Chapter 5: She’s My Best Friend

Chapter 5: She’s My Best Friend

Emily

I walked in wearing yesterday’s clothes this morning, and I could still feel it clinging to me like a second skin, like evidence I couldn’t wash away, something that followed me no matter how much I tried to ignore it.

The receptionist had mocked me, her eyes dragging slowly over my body as if I didn’t belong there, as if I had somehow slipped into a world that wasn’t meant for me, and my new boss had looked down on me too, his silence heavier than words, louder than any insult he could have thrown at me.

But Miss Veronica, she was different, there was something about her, something warm hiding beneath her sharp edges, something that didn’t make me feel small or out of place, and I found myself learning from her, really learning, every single hour we spent together, not just about the job, but about how to exist in a place like this without breaking, without shrinking into myself.

“And then you press enter, and tada,” she said with a small flourish, showing me how to edit and save presentations as if it were something exciting, something worth celebrating, and I found myself smiling, genuinely this time, leaning a little closer to the screen without even realising it.

It wasn’t just presentations though, I already understood what this job truly meant, I would be doing everything from scratch, preparing his suits in the morning and laying them out perfectly, setting up his breakfast exactly how he liked it, managing his morning schedule, his work schedule, even his home schedule, everything about his life carefully arranged and controlled.

My life slowly orbiting his.

I asked for this job, didn’t I, that thought settled into me, grounding me, anchoring me in a way that didn’t allow room for hesitation, I didn’t get to complain, not when I chose this, not when I needed this, and besides, they were paying me five figures, five figures, the number alone enough to quiet every doubt trying to claw its way up my throat, enough to remind me why I was here.

I looked at Miss Veronica as she stood up, adjusting her blazer with effortless ease, “You’re learning faster than I expected,” she said with a pleased smile, “at this rate, I might be leaving sooner than planned,” and I nodded, though something inside me tightened slightly at that thought, something uneasy settling deep in my chest, because I wasn’t sure I was ready to be on my own yet.

Today, I was dressed differently, properly, a fitted black suit tailored for women hugging my figure, paired with a crisp white shirt and a structured black blazer, the stiletto heels clicking softly against the floor with each step, confident, steady, almost echoing the version of me I used to be, or maybe the version I was trying to become again.

I had always been a heels girl, even when I had no business wearing them, so walking in them now felt natural, familiar, like stepping back into something I had lost along the way, and I had noticed it too, the way Mr Kingsley had looked at me earlier, that brief pause, that flicker of something in his eyes, something unreadable, something that lingered longer than it should have, and even though I didn’t dwell on it, I didn’t ignore it either.

Veronica had taken me shopping earlier just to get me through the day, promising we would go again later to properly build my wardrobe, “I don’t think there’s anything else left for today, Emily,” she said, picking up her bag, “let’s finish up shopping for your new role,” and I was about to agree when a knock sounded at the door.

My body reacted before my mind could catch up, Veronica opened it, and the moment I heard Cynthia’s voice, everything inside me tightened, my chest, my throat, even my breathing felt off, and without thinking I moved, slipping behind the door, my heart racing, my breath caught somewhere between panic and confusion, I didn’t even know why I was hiding, I just did.

And Veronica noticed.

When Cynthia asked for me, Veronica didn’t hesitate, she simply told her I wasn’t there, and my chest tightened at that, something about it felt necessary, but I couldn’t explain why, couldn’t explain the way my stomach twisted at the sound of Cynthia’s voice outside that door.

The moment the door closed, I stepped out slowly, exhaling, trying to calm the way my heart was still beating too fast, Veronica turned to me, her expression different now, less light, more serious, more knowing.

“Why are you hiding from her,” she asked, and I sighed, rubbing my arms without thinking, “she did something last night,” I admitted, my voice quieter now, “something I didn’t like, and I don’t know how to confront her about it, I don’t want to just let it go,” the words felt heavier as they left my mouth, like I was admitting something I hadn’t fully processed yet.

Veronica studied me for a moment before taking my hand gently, her grip firm but steady, grounding, “I don’t know much about you,” she said slowly, “but you strike me as the kind of person who lets people walk all over her,” and that hit harder than I expected, settling somewhere deep, somewhere uncomfortable.

