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Chapter 2: We Don’t Do Pink Sticky Notes Here
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2025-06-21 00:48:19Sebastian Mason never started his day without black coffee, absolute silence, and a review of the market summary.
Today, only two of those things happened. Because at 8:42 a.m., just as he was skimming through Q3 projections, a bright fuchsia sticky note stared up at him from his desk. Dead center. On the mahogany surface where nothing personal, nothing pink, and definitely nothing sticky had ever existed. “You looked tense yesterday. You should try smiling. K.B.” Sebastian stared at the note like it had insulted his mother. His assistant entered seconds later, caught the look on his face, and froze mid-step. “Did something—?” “Who gave her access to my office?” The assistant blinked. “Miss Brown? She arrived early. Said she was just familiarizing herself with the space.” “It’s not a zoo.” “She brought doughnuts. I… panicked.” Sebastian closed his eyes for exactly three seconds, inhaled once through his nose, then placed the sticky note in the trash — with exact precision. This was going to be a long day. --- Katherine, meanwhile, was already three floors down, completely unaware that her choice of sticky note color had triggered a minor existential crisis. She was too busy organizing her desk. By organizing, of course, she meant decorating. One flamingo-shaped pen holder, one small disco ball (“for office sparkle emergencies”), and a rotating stand of highlighters in nine shades of chaos. “You know,” said one of the interns hesitantly, glancing at the collection, “you might want to tone it down. Mr. Mason… doesn’t really do personality.” Katherine smiled like she’d just been challenged to a duel. “He hired me. That’s on him.” She opened her laptop, attached a tiny ceramic cactus to the top of the screen, and got to work like nothing in the world was off-limits. --- By 10:05 a.m., the first full-staff meeting was scheduled. Sebastian entered the conference room precisely one minute before start time. Black suit. Straight spine. No smile. The team quieted instantly. He glanced around the table. Finance. Risk. Strategy. Compliance. And… pink. Katherine Brown was already seated. Front row. Legs crossed. Bright yellow notepad. Red blouse with small gold stars on the collar. And a neon green sticker on the back of her notepad that said: “In case of boredom, doodle.” He didn’t flinch. Barely. But he saw it. Everyone saw it. He cleared his throat. “Let’s begin.” --- Ten minutes into the meeting, Katherine raised her hand. Sebastian did not call on people during meetings. This wasn’t kindergarten. “Miss Brown,” he said, tone neutral. This isn’t a Q&A.” “Then I’ll just comment. Your Q3 forecast spreadsheet has a layout issue.” He paused. “It’s… accurate.” “Oh, I don’t doubt the math. But slide seven? That blue-on-grey combo is one lawsuit away from an optical injury.” A beat of silence. Then—someone chuckled. Finance guy, third from the right. He instantly coughed to cover it. Sebastian looked at her. Long and flat. “We prioritize clarity. Not color.” “Clarity’s great,” she said, tapping her pen. “But if no one wants to look at the data, what good is it?” For a moment, he said nothing. Then nodded once. “Noted. Please revise the layout and submit a cleaner version. Before noon.” Katherine blinked. He just… agreed? “Sure. With pleasure.” --- By 11:50, the new version was in his inbox. It was cleaner. Brighter. Infographics added. Font spacing optimized. Slide seven? He hated to admit it… but it looked better. He did not reply. Instead, he printed it and brought it to the second-floor strategy team. Handed it over without a word, except: “Use this version.” And walked out. The entire team stared at the last page where, at the bottom corner, there was a tiny grey smiley face watermark. Barely visible. Only he would have noticed it. He didn’t say a word about that, either. --- At 6:12 p.m., most of the office was already dark. People left quietly in this place, heads down, voices low. But in the creative corner, there was still light. And laughter. Katherine was balancing a binder on her head, trying to type with one hand while making someone else read notes aloud in a pirate voice. Sebastian passed by the glass wall. She didn’t see him. He didn’t stop. But one of the interns turned red. And Katherine, sensing something, paused and glanced toward the door. But he was already gone. She stared for a second, then shook her head, smiling to herself. “No one that stiff lasts forever.” --- Upstairs, back in his office, Sebastian stared at a different sticky note. Not pink this time. This one was orange. “For emergencies only: breathe. – K.B.” He didn’t throw it away. But he didn’t keep it either. Instead, he opened his drawer, placed it inside… and closed it gently. ---
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