[2] The Guilt

"NOW, I FEEL SELFISH for asking you a favor to replace me. It's temporary and I know you are struggling," Sonia said regretfully. "But you're great, creative, and reliable. You have potential, Bee. You could go places. You've got skills! I just want to look after you."

"I know—"

"My only wish is that you open up, a little bit. I'm all ears."

"Sonny, it's alright. You're my friend and you've always been there for me," Bee said softly.

Bee nicknamed Sonia as Sonny. She's four years younger than Bee. She's mature, sociable, ambitious, and successful. Even though their personalities were opposites, they're best of friends. Meanwhile, Sonia calls her friend Bee, as an endearment for her given name, Beatrice. 

Thanks to Sonia's influence, Bee socialized after a long time. She could finally cross out a to-do list item, which is to work in an office. So Bee tried to lighten the mood, to break the awkward silence between them. "Can you imagine Celine taking over your job? She would be the death of us. I'm generally tolerant of other people, but I just can't stand her entitled mindset."

"Oh, god! What has she been up to?"

"She's getting on my nerves," Bee said, annoyed. "I asked her for one favor to take that damn report to the CEO because I got caught up with some documents. And guess what? She's taking credit for it."

Bee specifically omitted the fact that their boss gave Celine key tasks in the office because this would prompt another complicated conversation something along the lines of 101 ways to outsmart the office bitches, while keeping your hands smudge-free.

"Oh, girl! You have so much to learn about office politics. Never, ever ask a favor from Celine & Friends," suddenly, Sonia paused to accommodate someone.

Bee heard a man's voice in the background. He asked Sonia if she needed anything besides sliced green mangoes. It was Tim, Sonia's husband. He appeared on the screen briefly to wave at Bee and then proceeded to kiss his pregnant wife on the forehead.

Sonia savored each slice of unripe mango like it's an apple. Bee mouthed "urgkkk", her face grimacing as if she had tasted the sour mango. Bee couldn't believe that her friend would crave that. Sonia multitasked between chewing and talking. "I learned that the hard way!"

A moment later, Sonia giggled while Tim whispered something to her ear. Probably naughty bits. Damn, those love birds! Bee was used to Tim's serious and reserved demeanor. But at home with his wife, he's relaxed and unguarded.

Bee cleared her throat and smiled awkwardly. "Ummm… I think I should end the call?"

"Oppss… Sorry!" Sonia said coyly. "My hubby is such a perv!"

Tim shushed her. Sonia giggled.

"Oh, God! I don't want to hear any of it." Bee said firmly. "Spare me the devils and the details."

Sonia laughed with amusement.

After delivering the snack, Tim left. He must be heading to his home office. He's a man of few words. He owned a digital marketing agency. Bee was one of his first employees and eventually became his executive assistant for a few years.

However, six months ago, Sonia asked her boss, the company's CEO, if Bee, who was out of work at the time, could fill in as his executive assistant while she was on maternity leave. 

"Who would have thought that Tim could be that affectionate? I've always known your husband to have this stone-faced expression. When I was in the office, I felt like walking on tiptoe!" Bee blurted out.

"Love, honey," Sonia said with a wink and tuneful remark. "The ma-ma-magic of looove."

"Urgh! Don't get me started with that—"

"You'll find yours too. So don't you dare pull a no-show at Aunt Helena's wedding!"

"Now I understand why you insisted on me attending her wedding. If you thought I'd find one true love, like you and Tim did on her third wedding, that ain't happening!"

Sonia grinned like a Cheshire Cat. Bee massaged her temple out of exasperation. Sonia was up to something!

"Hey, I gotta go. My lunch break is over!" Bee said while waving her hand.

"You call that lunch?"

Before Sonia could trash-talk the muffins, Bee blurted out, "If you want me to go to the wedding, zip it." Bee said while gesturing with a zipped mouth.

Sonia responded by mimicking Bee's gesture.

They said their farewells and ended the video call at 12:46 PM. 

That was a bittersweet chat.

As Bee glanced around the cafe, she noticed that office workers kept coming and going. She recognized no one from the office, which was good because, right now, she's not in the mood for gossip.

The view from here is amazing, especially at sunset. Narra Crossing, the city's famous pedestrian scramble, is visible from here. Blake City's skyline is dotted with many contemporary and impressive buildings. They fit well with both the old and the new buildings.

Bee stood up to gather my belongings so she could head back to the office. 

She glanced at the sky one more time. The weather was fine, but dark clouds loomed on the horizon. Immediately, she felt as though it served as an ominous reminder of what was to come.

"Oh, shit. I forgot to reply to that email!" she mumbled, panicking.

She took the phone and re-read the email. It's from Julian Paulhart, CEO of Paulhart & Millerssen. The company is a prominent real estate investment firm. It has solid portfolios and very wealthy clients—the millionaire and billionaire types. And the content? It was short and cryptic as hell. Now, Bee's rethinking her life choices and job security. 

Email: "See me after work. You know the passcode to the penthouse."

"Damn it!" she cursed under her breath. "What was the passcode again?" 

Bee's mind whirred. And why the hell would he want to see her after work? In his house? That's very suspicious, disconcerting, and inappropriate. If this relates to the incident two months ago when she was at his penthouse, then she's screwed.

Bee sat down. The weight of her body slumped on the chair. She rummaged through her black leather work tote bag, she found the passcode scrawled in the work journal.

With trembling hands, she typed her response. Feigning innocence, she asked if there were any documents she needed to bring. His quick reply was: NONE. 

Bee had only been to his penthouse once, on a work-related task after she accompanied him to a meeting. 

"Good lord! I screwed up," she thought. She remembered that incident very well even though she tried to bury the memory of it.

On the CEO's expensive white leather couch, Bee's actions made her blush with embarrassment every time she recalled it. She acted stupidly and unprofessionally. 

The guilt was killing her.

But can you blame Bee? That day, stress and overwork overwhelmed her. She spent many weeks preparing documents for the company's new project. The penthouse had a mesmerizing view of the distant Blake City at night; as if the city lights were stars. She was alone and needy, really needy—a horny kind of need. It was a lapse of judgment. 

Bee asked herself: He didn't know, right?