Chapter 39

Chapter

Thirty-Nine

"Many people will walk in and out of your life, but only true friends will leave footprints in your heart"

― Eleanor Roosevelt

Sofiya

Taking a deep breath out, I felt completely exhausted, yearning to crawl into bed and leave the night behind.

"You know these aren't in style anymore, right?"

I rolled my eyes and continued searching for the document I needed to sign. It was crucial for confirming that the goods had arrived intact, so the movers could proceed. Three main sculptures—Demeter, Persephone, and Hades—had arrived from London for our upcoming exhibition titled "The Changing Season," where their myth would be explored and debated .

The story of Persephone is widely known: the daughter of Demeter, goddess of agriculture, abducted by Hades, god of the underworld. Her absence in the underworld brings winter, and her return to her mother marks the start of spring and fertility.

This tale of love, loss, and seasonal change has captivated hearts for generations, and I'm thrilled to bring it to life through this exhibition.

After much persuasion, I managed to convince Mario Gruzzio to lend us his four paintings—Winter, Autumn, Spring, and Summer—to enhance our exhibition and provide a visual understanding of the myth. He happily confirmed that they'll arrive in two days.

"I mean, really, Sofiya, tights with a jean skirt? Who are you trying to scare off? You're practically a fashion horror story."

"Ugh, come on. You're giving me a headache," I muttered, rummaging through my desk's top drawer. I could've sworn I left it there yesterday, but the paper seemed to have magically vanished. Where the hell is it?

"And you're hurting my eyes. Anyway, do you think Angelo will come today? I know he had a meeting last night, and he usually doesn't show up the next day, but you never know."

"Why?" I asked, kneeling down to search under my desk for the missing paper. "Planning to seduce one of the movers again?"

"Not seduce, honey, fuck," Jade corrected with a smirk. "And by the way, that only happened once."

Standing back up, I dusted off my legs and placed my hands on my hips. "Alright, alright. But seriously, have you seen my delivery paper? "

"Oh, here," Jade said, handing it to me with a cheeky grin. I stared at her, utterly baffled.

"What?"

"You had it the entire time?" I exclaimed loudly, throwing my hands up in frustration.

She gave me a sheepish look, scratching the side of her neck. "I didn't know you were looking for it."

"I am going to kill you today. What did you think I was looking for?"

"I don't know… Your dignity?" she teased, unable to hold back a smile. "I mean, come on, honey, this outfit is horrendous."

I scoffed and walked out of my office. "Coming from the girl who hooked up with a mover just because he complimented her outfit."

"Touché," she chuckled. "But you have to admit, he was so damn hot."

"Barely," I muttered under my breath as she playfully bumped my shoulder. We linked arms and strolled side by side to the elevator.

"You're just jealous of my impeccable taste in men," she quipped, giving me a playful wink.

"Oh, of course, Jade," I replied, rolling my eyes with a grin. "Your taste is truly unmatched."

Jade, our fabulous COO, has held her position for an impressive four years. Standing at 5'8" with long black hair cascading down her shoulders and mesmerizing dark eyes, she could easily pass for a siren emerging from the ocean, ready to enchant and captivate. In a humorous twist, she sort of does—with her irresistible charm and quick wit.

From the moment we met, we hit it off and became fast friends. She's the embodiment of everything I wish I could be – bubbly , carefree, and spirited. Last week, we celebrated her 28th birthday, but you'd never guess it.

Despite being a few years older than me, she often behaves like a playful and whiny teenager who knows exactly how to get what she wants. It's both amusing and envious to witness her effortlessly work her way through life.

"You look almost normal today," I couldn't help but tease her as I glanced at her velvety, tight long-sleeve black dress and black high heels. "What's going on?"

Her outfit today, while tamer than her usual attires, still screamed elegance—like she was headed to a cabaret or a Great Gatsby party, minus the feathers and shimmers. Compared to her typical bold choices, it seemed almost normal—well, by Jade's standards, at least.

She chuckled, her eyes sparkling mischievously, as she flipped her silky hair over her shoulder. Then she turned around, revealing her backless dress that plunged so low I could almost see the beginning of her ass cheeks.

The audacious outfit left me in awe, her two dimples and a vibrant dragon tattoo on full display. The dragon, breathing fire, covered most of her back. Every time I saw it, goosebumps erupted on my skin. I couldn't help but imagine the pain she endured for hours, maybe days, to get that striking piece of art etched onto her skin.

I gasped. "You're crazy."

"I know I have issues but hey, that's why I am special, right?" She winked and blew me a kiss as the elevator doors opened.

