"Miss Benson, could you please come to my office?" The call abruptly ends.

With the receiver down, she let out a long sigh. What did I do this time? She wondered. He didn’t even wait for me to respond before hanging up.

Reluctantly, she stood up and made her way to her boss's office, knocking three times before hearing the invitation to enter.

"You called for me, sir?" she asked as she stepped inside.

"Yes, come closer." He handed her a file. "I need you to research this company. Gather everything about them—their share profitability, business deals, and any recent scandals. I want to know all there is before moving forward with the merger between them and my client."

"Of course, sir. Is there anything else?"

"Yes, please book a dinner for four at the Saint Pablo Restaurant. That will be all."

"On it, sir." Sylvia exited his office.

Later that afternoon, Sylvia immersed herself in research, gathering information about the company she needed to investigate. Her boss had already left for the dinner she had arranged, granting her some uninterrupted time to focus.

Just then, a voice interrupted her work. "So, this is the famous pretty thing Mr. Adam hired as an assistant."

Sylvia lifted her gaze from the screen to find the formidable Miss Charity Amoah standing in front of her desk. Known for her sharp demeanour and no-nonsense attitude, Charity had a reputation that sent chills down many spines.

Rumour had it that her attitude stemmed from a turbulent childhood and her firsthand experience of a brutal divorce. She had watched her parents battle fiercely in court for custody, flitting between their homes like a pawn in their game. This painful history fueled her determination to excel in family law, driving her to become the best lawyer possible so that no child would have to endure what she did. Sylvia held a deep respect for her and secretly aspired to be like her one day.

Sylvia was so lost in her thoughts that she hadn’t noticed Charity calling out to her.

“Earth to you! Where’s your boss?”

“Sorry, he stepped out a little while ago.”

“When will he be back?”

“I’m not sure, but I doubt it will be anytime soon. Is there something I can assist you with?”

“Nope!” Charity pivoted to leave but paused. “You know, for someone as pretty as you, you could do better with your wardrobe.”

Taken aback, Sylvia glanced down at her dress. What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?

As if reading her thoughts, Charity replied, “For someone holding a law degree, you should dress to command authority and respect. Not wearing that cheap thing you call clothes. Power isn’t something you earn in this profession; it’s something you seize.” With that, she strode away gracefully.

***

Scott had just finished preparing the financial report for the day, which included crafting financial statements that offered insights into the firm's financial health and ensured compliance with legal obligations.

With that task completed, he decided to head to the firm's kitchen for a snack. It was there that he spotted her. Dressed in a tailored black suit and a light pink blouse, she looked professional as always. Even in her work attire, she exuded beauty.

Scott lingered by the kitchen door, admiring her. In her left hand, she held a file, intently scrolling through its pages, making one wonder what could be so captivating.

As he approached the kitchen counter to pour himself a cup of coffee, he called out, “Well, well, if it isn’t the renowned assistant, Miss Benson! What’s in that file? Should I assume it’s one of those fascinating case files your boss has you digging into? You know, that’s one thing about being an assistant that I don’t miss,” he joked.

Sylvia looked up from her file, a slight smirk forming on her lips. “Good afternoon, Mr. MacLen. Shouldn’t you be off working somewhere?”

“Perhaps I should, but you know the saying: all work and no play makes Scott a dull boy,” he replied with a grin before taking a sip from his mug.

Just then, the microwave beeped, and Sylvia turned to retrieve her warmed meal, which she had brought from home.

As she turned to leave, she shot back a sarcastic remark, “I suppose one can’t be dull if what they do is only half-interesting.”

“Ouch!” Scott exclaimed dramatically, placing a hand on his chest as though wounded.

“Miss Benson, are you implying that my job isn’t interesting?” he asked, feigning shock.

“I’m not implying anything, Mr. MacLen. Just stating the obvious,” she countered, taking a seat at the kitchen table.

"Excuse me, but I want to point out that my job is anything but dull. Working with numbers is far more exciting than trying to bail people out of jail, you know."

"Oh, I'm sure it is," Sylvia replied, dripping with sarcasm.

Scott shook his head, fully aware that trying to convince her otherwise was pointless.

He moved closer, playful curiosity evident in his expression. “Come on, are you going to share what those files are about?”

“And are you ever going to let me focus on my work?” she shot back.

“The sooner you tell me what the files are for, the sooner I’ll leave you to it,” Scott said, leaning in.

With a deep sigh, Sylvia relented. “Fine, it is a case file, and I’m going through a company’s books to see if they're doing anything shady.”

“And how’s that going for you?” Scott inquired. Taking a sip from his mug.

“I’m getting nowhere. Just looking at these numbers is making my head spin,” she said, frustration evident in her tone.

A grin spread across Scott’s face; he sensed an opportunity. “Let me take a look. You know numbers are my forte.”

Rolling her eyes, she reluctantly handed over the file.

Scott settled into a chair across from her and began scanning through the pages.

While he worked, Sylvia watched him closely as she ate her meal.

“You know, this would be much more effective if I had one of their previous financial records to compare these figures. Just analyzing this alone won’t cut it,” he said.

“I see,” Sylvia replied. “I think I have one of their older records back at my desk. I’ll go get it.”

“Please, take your time. There’s no place I’d rather be than right here,” he quipped.

Within a minute, Sylvia returned, handing him the other file. As she resumed her meal, she noticed that half of it was missing. She could’ve sworn there had been more before she left.

“What happened to my food?” she asked, feigning innocence.

“Oh, that? Sorry! That was totally my fault. I was starving, and your meal looked too good to resist, so I had to sneak a taste,” he admitted.

“You must be joking,” she replied, incredulous.

“Apologies,” he said again, quickly shifting his focus back to the files.

Sitting back in her chair with her arms crossed, Sylvia shot him an annoyed look. It was clear she was not happy, but Scott was too engrossed in his task to notice.

After a few moments of silence, Scott exclaimed, “I think I’ve found something! Look at these figures.” He pointed at the numbers. “The gap is massive. No business can make that much profit in a single year." He met her gaze. “I believe they’ve tampered with the figures to appear more attractive to potential buyers.”

“Are you certain about this?” she asked, eyebrows raised.

“Hey, I’m good at what I do, okay? If you’re sceptical, you can always request more of their records for confirmation.”

Sylvia examined the numbers thoughtfully. “I think I will do just that.”

“Here,” she pushed the rest of her food towards him. “Consider this a thank-you offering for your help.” With that, she left him alone in the kitchen.

Scott chuckled to himself, thinking, If this is what it takes to spend more time with you, I wouldn’t mind at all.