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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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Miss Brown, Keep It Down Chapter 65: A Different View
The hallway outside the conference room still buzzed faintly with the echoes of footsteps, murmured speculation, the scrape of leather folders being carried away. But inside Sebastian’s temporary office, the silence was almost heavy.Katherine sank into one of the chairs near the desk, her tablet still in her hands though she hadn’t looked at the screen since leaving the meeting. Her shoulders were tense, her jaw tight, her pulse still out of rhythm. The adrenaline had drained out of her, leaving her hollow, as if Halworth’s eyes were still on her even though the room was empty.Sebastian closed the door behind them with a soft click. Not the polite nudge of a handle, but a deliberate push, sealing them off from the building and its noise. He didn’t speak right away. He simply studied her — the faint pallor of her face, the way her hand trembled as she tried to set the tablet down, the way she pressed her lips together to stop them from quivering.Finally, he moved across the room and
Miss Brown, Keep It Down Chapter 64: The Test
The conference room was too cold, both in temperature and in tone. The Halworth delegation sat in a neat row along the polished table, their suits immaculate, expressions carefully neutral. Not one smile. Not one trace of warmth. Their briefcases rested at their feet like silent weapons, their notepads open, pens poised as if ready to strike. The air itself felt clinical, heavy with the unspoken fact that Halworth had the leverage, and they knew it. At the head of the table, Sebastian Mason was the only figure who looked entirely unbothered. His jacket was buttoned, his posture precise, his tone measured as he began. “Gentlemen, ladies. Welcome to Los Angeles,” he said evenly, his voice filling the room with the kind of authority that left little room for argument. “I trust your flight was smooth.” A murmur of acknowledgments followed — clipped, formal. The senior partner from Halworth, a silver-haired man with sharp cheekbones and sharper eyes, gave the faintest incline of hi
Miss Brown, Keep It Down Chapter 63: When the Floor is Still Wet Paint
The morning sun spilled through the glass walls of Mason Equity’s temporary offices, throwing long stripes of light across the floor. Katherine stepped in, heels clicking a little too sharply against the polished surface, her bag tucked tightly under one arm. She had rehearsed her expression all the way here: neutral, focused, untouchable. The kind of face that told people she had not, in fact, nearly been caught kissing her CEO against the door of her office less than twenty-four hours ago.It lasted about thirty seconds.Sebastian was already there, leaning casually against the corner of her desk, flipping through the morning’s reports as though he had been waiting all along. Perfectly composed, cufflinks in place, shirt collar crisp, not a single trace of the chaos from yesterday clung to him. He looked like he had slept eight uninterrupted hours and woken up immune to scandal.Katherine dropped her bag a little harder than necessary onto the desk. “If Sophie tells anyone —”He did
Miss Brown, Keep It Down Chapter 62: Lines We Pretend to Keep
The morning sun had just begun to slant through the tall glass walls of the office floor when Katherine pushed open her door, balancing her coffee in one hand and scrolling absently through her phone with the other. She was already running through the day’s agenda in her head — client calls, a board update, that endless supply chain briefing she wasn’t looking forward to — when she finally looked up.And stopped.Sebastian Mason was in her chair.Not across from her desk in one of the visitor seats. Not standing casually at the window. He was behind her desk, leaning back with the relaxed arrogance of someone who had already claimed the territory as his own. Her laptop was open, his papers spread across her blotter, and a Montblanc pen tapped lazily against the edge of her notebook — her notebook.Katherine blinked once, set her coffee down a little too sharply, and arched a brow. “Excuse me?”Sebastian didn’t immediately look up. He finished a line in his notes, then glanced at her o
Miss Brown, Keep It Down Chapter 61: Passion on the Unfinished Floor
The rooftop had fallen into that rare kind of silence — not empty, not heavy, but warm, steady. Katherine stood against the railing, wrapped in his jacket, her body melting into the solid line of his chest behind her. His lips had just brushed her temple, the faintest kiss, enough to unravel the last knot of tension she had carried all day.For a moment she thought that was it — the quiet ending to a long, bruising day. But then he didn’t move away. His mouth lingered against her skin, the warmth of his breath soft against the shell of her ear.Sebastian shifted, his lips tracing a slow, deliberate path from her temple down the curve of her cheek. The touch was unhurried but filled with intent, a steady pressure that left her breath catching. When he found the corner of her jaw, the kiss lingered, heavier now, and something in the air shifted.Her lungs betrayed her, pulling in sharp, uneven breaths. She turned in his arms, her eyes finding his in the dim rooftop light. For one suspen
Miss Brown, Keep It Down Chapter 60: First Day, First Test
The elevator doors slid open with a low chime, spilling them into the still-silent top floor.The space was nothing like the polished Mason Equity offices she knew — no sleek conference tables, no glass partitions, no polished chrome nameplates. Just bare concrete underfoot, the faint echo of their steps, and walls still stripped down to white primer. Morning light streamed in through floor-to-ceiling windows, flooding the open expanse with gold, catching in the dust that hung in the air like glitter.Katherine took it in slowly, hands tucked into the pockets of her navy dress, her heels clicking against the floor. “Feels… unfinished,” she said with a little smirk.“Because it is.” Sebastian stepped out behind her, the click of his shoes more deliberate. He was in a dark charcoal suit with no tie, sleeves rolled just enough to give him an edge of informality — the only sign that this wasn’t a boardroom visit. In one hand, he carried a sleek leather folder, the kind she’d seen during h
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