Chapter 4
The next evening, after another round of overtime, Lorraine dragged her aching legs out of the office building. The city lights sparkled all around, but they did nothing to lift the fog of exhaustion and frustration clouding her mind.
Just as she stepped through the revolving glass doors, her expression changed in an instant.
Under a bare sycamore tree nearby stood her least favorite person in the world - Dylan.
A cigarette dangled between his fingers, while several butts littered the ground by his feet, clear proof he'd been waiting a while. The moment he spotted her, he stubbed out the cigarette, slapped on a smile he clearly thought looked affectionate, and rushed over.
"Lorraine! Finally, you're off work. I've been waiting out here forever."
That pseudo-caring tone made her skin crawl with disgust.
She didn't even spare him a glance, sidestepping him and marching straight toward the subway station.
"Lorraine! Come on, don't be like this. Can't we just talk?" Dylan caught up and tried to grab her arm. "I messed up, I get it. But give me one more chance, please..."
Lorraine yanked her arm back, her voice cutting like ice. "Dylan, do you not understand plain words? There's nothing left to talk about. Disappear already. Stop showing up like this!"
Her words landed hard. Dylan's fake smile froze. "Disappear? Come on, how can you say that? I'm just worried about you. It's late, I didn't want you walking alone - "
Lorraine could feel her chest tighten with rage. She didn't say another word, just sped up and practically ran into the upscale mall next to their office building.
She remembered there was an elevator that led straight to the underground garage - away from him.
Luckily, a security guard stopped Dylan at the entrance, so he couldn't chase after her right away.
Lorraine squeezed into the glass lift just as the doors were about to shut behind her. There weren't many people inside.
Pressing her back against the cold glass, Lorraine let out a silent sigh. She felt so drained. Was it really that hard to live a peaceful life?
Then her phone buzzed.
Unknown number again.
Frustration spiked and she picked up, her tone sharp: "Dylan, seriously, when are you going to get the hint? I'm done with you. Even hearing your voice makes me sick. Leave me the hell alone!"
She wanted to be vicious enough that he'd finally get it. But the line went oddly quiet. Right as she was about to hang up, a calm, unemotional voice came through.
"Seems like I've interrupted Miss Cromwell's private affairs."
Lorraine froze. All the blood in her veins seemed to go cold.
That voice. Tristan?! Why on earth was he calling her?
Embarrassment hit like a crashing wave, swallowing her whole. She wanted nothing more than to vanish into thin air.
"M - Mr. Seymour, I- I didn't know it was you..." Her panicked explanation stumbled over itself.
"I'm in the parking garage." Tristan's voice was as calm and unreadable as ever. Then he hung up.
The elevator happened to arrive at the basement level just then. Lorraine looked up and spotted a sleek black Maybach parked quietly nearby.
The back window lowered halfway, revealing Tristan's sharp, chiseled side profile. He didn't look at her, eyes fixed on the tablet in his hands.
Meanwhile, Alexander stood by the car, smiling warmly as he gestured for her to come over.
Lorraine practically stumbled her way over in a mess of nerves.
"Mr. Seymour, I'm sorry - just now, I didn't realize it was you..." she murmured, standing outside the window with her head lowered, voice barely above a whisper.
Tristan finally looked up from his tablet, glancing at her casually.
"Get in." He didn't say more, but the tone left no room for argument.
Lorraine didn't dare say anything else. Swallowing hard, she reached for the car door and climbed in.
Even though the backseat was spacious, she felt like she couldn't breathe properly, like the air was too heavy to inhale.
Alexander hopped into the passenger seat, and the car rolled smoothly out of the garage. Nobody said a word.
It wasn't until they neared her apartment block that Alexander turned around with a grin, like he'd just remembered something. "Lorraine, if you're working late, feel free to book a company car through admin. Or just let me know. Safety comes first, after all - and Mr. Seymour wouldn't want our best employees bothered by personal drama."
His tone was all polite concern, but Lorraine immediately caught on to the word "personal." Her cheeks heated up again. Was he hinting at Dylan showing up earlier? Was that from Tristan?
