Whispers In The Hall

Whispers in the Hall

ABOUT thirty minutes later or there about, they were done.

Elena gently placed her napkin on the table, her appetite long satisfied, while Eamon sat opposite her exactly as he had throughout the meal— untouched plate, untouched drink, untouched hunger. He hadn’t taken a single bite, hadn’t lifted his glass once. When she had asked him a second time, he had simply said dinner was only a few hours away. He would wait.

She didn’t ask what ‘dinner’ meant.

Eamon glanced at his watch, the movement smooth and unhurried.

“Time to head back to the office,” he said calmly. “They are probably wondering where you must have run off to.”

Elena swallowed hard, nodding without a word.

The waitress returned, bowed slightly, and presented the bill. Eamon handled it with a flick of his wrist— no hesitation, no concern— and moments later they were walking out, back into the daylight, back toward the company.

The drive was quiet.

Too quiet.

As soon as they pulled into the parking lot and stepped out of the car, Eamon spoke again, his tone firm.

“Finish off your work for the day. Clear your desk and return to my office when you are done.”

Her brows furrowed in confusion.

“But— but—”

He lifted his right hand sharply, silencing her mid-sentence.

“No ‘buts’,” he said coolly. “You made a deal. Right here in the parking lot. To save your asshole of a husband. Remember?”

Her jaw tightened.

“Don’t call him that,” she snapped.

He laughed, low and amused, as though he had been expecting her reaction.

“Good women like you always end up with the wrong ones,” he said lightly. “And you still defend them? Ridiculous.”

Anger flared hot and fast in her chest.

“Whatever,” she said stiffly. “I will be at your office once I have closed for the day.”

She turned sharply to leave—

Then froze.

Evan.

Her son’s face flashed in her mind. He was waiting at home, expecting her. She couldn’t just disappear. She had to say something. Explain, at least enough.

“Um, Mr. Eamon, I—”

She stopped mid-sentence.

The spot where he had been standing seconds ago was empty.

He was gone.

No footsteps. No warning. No movement. Just air.

Her breath hitched violently.

She flinched, heart racing, then shook herself hard. ‘No. Not now. Get it together.’

Without looking back, she gathered herself and hurried out of the parking lot, her heels clicking faster as she rushed toward the building.

The moment she stepped into the hall, she felt it.

Eyes.

So many eyes. They were all staring at her.

Some openly. Some with narrowed gazes. Some whispering behind hands. Some wearing looks of pure disdain. Others looked in anger. A few unreadable.

Her stomach twisted. Then she heard it. The whispers.

“Is that her?”

“That is the one.”

“The clerk?”

“No way.”

“She replaced Ava.”

“Straight to financial director?”

“Sleeping her way up, obviously.”

“I heard she works directly with the CEO now.”

“Oh please.”

“Poor Ava.”

“She doesn’t even belong here.”

The words sliced into her from every direction.

Oh God.

Her cheeks burned. Shame flooded her chest. She lowered her head instinctively, wishing the floor would open and swallow her whole.

‘I didn’t ask for this,’ she screamed silently. ‘I didn’t want any of this.’

She tightened her grip on her skirt and quickened her pace, ignoring the stares, the murmurs, the venom curling in the air. Each step felt heavier than the last as she pushed past cubicles and desks that once felt familiar and somewhat safe.

But not anymore.

She kept her eyes on the floor, moving faster, desperate to reach her office and disappear from view.

If only for a moment.

She finally got to her office and, as expected, six pairs of eyes landed on her the very second she stepped in.

Eyes that hadn’t bothered to see her when she had rushed in that morning— late, panting, apologetic. Eyes that never looked her way on any other morning. Now, they were all fixed on her, heavy with curiosity, judgment, and something darker.

They had heard too.

Elena lowered her gaze instantly, pretending not to notice them as she hurried to her desk and sank into her chair. Relief washed over her the moment she sat down. She dropped her elbows on the desk and buried her face in her palms.

God.

What a morning.

What a day.

She stayed that way for a moment, breathing slowly, trying to calm the storm in her chest, when she suddenly felt it— a presence. It was close, intimate and almost pressing against her skin. A pleasant scent filled her nostrils, unfamiliar yet unmistakably feminine.

Her brows furrowed.

She slowly lifted her head.

Martha.

Elena stared in disbelief.

Martha was standing right beside her desk, smiling.

‘Martha?’

In all the years Elena had worked at Lunaris Tech Innovation, Martha had never for once smiled at her. Not once. She had never returned her greetings, never struck up a conversation, never even acknowledged her existence. Elena had tried at first— good mornings, polite nods— but after being ignored repeatedly, she had learned her lesson and stayed in her lane.

And now here she was. Smiling.

“Hey,” Elena said flatly, not bothering to return the gesture.

“Hi, Elena,” Martha replied brightly. “Is it true you went for lunch with the CEO?”

Elena scoffed inwardly. Of course. That was why she was here.

“I didn’t just go for lunch with him,” Elena corrected calmly. “He took me out to lunch.”

Martha chuckled, clearly impressed. 

“I see. And he has dismissed Ava and replaced her with you.” She leaned closer, glancing over her shoulder to make sure the others weren’t listening. “Come on, Elena. Tell me, how did you do it?”

Elena’s eyes flicked briefly to the others. Darel was busy with his screen, pretending not to listen. Ifeanyi wasn’t pretending at all, his eyes were fixed on them.

She turned back to Martha.

“Maybe you should go to him with your questions,” she said coolly. “Not me.”

Martha laughed lightly. 

“Oh please, Elena—”

“I need to get back to work, if you don’t mind,” Elena cut in.

The smile on Martha’s face vanished instantly, replaced with something sharp and ugly. She hissed under her breath, cast Elena a degrading look, then turned and walked away.

Elena rolled her eyes.

‘More like it.’

Just then, the office door flew open, and Clinton barged in.

The energy around him was volatile, anger, frustration, maybe even panic. He stormed straight toward Elena’s desk.

Elena gasped softly. ‘What now?’

“So you!” he barked, stopping right in front of her. “I asked you to take some files to Mr. Eamon and what did you do instead? You went about flirting? Going out—”

“I wasn’t—” Elena started, then stopped herself.

“Oh no,” Clinton snapped. “Go on. Finish it. You weren’t what?”

“I wasn’t flirting with anybody, Clinton,” she said firmly.

“Of course you were!” he shot back. “Going out to lunch with him, what do you call that? A business date? Huh?”

She closed her eyes briefly, exhaled, then opened them again.

“Clinton, you wouldn’t believe whatever I have to say,” she replied calmly. “At least he has your files now. So why trouble me?”

“Oh! Oh!” Clinton clapped twice mockingly. “Brava! Now you can talk back because you are now the financial director, right?”

Elena said nothing.

“Listen here,” he continued coldly. “You are still nothing but a clerk to me. Get that straight.”

Still, she didn’t reply.

“Finish the work on your desk,” he snapped. “I will have Greg send in more work… clerk.”

And with that, he turned and walked away.

Elena slumped slightly in her chair.

“God… more work?” she muttered. “I haven’t even started what is on my desk and it is almost 2 p.m.”

She sighed deeply, then straightened up, turned on her computer, and got to work.