After Hours

I stepped off the elevator on Monday morning and adjusted my blazer.

First day at Stavros International. I’d spent the weekend preparing, researching, memorizing names and faces from the company directory.

The executive floor was busy, assistants rushed past with coffee, phones rang, corporate chaos in full swing.

I checked my phone, the morning meeting started in ten minutes, conference room 3901.

I turned left down the corridor, nine minutes now.

A door stood open. I pushed it wider, expecting the conference room.

A man sat behind a massive desk. Fifties, gray hair, expensive suit. He looked up from his laptop.

“You’re late,” he snapped.

I blinked. “I’m sorry, I think I have the wrong room.”

“The coffee. Where is it?” he demanded.

“I’m not here to bring you coffee. I think there’s been a misunderstanding.”

“And what are you wearing?” His eyes moved over me with clear disapproval. “This is a professional environment, not a nightclub.”

Heat flooded my face. “Excuse me?”

He gestured at his shoes, expensive Italian leather, slightly scuffed. “Since you’re here, make yourself useful. There’s polish in the cabinet. My shoes need attention before the board meeting.”

I stared at him. “I’m not here to polish your shoes.”

“Then what good are you?” he shot back.

“I’m Elena Hayes. I work in strategic development. And you are?”

His smile dripped with condescension. “Richard Castellanos. Chief Operations Officer. Which means when I tell you to do something, you do it.”

“Actually, that’s not how this works at all.”

“Get the polish,” he ordered. “Now.”

My hands curled into fists. I wanted to walk out, to report him to HR, to tell him exactly where he could shove his precious Italian loafers.

But I also needed this job. Needed to survive three months without making waves.

I moved toward the cabinet, jaw clenched.

“On second thought, just do it here,” Richard said, propping his foot on the desk. “I don’t have all day.”

I grabbed the polish tin.

“What the hell is going on here?”

The voice cut through the room.

Nikos stood in the doorway, and his expression was pure fury.

Richard’s foot dropped from the desk.

“Nikos. I was just getting some help with a quick task before the meeting.”

“A quick task,” Nikos repeated, his voice dangerously quiet as he strode into the room. “You’re having my strategic development lead polish your shoes?”

“I thought she was an assistant. She walked into my office, so I assumed she was here to help with preparations,” Richard explained nervously.

“You assumed wrong,” Nikos stated flatly.

“Ms. Hayes reports directly to me. Which means unless you want to explain to the board why you’re wasting her time on menial tasks, I suggest you apologize.”

Richard’s face flushed red. “I didn’t realize who she was. It was an honest mistake.”

“You didn’t ask,” Nikos corrected sharply. “Apologize. Now.”

Silence hung heavy in the air.

“I apologize, Ms. Hayes,” Richard muttered. “My mistake.”

I set the polish tin down with a sharp click. “Apology noted,” I said coolly.

Nikos’s eyes met mine, and the moment held, something I couldn’t quite name.

“The meeting starts in five minutes,” Nikos said to Richard firmly. “Don’t be late.”

Richard grabbed his jacket and left without another word.

I exhaled slowly, adrenaline still coursing through my veins.

“Thank you,” I said quietly. “You didn’t have to step in like that.”

“Yes, I did,” Nikos replied. “You work for me. That means you’re under my protection.”

The word protection sent an unexpected flutter through my chest.

“I had it handled,” I insisted, lifting my chin.

“I’m sure you did,” he said, his mouth curving slightly. “But watching you verbally eviscerate a COO on your first day seemed counterproductive.”

Despite myself, I almost smiled. “Fair point.”

“The meeting’s this way,” he said, gesturing toward the door. “Follow me.”

We walked side by side down the corridor, close enough that our arms almost brushed with each step.

“For what it’s worth,” Nikos said casually, “your outfit is perfectly professional.

Richard’s just threatened by competent women.”

This time, I did smile briefly, but real.

“Noted,” I said.

The meeting was brutal. Two hours of presentations, budget discussions, territorial department heads fighting for resources.

I contributed twice. Both times, my suggestions were sharp, insightful, backed by solid research.

Both times, Nikos nodded in agreement.

“Implement that,” he directed the room.

“Ms. Hayes is right.”

I felt eyes on me throughout the meeting.

Resentment from some, curiosity from others.

When the meeting finally ended, I gathered my files and headed for my office.

My phone buzzed around eight PM. I’d been reviewing contracts for hours, barely noticing the floor had emptied around me.

A text from an unknown number appeared on my screen.

Mr. Stavros left files in his office for tomorrow’s presentation. Can you retrieve them? Door code is 7742.

I frowned at the message, strange that his executive assistant would text from an unknown number instead of calling.

But I was here anyway, might as well grab them now.

I took the elevator to the thirty-ninth floor and punched in the code at his office door.

The office was dark except for a single lamp by the window, casting long shadows across the room.

I pushed open the door. “Hello? I’m just here for the files,” I called out.

Nikos stood by his desk. He wasn’t alone.

Bella Martinez, the HR manager, was pressed against him. Her hands were tangled in his hair, his mouth was on hers, and they were kissing like they’d done this a thousand times before..

Then Nikos’s head turned. His eyes locked with mine.

Bella pulled back abruptly, her face flushed with embarrassment. “Oh God, I didn’t hear anyone come in,” she stammered.

“I apologize for the interruption,” I said, my voice perfectly calm despite the shock racing through my system. “I was told to collect files for tomorrow’s presentation.”

“Elena, wait,” Nikos started, stepping back from Bella quickly.

“Where are the files?” I interrupted, refusing to look directly at him.

“On the desk,” he said, his voice rough.

I walked forward with measured steps, grabbed the folder from his desk, tucked it under my arm, and turned to leave without another word.

“Ms. Hayes, we should talk about this,” he began.

“Goodnight, Mr. Stavros. Ms. Martinez,” I said with cool professionalism.

I walked out of his office. I didn’t run, didn’t let my composure crack.

I made it to the elevator and pressed the button.

The doors opened immediately.

I stepped inside and turned to face forward as the doors began to close.

Only when they shut completely did I let out the breath I’d been holding.

My hands were shaking. My chest felt tight, like someone had wrapped a band around my ribs and was slowly tightening it.

I had no right to be angry. This was business, nothing, more than a transaction to clear my brother’s debt.

Except he had defended me this morning, protected me in front of a senior executive, and looked at me like I mattered, now this.

The elevator descended slowly, and I worked very hard to convince myself I didn’t care what Nikos Stavros did in his office after hours.

I failed completely.