix this in two minutes, she thought before shaking her head. Not asking. Not my team.
But after ten more minutes of trying, she gave in. Trixie had gone to the pantry; Clara was on a call. She stood, notebook in hand, and walked over to Ethan's side.
"Hey," she said softly, "sorry to interrupt. I just—uh—this formula's not summing properly. I think I missed something in the setup."
Ethan looked up, removing one earbud. "Sure," he said easily, turning his monitor toward her. "Show me?"
As Jeanna pointed at the rows, he leaned in slightly, his eyes scanning quickly. But before he could touch the keyboard, Jeanna noticed the subtle shift in his posture. His gaze flicked toward Vincent, who was standing by their section divider, observing quietly.
Ethan gave her a faint, almost apologetic smile and tapped twice on his desk, a small gesture that said, Not now.
Then he whispered, "I'll check later. Vincent's… kind of watching."
Jeanna froze for a second, understanding dawning on her face. "Ah," she murmured. "Got it. Thanks anyway."
He smiled again — this time softer, more genuine. "Sorry," he mouthed.
When she went back to her desk, she found Trixie already back from the pantry, sipping coffee. "Did you ask him for help?" Trixie asked, grinning. "He looked like he wanted to come over."
Jeanna shrugged, focusing on her screen. "He couldn't. Vincent's the type who doesn't want his people distracted."
Trixie frowned. "What do you mean?"
"You didn't notice?" Jeanna asked, lowering her voice. "He watches their team like a hawk. I think he's pretty territorial about who they help or talk to."
Trixie blinked, genuinely surprised. "Really? I thought he was just… serious. I mean, that makes sense, though. I guess every leader protects their team in their own way."
"Maybe," Jeanna said, half-smiling. "But sometimes, it feels more like a rule than a preference."
Trixie laughed quietly. "You're really observant, huh?"
"I just notice things," Jeanna replied simply. "It helps to know who you're working around."
---
The next week, Vincent took a few days off for an off-site meeting. The entire department seemed to exhale in relief — even Zephyr's members looked lighter. That was when Ethan became more visible around their area, chatting with other teams or lending a hand when someone needed clarification.
One afternoon, when Jeanna was struggling with a report merge, Ethan stopped by her desk.
"Still stuck on formulas?" he asked, smiling lightly.
Jeanna looked up, amused. "Is it that obvious?"
He chuckled. "I saw your screen flicker red twice. That's the universal distress signal in Excel."
She laughed under her breath, shaking her head. "You noticed that much?"
He nodded, pulling a spare chair beside her. "Here—see this cell? You forgot to anchor the array here. That's why the range keeps resetting."
She watched as he adjusted the code, explaining it patiently. His voice was calm, low, the kind that carried quiet assurance. "It's not about memorizing formulas," he said. "It's about knowing what they're supposed to do for you."
When he finished, Jeanna tested it herself — and the totals aligned perfectly.
"Thanks," she said. "You make it sound easy."
"Practice," he replied, leaning back. "You'll get there."
Trixie, who'd been pretending to focus on her screen, whispered later, "You two look like a mentor and apprentice from some office romance drama."
Jeanna gave her a blank stare. "It was just Excel."
Trixie grinned. "That's how it starts."
Jeanna sighed but smiled faintly. She's impossible.
Still, as Jeanna packed up later that evening, she realized something — Ethan hadn't acted the way she expected. No hint of showing off, no teasing charm. Just patient, straightforward help. It wasn't flirtation. It was… decency.
And yet, as she sat in the bus watching the city lights flicker, she remembered his quiet smile and how he mouthed "Sorry" the first time he couldn't help her.
She didn't know why, but it lingered — not as excitement, but as a small warmth she couldn't quite explain.
---