Your Office Obsession Novels & Stories

(James’ POV) Work has this unique quality; it’s a realm where everything else fades away. No messy personal dramas, no surprise shifts in living arrangements, and certainly none of the ghosts of relationships past that sternly refuse to stay in the past. Just clean lines, blueprints, and the satisfaction of creating something tangible. The office was buzzing with the usual energy—keyboards tapping, phones ringing, and the quiet hum of voices deep in conversation. Or at least, that’s how it was meant to be.

They'd all had one idea or the other about how they wanted the company to operate going forward, and even though I disagreed with all their opinions and felt like they were being shallow minded, I still had to indulge them and try to make them understand my reasoning. Finally the meeting concluded with the disagreement still between me and the shareholders and I felt frustrated as I organised the mountain of files on my desk, wondering when I was finally going to go through them like I'd promised Maya. And when I looked at the open drawers and the crumpled pieces of paper all centimetres away from the trash can, I realised that my office was a mess. It was so unusual for it to be that way, a

After that day, the office had become my hide out. Work had always been a means of escape from reality for me, but recently, it had transformed into an obsession. Since the incident with Thiago and Cynthia, I had buried myself under piles of reports and endless meetings. I always find myself staying late hours in the office.

|Ever| For the umpteenth time, I cast a disgusted look around my office, then back to my desk. Oh! Things I ache to do to that bastard, Thomas! A devious smile curls on my lips I try not to glance at the dusty towering cabinets of years-old files and cobwebs around me, but they aren't hard to miss. Sighing, I slide the stack of files to one side, open my laptop, and type hurriedly until a list of DIY videos about office decor pops up.

I said bored and hurried into my office Little by little, I will become a skeleton because of my work At first I really wanted this job but now I regret my decision Office Manager That's the one hanging on the door of my office but when you go inside it looks like a kitchen because of the dirt "Jela, please call the janitor why hasn't the inside of my office been cleaned yet" I shouted and sat down on the swivel chair Jela's head pops up on my door"a-ah, ma'am, the janitor hasn't finished cleaning the storage room---- ahh, your office is even dirtier than the storage room, okay, I'll call him I'll be right back" she answered and left

Emma dusted her nose with a frantic movement, swiftly scanning the room for as though there could be more somewhere in her office. The contents of the nylon weighed heavily on her as she stared at it, the sleek office now feeling increasingly suffocating. The once neatly arranged papers on the desk, the chairs, the walls, the entire office now seemed to be mocking her, almost as if they knew her new found secret.

The office is suffocating in the way all offices are—sterile, cold, and drowning in the scent of paper and cheap coffee. I can practically hear the groan of overworked printers and the shuffle of documents being pushed around just for the sake of looking busy. Carlos sits at his desk, watching me like I might burst into flames at any second. His fingers drum lazily against the mahogany surface, his sharp eyes flickering between the clock and me, like he’s waiting for the inevitable moment I throw my hands up and say, Screw this, I’m just a whore after all. Yeah, not happening.

“Please, say this in front of that blonde that planned on putting her evil claws on you whenever she gets the slightest opportunity.” “It's pretty much obvious that I am obsessed with you. You're the only one oblivious to that fact.” He defended. I paused my chewing and froze. ‘Obsessed?’ That's a very big word, and I know they don't always end well. But I don't see myself falling out of love with Zion anytime soon so we are stuck together. “Oh, and that reminds me.” Zion straightened up and looked at me with all seriousness. “We would need an office setting, and we figured out that the Kings’ headquarters was most suitable.”

The waiting room felt too sterile, almost suffocating. Every detail screamed money—polished marble floors, oversized sculptures, and minimalist artwork that seemed too detached from reality. I’d been to my fair share of corporate offices in my career, but this one was different. It was designed to impress, to make you feel small, insignificant, in the face of power. And, as I sat there, waiting for Dominic Hayes to make his appearance, I realized it was working.

Now I'm in so deep with this obsession, there's no way out. With a hard sniff, I force myself to stand on numb legs, reminding myself that I have a job. A Halloween party to plan. An office downtown where I go and act normal at my desk, rewarding each solid hour of work with a trip to the Firestarter website where I can see Locke's face on the CEO page. Unsmiling, serious, cleanly shaven Locke.