Can't Trust These Ladies

Ortega felt disoriented at first but pulled himself together. He wondered what could be so important to warrant such a message.

"O-ok, be there in a minute." He said, but was met with a long beep indicating that Velvet had already cut the call.

Had Velvet caught wind of what happened earlier and was preparing to fire him?

Ortega gulped as he hurriedly touched himself up. If that was the case, he had to look presentable at least.

As his fingers ran through his slick, curly hair, Ortega's heartbeat quickened at a new thought:

Had Dr. Sylvia sold him out?

Had she reported him for attempting to kiss her?

"That could be the most likely case," Ortega thought as he quickly left the cubicles. His co-workers noticed his movements, and Ortega cringed at the attention. He shut the door behind him, and the room became quiet. The women acknowledged that he was uncomfortable being stared at.

However, just as they were about to return to their jobs, the door swung open immediately after, and Ortega stood confused as he held the doorknob.

"Um, do any of you know where the CEO's office is?" He awkwardly asked.

"Last floor," came the chorus reply. They all gave him a curious glance, wondering what he had done to be directly contacted by the CEO.

Ortega nodded in appreciation, closed the door once more, and bolted for the elevator. Inside, he jammed his index finger on the button for the 10th floor.

As he did so, he was surprised by the number. Even though this wasn't his first time using the elevator, Ortega hadn't noticed until now that BeautyPlus had up to ten floors!

He stood in the elevator as it rode up, his hands pocketed, and his mind in disarray.

"This is a total mess," Ortega thought, rubbing his face. He had lost count of how many frustrations he faced that day.

If Dr. Sylvia had reported him, there was nothing he could do. But Ortega was not one to go down without a fight.

Although he knew it was naive and brutish of him to attempt kissing a lady he barely knew, let alone the fact that she was his direct superior, Ortega still felt he was wronged.

He began to plot a suitable explanation for his defense, that is, if Velvet allowed him the liberty. It was highly unlikely, but he had to be hopeful.

He was tired of always getting the short end of the stick.

Ortega consoled himself that things might end up turning out differently and that his actions might be overlooked with a warning.

However, he knew that was just wishful thinking. Judging by their previous encounters, Ortega could sense that Velvet didn't like him as a person, which could explain why she was always criticizing his actions.

Or the fact could be that she was the strict business-minded type who ensured her employees always conformed to the rules of conduct in the workplace. Whichever way it was, Ortega knew he wouldn't stand a chance in an argument with her.

The elevator dinged softly, and the double doors parted open, revealing a sight that left Ortega momentarily stunned.

The room that welcomed him was a stunning display of splendor and elegance, unlike any other floor he had visited in the building. It was relatively smaller but exquisitely well-furnished.

As Ortega nervously clasped his fingers together, he took in the surroundings. A carpeted passage led from the elevator to a grand door at the far end of the room.

The passage was softly lit, with dim lights casting a warm glow that accentuated the collection of sparsely placed paintings and sculptures on the walls.

As he hurriedly walked past them, Ortega's lips parted in surprise at what these artworks depicted.

They were portraits of Velvet, each one intricately drawn and crafted with fine detail. The artists had captured her elegance and goddess-like beauty, each brush stroke and chisel mark highlighting her features with striking accuracy.

"Snap out of it, Ortega," he muttered to himself, shaking his head to refocus.

He continued towards the large door at the end of the passage. Seeing it was the only room on this floor, Ortega guessed he was in the right place.

He took a deep breath, his hand instinctively forming into a fist as he prepared to knock on the door.

Before his knuckles could touch the wooden surface, Ortega noticed that the door was slightly ajar.

A terse voice from within called out, "Come in."

He hesitated for a moment, then pushed the door open.

The room beyond was as luxurious as the hallway that led to it. It was spacious, with high ceilings and walls adorned with more exquisite art and decorative pieces. The furniture was elegant and modern, arranged tastefully to create a comfortable yet sophisticated atmosphere.

In the center of the room, behind a large desk made of rich mahogany, sat Velvet. She was even more striking in person than in the photographs. Her attire was elegant, a black dress that hugged her figure and accentuated her slender frame.

Her violet eyes, which Ortega had seen in the photographs, now held a curious gleam as she looked at him.

Ortega closed the door behind him and placed his hands behind his back.

He gave a slight bow, "Good day, boss lady."

As his upper body bent, Ortega noticed Gabriella sitting in front of Velvet from the corner of his eye, and he couldn't help but cringe as he remembered their last encounter.

"Sit," came the command.

Ortega straightened, pulled out a chair, and sat beside Gabriella. The two of them exchanged a glance, and Ortega wondered the reason for his summons.

He was relieved that the woman beside him wasn't Dr. Sylvia, but the smug look Gabriella gave him made his heart cower.

Ortega awkwardly averted his gaze, his mind racing. He wanted to know what was going on but didn't probe. Instead, he leaned forward and looked at Velvet, showing that he was eager to hear her reason for calling him.

Velvet, calmly sitting and relaxed on her chair, cleared her throat as she began.

Her tone was sympathetic as she said, "So you have non-epileptic seizures. I'm sorry to hear that."

Ortega's heart quaked on hearing these words from her.

"And I'm finished..." he thought, feeling as if he was stabbed in the gut with an invisible knife. "I should've known she wouldn't keep her word." Ortega frowned, basking in the sting of betrayal.

How naive of him!

He thought he could confide in Dr. Sylvia because she was, well... a doctor!

However, it was a bad move on his part as he didn't account for one crucial fact: she was Velvet's subordinate, and her loyalty lay solely with the CEO.

The same applied to his other superiors. He couldn't trust any of them, and his heart hardened at the realization.

Suddenly, he felt cold as his eyes narrowed. He didn't like where this was going.