Chapter 10 MOVED!

The hangover from Australia wasn’t physical; it was emotional.

I woke up expecting a "Post-Business-Trip-Recovery-Day."

You know the one—where you stay in your oversized hoodie, order a matcha latte you can’t afford, and scroll through TikTok until your brain turns to mush.

I was still riding the high of that flight back. The way Rowan’s shoulder felt under my head.

The way we shared that chocolate like it was a sacred peace treaty. I actually thought we had moved past the boss-employee wall.

My phone rang like it had beef with me.

I groaned, rolled over, and squinted at the screen.

Rowan’s PA.

Of course.

I answered with zero enthusiasm. “Good morning.”

“Good morning, Althea,” she said briskly. “Why aren’t you at the office?”

"Sandra? We just got back from a twenty-hour flight yesterday," I muttered, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. "I assumed we had a recovery day."

"Assumption is the mother of all failures, Althea. Mr. Pierce expects his team in the office. Now. Or don't bother coming in at all."

Click.

The call ended.

I was already irritated, and the day hadn’t even started yet.

I rushed out of bed, moving too fast, already late. I grabbed my bag, my jacket, my keys. As I stepped into the elevator, someone bumped into me.

Hot.

Wet.

Brown.

Coffee.

All over my blouse.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” the guy said, panicking.

I looked down at myself. “It’s fine,” I lied through clenched teeth.

It was not fine.

I was limping toward the tube station, dabbing at the brown stain with a dry napkin, when I heard a sickening snap.

My right heel gave way, sending me stumbling into a trash can.

"Are you kidding me right now?" I screamed at the sky.

I looked down at my broken shoe. I looked at my stained dress. I looked like a disaster.

By the time I walked into the office, forty minutes late and dragging one foot like a zombie, I was ready to set the building on fire.

But when I reached my desk, the fire turned into ice.

Someone was sitting in my chair. A girl named Lana from the junior marketing pool was currently arranging her succulent collection where my dual monitors used to be.

"Lana?" I said, my voice dangerously low. "What is going on? Why are you in my seat?"

Lana looked up, popping her gum. "Oh, hey Althea. It’s not your seat anymore. You’ve been moved."

"Moved? To where? The basement?"

"Ask Theo," she shrugged, turning back to her screen.

I pivoted on my one good heel and scanned the floor for my work husband.

I found Theo by the coffee machine, looking like he’d just witnessed a funeral. He didn't have his usual "spill the tea" energy.

He looked genuinely sad.

"Theo," I breathed, limping over to him. "Tell me Lana is joking. Tell me I’m not being evicted from my own desk."

Theo sighed, reaching into his blazer pocket and pulling out a thick, ivory envelope. "Sandra told me to give this to you the second you walked in. Althea... I’m so sorry."

I snatched the letter, my fingers trembling. I ripped it open, eyes scanning the professional, cold font.

Relocation of Duties: Effective Immediately. Employee: Althea Simmons New Department: Brand Identity & Creative Strategy.

"Brand Identity?" I whispered. "That’s on the other side of the building. That’s not even the same floor as the executive suite."

"It’s a different unit entirely," Theo whispered. "He moved you, babe. He moved you away from him."

The betrayal felt like a physical slap. Yesterday, I was sleeping on his shoulder.

Two days ago, he was holding me through a panic attack and telling me he "had me." Today, I was a line item he’d shifted to a different department to clear his workspace.

I didn't think. I didn't care that I was covered in coffee or that I was walking with a permanent tilt.

I marched straight to the frosted glass doors of the executive office. I didn't knock. I didn't wait for Sandra to tell me he was in a meeting.

I barged in.

Rowan was standing by the window, his back to me. He looked exactly like the tyrant I first met—cold, distant, and untouchable.

"Rowan," I breathed, slamming the letter onto his mahogany desk.

"What in the hell is this?"

He didn't turn around immediately. He took a slow sip of his espresso, then pivoted with a face that was completely devoid of the warmth I’d seen in Australia.

"It is Mr. Pierce to you, Althea," he said, his voice like liquid nitrogen.

"Not Rowan. I am your boss, and I suggest you remember that before I have you escorted out and fired for insubordination."

I felt the air leave my lungs. "Mr. Pierce?"

"Yes," he said, walking behind his desk and sitting down. He didn't look at my stained dress. He didn't look at my broken shoe. He looked at his laptop. "I had you moved because you've done enough in Sales.

Your branding insights in Australia were... adequate. You’ll be more useful in Creative Strategy."

"Useful?" I stepped closer, my voice cracking. "Is that all I am? A tool you move around when you're bored?"

"I am still honoring the salary increase," he said, his tone dismissive. "Nothing changes on your payroll.

Just your location. Now, please leave. I have a 10:30."

"I thought we were getting close," I stuttered. The tears were starting to blur my vision, and I hated myself for it.

"I shared my chocolate with you, Rowan. My friends—Theo, everyone—they know I never share my chocolate. It’s my thing. I let you in. I thought last night meant something."

Rowan finally looked up.

For a split second, I saw a flicker of something in his eyes—a shadow of the man who held me during the storm. But then, his jaw tightened, and the mask settled back into place.

"It was a business trip, Althea," he said, his voice flat. "And that was a piece of candy. Don't be a child."

Don't be a child.

I laughed once. Broken. Then I turned and walked out before I embarrassed myself any further.

Back at my desk—former desk—I packed my things quietly. My notebook. My pen. My framed quote.

Theo stood beside me. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered.

I swallowed hard. “It’s fine.”

It wasn’t.

But I said it anyway.

I walked away without looking back.

And for the first time, the office felt like a place I didn’t belong anymore.

But what I didn't understand was why he acted this way, and I for sure I'm going to find out.