The Things He Notices

Dorian’s POV

By eight thirty on Monday evening, I had read the same paragraph four times.

I closed the document, pushed my chair back, and reached for the glass of water beside my laptop. It was nearly empty.

Bella Marlowe had been in my office for less than a day, yet I'd spent an unreasonable amount of time thinking about her.

Every time I returned to the financial proposal, I remembered her question that morning. She hadn't accused anyone of making a mistake. She'd simply pointed out that the figures didn't match and waited for me to explain why.

I hadn't had an answer.

It was irritating.

It was also one of the reasons I'd hired her.

In high school, Bella had never been good at letting an argument go. She'd find a flaw in whatever you said and keep pushing until you either admitted it or gave her another reason to prove you wrong. I used to think she enjoyed making people uncomfortable.

Perhaps she did. I certainly hadn't enjoyed being on the receiving end.

The woman who'd walked into my office that morning was different, though. More composed. She chose her words carefully now, and she didn't react to every provocation.

At least, not where I could see it.

My phone vibrated.

Callum: Still at work?

Me: For a little while.

Callum: You said that two hours ago.

I glanced at the time.

Me: I have things to finish.

Callum: Of course you do. How's the new assistant?

Me: She's doing well.

Callum: That's almost a compliment.

I left the message unanswered.

A second later, another came through.

Callum: You know I'm going to ask about this when I see you.

I put the phone facedown and returned to the proposal.

By the time I shut down my laptop, the financial discrepancy was still unresolved, but I'd made progress elsewhere. That was enough for one evening.

I collected my keys and headed downstairs.

Whatever I thought about Bella, I wasn't going to let a new employee distract me from my work.

---

On Tuesday morning, Bella arrived with the file tucked beneath her arm and a notebook in her hand.

I looked at the clock as she entered.

“Early again.”

“I had time to spare.”

“You could have used it to sleep.”

“I did sleep.”

I looked up at her. She seemed to be waiting for me to explain what I meant.

“Forget it,” I said, turning back to the file.

She sat opposite me and opened her notebook.

“I went through the documents last night. The figure in the summary still doesn't match the supporting record, and the dates suggest the summary refers to a newer version.”

“Could it be an adjustment made later?”

“It could. But there should be a record of it somewhere.”

“What do you recommend?”

“Request the revision history. That should tell us what changed and when.”

“And if it turns out to be a simple mistake?”

“Then we correct it.”

“And if it isn't?”

She glanced at her notes. “Then we find out what happened. I don't know enough yet to say more than that.”

I appreciated the answer. She wasn't trying to impress me with a theory, and she hadn't confused a discrepancy with proof of wrongdoing.

“Good. Send the request through the proper channel. Keep it neutral, and don't contact anyone involved directly.”

“I wasn't planning to.”

“I know. I'm making sure we're clear.”

She closed the notebook.

“What if they give us an explanation that doesn't make sense?”

“Then you bring it to me.”

“And if you don't agree with me?”

“Tell me why I'm wrong.”

She studied my face, apparently checking whether I was serious.

“You mean that?”

“Yes, Bella.”

“All right.”

I slid the file toward her. “Just don't decide someone is lying because you don't like their answer.”

“I wouldn't do that.”

“Good.”

She gathered the file and stood, but paused beside the desk.

“For what it's worth, I don't think you're as difficult as I remembered.”

I looked up. “You remembered me as difficult?”

“I remember a lot of things.”

She said it quietly enough that I couldn't tell whether she meant to make a point. Before I could ask, she tucked the notebook under her arm.

“I should get that request started.”

“Probably.”

She turned toward the door.

“Bella?”

She looked back.

“Good work.”

Her expression softened a little. “Thank you.”

Then she left.

I returned to my screen, determined to get through the rest of the morning without looking toward the door again.

---

Callum arrived shortly after ten with his laptop under one arm. His cybersecurity firm was handling the security assessment connected to the proposed merger, and we needed to settle a few details before his team began.

I was finishing an email when my assistant's voice came through the intercom.

“Mr. Rhodes is here.”

“Send him in.”

A few seconds later, the door opened. Callum stepped inside, followed by Bella, who was carrying a folder.

“Dorian,” Callum said.

“You're late.”

“I'm three minutes late.”

“Still late.”

“Good to see nothing's changed.”

Callum dropped into the chair opposite my desk. Bella placed the folder on the table, then glanced at him as she turned to leave.

She stopped.

“Callum Rhodes?”

He looked up at her, unsurprised.

“Morning, Bella.”

She stared at him for a moment before breaking into a surprised laugh. “What are you doing here?”

“Work. Same as you, apparently.”

“I didn't know you worked with Dorian.”

“His company needs a security assessment. Mine happens to do those.”

She shook her head, still smiling. “I can't believe I'm running into you here after all these years.”

“It's good to see you again,” Callum said.

“You too.”

I looked between them. “Are you two finished catching up?”

Bella turned toward me. “Sorry. I just wasn't expecting to see someone from school here.”

“Dorian's told me enough about your first day to know you've already made yourself useful,” Callum said.

She raised an eyebrow. “He's been talking about me?”

“Don't sound so pleased,” I said.

“I wasn't going to.”

Callum grinned. “Some things really haven't changed.”

“Don't start,” I warned him.

He held up his hands. “I haven't said anything.”

“You were about to.”

Bella laughed softly and picked up the folder again. “I'll let you two get to work.”

Callum nodded. “We should catch up sometime, when neither of us is working for Dorian.”

“Sounds good.”

She gave us a quick smile and left, closing the door behind her.

Callum watched the door for a moment.

“She seems well.”