"Why are you avoiding Angelo?"

Their mutual disdain was so blatant that I often wondered what happened between them. She must have some serious dirt, because no matter how much chaos she caused, he never dared to fire her .

Like last week when she threw her own surprise 28th birthday party at the museum, adorning some sculptures with clown masks and gowns, transforming the place into a whimsical circus.

Or the infamous incident when she "accidentally" spilled her entire cup of hazelnut coffee on his computer during an important meeting with the Spanish firm Brojer, crucial suppliers for Angelo's new building in Washington. The tension in the room was so thick you could cut it with a knife, but Jade stayed cool, flashing a sly smile as if it were all just a harmless mistake.

And who could forget the most scandalous act she pulled off in his office—hooking up with an unknown mover while he was away in Paris? She "forgot" or rather left behind her "tools"—a cheeky dildo and a pair of lacy underwear—on his desk as a playful, or rather provocative, reminder of her bold escapade.

"I'm not avoiding him. I just don't want to see his ugly face at 9 in the morning. I mean, who knows? I might catch the plague just by looking at his evil face."

"The plague?" I couldn't help but laugh.

She shrugged, her grin widening. "I swear, Angelo's like a walking cold virus waiting to infect everyone around him."

"Am I, now?" A voice interrupted, and we both stopped in our tracks, freezing in place.

Of course, Angelo had to come and find us at the most perfect timing ever.

Screw my life.

"Go on, Miss Whitenhouse. Tell me how much I make you sick."

Wearing a perfectly tailored black Dolce and Gabbana suit, sleeves casually rolled up, and a black Montclair watch that probably cost more than the entire building, Angelo Lazzio looked like he had stepped straight out of a luxury fragrance ad. His light brown hair shimmered under the hallway lights, and his dark eyes blazed with fury as he glared at Jade beside me.

For someone who supposedly never sleeps, his face showed no signs of fatigue.

I always found him cold, but today, the anger emanating from him was so intense and scary that I almost wanted to run away or hide behind Jade, who always seemed unfazed by his presence.

He had always been polite with me, barely talking unless necessary, and I honestly loved it that way. But right now, seeing him like this, I couldn't help but feel a bit intimidated.

Even in the midst of his anger, I couldn't deny his undeniable charm, making it easy to see why some people were drawn to him, even if he was a walking cold virus to others. Jade's words, not mine.

Jade's mischievous grin didn't waver. "Oh, you know, you kind of spread flu vibes around the office. Nothing too serious."

Angelo's eyes narrowed. "Flu vibes, huh? Is that your take on my professionalism?"

She shrugged. "I'm just looking out for the well-being of the staff. Can't have everyone catching a cold, now, can we?"

"How thoughtful of you, Miss Whitenhouse. Your concern is truly touching."

She crossed her arms. "Someone has to care, considering how often you're absent."

A tense silence fell between them, like invincible forces clashing for dominance. Jade's eyes challenged him, her chest rising and falling faster. Angelo remained in place, his icy composure seemingly unshaken, though a flicker of frustration crossed his face as he wiped his lips irritably .

It felt like watching two boxers in a ring, neither willing to back down. Their verbal blows and icy glares were jabs and hooks thrown with precision. They were locked in a fierce battle of wills, and I held my breath, waiting to see who would land the knockout punch.

"I didn't realize my absence was such a problem for you, Miss Whitenhouse. I'll make sure to be here more often then, for your personal pleasure, of course."

Jade's cheeks turned bright red, whether from anger or embarrassment, it was hard to tell. "Oh, don't flatter yourself, Mr. Lazzio. Your presence is hardly a pleasure for anyone, especially not for me."

Okay, stop.

I'd heard enough.

I coughed loudly. "Good morning, Sir. I'd love to discuss the transfer of Mario's painting if you're available this afternoon."

Angelo turned his attention to me. "Of course," he replied, his tone more professional. "I am available in the afternoon. Let's meet in my office at 2."

With a final glance at Jade, he pivoted and strode back toward the elevator.

The doors began to close, but just before they sealed him off, he couldn't resist a parting shot: "Stay away from me, Miss Whitenhouse. Wouldn't want you to catch the flu."

As the elevator doors closed, the ringing bell echoed in the silence that followed.

"Well, damn," I muttered under my breath, shooting Jade a hard look.

"What?" she said innocently.

I rolled my eyes, shaking my head in exasperation.

Turning away, I made my way through the museum's baseme nt to the open door leading outside, where three annoyed movers were still waiting for me.