“Cynthia Vale is not a good person, Miss Carter, how do you know her,” she asked, and I frowned immediately, confusion flashing through me, “she’s my best friend,” I said without hesitation, “since high school,” the answer coming too quickly, too automatically.

Veronica let out a soft sound, something between a snicker and disbelief, “did you know she’s after Mr Kingsley,” she asked, and my heart dropped instantly.

“What,” the word barely left my lips, my thoughts scrambling, my mind trying to reject it before it could even settle, no, that couldn’t be right, Cynthia would have told me, she told me everything, didn’t she.

“Then she’s not your friend,” Veronica said simply, “and I’d bet she’s in Adrian’s office right now,” and the air around me suddenly felt heavier, thicker, harder to breathe through.

Instead of letting myself sink into it, I grabbed her hand impulsively, “then this means this is our chance to go shopping,” I said quickly, pulling her toward the door, not giving myself time to think, to question, to feel.

She yelped softly, barely managing to grab her purse as I dragged her along, and we moved fast, my heels clicking louder now, almost frantic, almost desperate, and by the time we reached the elevator it was already closing, but not before I saw her.

Cynthia

Stepping out of Adrian’s office, her expression sharp, annoyed, angry even, her eyes snapping toward the elevator and straight to me, and for a split second time froze, our eyes locking, hers widening as recognition hit, and then the elevator doors slid shut between us.

My heart pounded, loud, heavy, impossible to ignore, and I let out a small breath.

Okay, that felt like a boss move, I didn’t say it out loud, but the small spark of satisfaction flickered quietly inside me anyway.

“How much do you actually know about Cynthia, Miss Carter,” Veronica asked as the elevator descended, and I sighed, leaning back slightly, “I know she comes from wealth,” I started slowly, “her and her mother don’t get along, I know her birthday, her crushes from high school and college,” and Veronica raised her hand, stopping me midway.

“I see,” she said softly, “you only know the good side of her,” and I turned to look at her, frowning, “what do you mean,” I asked, but she hesitated, just for a moment, before shaking her head.

“Miss Vale is not a nice person, I wish I could tell you more, but I’m bound by contract to keep quiet,” and that word lingered, contract, sitting heavier than it should have.

I didn’t press further, I just nodded, because what else could I do, Cynthia had always been there, my best friend, my only friend, the one person who stayed, and I didn’t want to believe anything else, even if a small part of me had already started to question it.

Yes, she could be difficult, sharp, a little cruel sometimes, but she was still a good person… right.

We shopped the entire day, and by the end of it my feet were practically begging for mercy, every step burning, my muscles aching, but I didn’t complain, not when this felt like a glimpse into a life I had never really lived before.

“Come,” Veronica said, pointing toward a burger joint, “let’s eat before we go our separate ways,” and I paused for a moment, staring at it.

A burger joint.

When was the last time I had something like that, had I ever, I didn’t let myself think too deeply about it, just following her inside.

We took a seat, and she gestured for me to sit beside her instead of across, close, comfortable, almost like we were something more than just coworkers.

“Now,” she said, pulling out her tablet, “I’m going to show you his home schedule,” and my stomach tightened slightly.

“And what he does when he gets home, his routines, expectations, everything, you’ll need to manage it just like you do his work life,” I nodded slowly, forcing myself to focus, to absorb everything.

“Also,” she added casually, like it was nothing, “once a week you’ll be sleeping over at his house to ensure everything stays in order, his home office, his files, everything,” and my breath caught.

Sleep, at his house, why, the question echoed loudly in my mind, but my lips stayed sealed, why couldn’t I just handle it during the day, why did it have to be overnight, why did that make my chest feel tight, uncomfortable, uncertain.

But I swallowed it down, pushing it aside, because I asked for this job, because I needed this job, because some part of me already knew there was no going back now, and maybe, just maybe, I had already stepped too far into something I didn’t fully understand, something darker, something that was slowly beginning to close around me, quietly, patiently, like it had been waiting for me all along.