Chapter 117 Special treament
ARYA’S POV
The next morning, that hope was tested.
I woke up late, my cheap alarm clock had died sometime in the night, and scrambled to get ready.
Then I realized too late that my only professional-looking shirt had a stain I hadn't noticed in the dim hostel lighting.
By the time I made it to the office building, I was fifteen minutes late and had coffee spilled down my front from the too-full cup I grabbed on the way.
Just perfect.
I rushed into the office, out of breath, looking like I was attacked by a caffeinated tornado.
Ethan Traynor stood by the reception desk, eyeing me with a murderous stare.
"You're late." He snapped.
I cleared my throat and smoothed my skirt with my free hand. "I'm so sorry. My alarm didn't go off and then-"
"Fifteen minutes late on your first day." He cut me off. "Do you understand how that looks?"
I hastily nodded. "It won't happen again. I promise."
"That's what everyone says." He gestured to the coffee stain spreading across my shirt. "And you're dressed... like that."
My face warmed up instantly and I ducked my head "I know. I'm sorry.”
"Come with me."
He turned and walked toward his office. I followed, fighting back tears.
This was it. He was going to fire me before I even started.
In his office, he closed the door and turned to face me.
"Mr. Traynor, please, I promise it won’t happen again."
"I need to know if this job is important to you." His voice was clipped. "Because if it's not, if you're going to treat it like some temporary thing, I need to know now."
"It's important." The words came out desperate. "It's the most important thing I have right now."
He stopped, studying my face. “Good, because I don’t hire slackers or tardy people.”
I bobbed my head again, my throat tightening. Thank goodness, he wasn’t going to fire me… which meant he needed to know the truth.
I stepped closer. “Mr. Traynor, there’s something you need to know.”
My hand moved instinctively to my stomach and his eyes tracked it.
His expression changed. "Don’t tell me you have a stomach ache now?”
“What?” I burst out, nearly laughing. “No! But as my boss you ought to know that I'm pregnant.”
His eyes widened and I dropped my bag and coffee cup, rushing out the next words. “I know that's probably not what you want to hear, but I swear I can do this job. I'll work harder than anyone. I'll never be late again. I just…"
My voice cracked. "I really need this. Please."
Silence filled the office.
Ethan ran a hand through his hair, muttering something under his breath that sounded like "I knew you were trouble."
"Please," I said again. "I'm begging you. Just give me a chance."
He stared at me for a long moment, his jaw working.
Then he pulled out his wallet and extracted a sleek black card. "There's a department store two blocks from here. Go buy yourself three appropriate work shirts and charge them to this card."
I stared at the card like it might explode. "I can't collect this."
"Consider it an advance on your first paycheck." He pressed it into my hand. "And Miss Russo? If you're ever late again without calling ahead, we're going to have a very different conversation. Understood?"
"Yes. Yes, I understand." Relief flooded through me so intensely I felt dizzy. "Thank you. Thank you so much. You won't regret this."
"We'll see about that." But something in his expression had softened slightly. "Go get a new shirt and be back in an hour. Diane will show you your desk and go over your responsibilities."
I clutched the card, nodding so hard my head might fall off. "Thank you!"
"An hour, Miss Russo."
I practically ran out of his office, the card feeling heavy in my hand.
The department store Ethan had mentioned was exactly two blocks away, I pushed through the glass doors with fifteen minutes of my hour already gone.
I headed straight for the women's section, scanning the racks desperately for anything white and professional.
"Excuse me?" I approached a sales associate who was meticulously folding sweaters. "I need help finding-"
She glanced at my stained shirt and wrinkled nose slightly. "The clearance section is on the third floor."
"No, I'm looking for white button-down shirts. My boss said-"
"We keep those over there." She gestured vaguely toward the back of the store without looking up from her folding. "You can browse on your own."
I bit back my frustration and headed in the direction she indicated.
There were racks and racks of clothes with price tags that made my stomach drop. But Ethan had given me his card.
I found the white blouses and started searching through sizes, very aware of the clock ticking in my head.
"Can I help you?" Another sales associate appeared, this one looking at me with barely concealed skepticism.
I smiled in relief. "Yes, please. I need three white button-down shirts.”
"Those are quite expensive," she interrupted, her tone suggesting I couldn't afford them. "Are you sure you wouldn't prefer something from our more budget-friendly line?"
My face flushed with heat. "My boss gave me-“
"Of course." Her smile was patronizing. "Why don't you look around and let me know if you find something in your price range?"
She started to walk away.
"Wait!" I pulled out Ethan's card, holding it up. "I have this. My boss gave me this card specifically to buy shirts here."
The woman turned back, her eyes landing on the card. Her expression transformed completely.
"Is that…" She stepped closer, staring. "Is that a black card?"
"I... yes?" I looked down at it. "My boss said to charge it to this."
Suddenly, I had her full attention. "Of course! I'm so sorry for the confusion, Miss...?"
"Russo."
"Miss Russo. Let me help you find exactly what you need." She practically beamed at me now, her entire demeanor changed. "Follow me."