Tightly grabbing her jacket hem, she mumbled, "Thanks, I'll keep that in mind."
When the car pulled up at her gated community, Lorraine wasted no time bolting out as fast as she could.
The next morning, Lorraine arrived at the office a good thirty minutes early, hoping to avoid any drama at the front entrance.
But the second she stepped into the open-office floor, she could feel something was off.
A few girls from PR - the ones who usually lived for gossip - were huddled together whispering. When they noticed Lorraine, their eyes slid over with barely-veiled curiosity and smirks, then just as quickly darted away.
"Wait, for real? Lorraine got into Mr. Seymour's car that late?"
"Never would've guessed. She's always so chill."
"Guess people really do surprise you..."
The fragmented whispers floated through the air, hitting Lorraine like a ton of bricks. So they were talking about last night. Someone saw them? The very thing she was dreading had happened.
In a place where rumors could ruin you overnight, anything that hinted at being too close with the boss was basically asking to get thrown under the bus.
Lorraine bit her bottom lip hard, keeping her head low as she rushed to her desk. Booting up her computer, she pretended to focus, but inside, her thoughts were all over the place.
That entire day, her mind was elsewhere, and her productivity tanked.
As soon as the end-of-day bell rang, she practically bolted from her desk. She didn't want to risk bumping into anyone in the elevator, so she took the stairs down a few flights before switching over to the passenger lift.
But of course, what you fear the most tends to happen first.
When the elevator stopped at one floor, the doors slid open to reveal Dylan, holding a tacky bouquet of red roses.
"Lorraine! I knew I'd catch you!" He shoved his way forward without waiting for an invitation.
Lorraine quickly hit the close button, panic in her voice. "Get lost! I don't want to see you!"
But Dylan, relying on brute strength, forced his way in anyway. The elevator beeped in protest over the weight, which he completely ignored, and shoved the bouquet into her arms. "Lorraine, come on, hear me out. I've made a reservation at your favorite place..."
"Take this garbage back! I don't want it!" Lorraine swerved away like he was handing her something disgusting. "Dylan, if you don't stop, I'm calling security!"
The tension inside the elevator was unbearable. Just as Lorraine was about to completely lose it, they finally reached the first floor.
She shoved him and the flowers aside with all her strength and ran out of the building without looking back. There was no way she could go home. She was scared Dylan would keep stalking her, and she couldn't deal with the weird stares and gossip in the office either.
Almost instinctively, she ended up back at the office building. Maybe the only place she could breathe right now was the empty workspace.
Lorraine sat in front of the monitor, but her mind was too messy to get any real work done.
Time crawled by. Outside, the sky had turned pitch black, and the whole floor was dead quiet. Only the faint hum of the air conditioning broke the silence.
It wasn't until after nine that she finally shut down her computer, barely keeping her eyes open, and packed up to leave.
But apparently, bad luck was stuck to her like glue.
Halfway down, the elevator jerked violently with a loud metal screech, the lights flickered crazily, and then - stopped completely. It was stuck between floors.
"Ah!" Lorraine gasped, slamming the door and floor buttons in a frenzy before hitting the emergency call button - but nothing responded.
The pitch-dark, closed-off space was suffocating. All she could hear was her own panicked breathing. Helplessness and dread crashed over her like a wave.
Lorraine slid down to the cold floor, buried her face in her arms, feeling completely out of control and small. She lost track of time. Maybe it was just fifteen minutes, maybe an hour - it felt endless.
Then faint sounds came from outside. Probably the repair team.
A few more minutes passed, and some noise came from above. A thin beam of light pierced the darkness.
The elevator door slowly edged open from outside.
"Is there someone inside? Are you okay?" came a voice.
"Yes! I'm here!" Lorraine scrambled up, her voice shaky and on the verge of crying.
The doors were finally forced open. Maintenance staff and a security guard were there.
But the figure standing quietly behind them, the one she hadn't expected at all - was Tristan.
