Chapter 3-When Tides Turn

*Aryanna*

Once I was in the elevator, I adjusted my satin blouse before tugging my lace black pencil skirt down a few inches. My hair was pulled tight into a ponytail. The elevator dinged open, and I stepped out, walking down the endless corridor ahead of me. When I reached the double doors, I smoothed a hand over my skirt and then knocked politely. Even from the other side, I could hear his tortured groan.

“Come in,” he snapped.

I nearly balked at the tone, but it was too late to turn back. I carefully opened the door just wide enough to poke my head inside to glimpse the director sitting behind his desk. He had a heap of folders atop it, an assortment of loose documents before him, and a branded pen in hand. He hadn’t even glanced up to acknowledge me yet. I slipped inside and closed the door as delicately.

Finally, Mr. Brown’s eyes flicked up with disinterest and then flared in shock.

“Aryanna, it’s you,” he said, a hint of interest flickering behind a guarded smile. He dropped the pen, giving me his full attention. “Is something wrong?”

“No, no, I’m sorry to disturb you, so I’ll get right to the point. I discovered that the Miller Corporation is hosting an upcoming corporate banquet at a high-end hotel. We didn't luck out with his PA, but what if we could bypass intermediaries and approach Mr. Miller directly again? A personal conversation could provide the perfect opportunity to persuade him that ending the partnership would be a strategic misstep.”

Mr. Brown reclined in his chair, observing me with a look of quiet admiration that he couldn’t entirely conceal. He nodded thoughtfully, his gray eyes never wavering from mine.

“I’m confident that if Mr. Miller is presented with our perspective and the arguments regarding the enduring value of our partnership, he will recognize that there are still many prosperous years ahead for us to build upon.”

A smile spread across my face. “That’s my belief too, sir.”

“I’ll do some digging around and see if I can pull a few strings. Thanks again for the tip.”

I nodded. “Just happy to help.”

His eyes combed over my body as he arched an eyebrow.

“I’ll leave you to it.” I turned on my heel and walked out, suddenly needing some air.

***

Several days passed, and I didn’t hear anything from the director. He had said he would look into it, and I knew he would. He wanted the restoration of the partnership just as badly as I did. So I didn’t push it. I submitted the suggestion and waited. In the meantime, my life was churning from choices that were not my own—I had no power to restore the tether that sundered me from Darren. I had to wait, but I had been waiting for so long that I didn’t want to wait any longer.

That was until an unexpected visit from Mr. Brown, who breezed into my office.

“I spoke with a buddy of mine. He’s in private equities and receives an invitation to the banquet almost every year. He also mentioned the possibility of getting me an invitation but made no guarantees. He said I’d hear from him soon, which is why you haven’t heard from me yet.”

I nodded. “Well, I knew you would tell me when there was something worth mentioning. And I must say, I’m surprised by the update. You truly didn’t have to, sir.”

“Of course I did,” he replied. “Without you, I wouldn’t even have known about the event. Barely a week in, and you’re already proving just how valuable you are to me,” he said, but then amended, “valuable to the firm.”

***

I arrived home late in the evening. At the edge of twilight, I headed toward the far corner where the old wooden staircase spiraled up to the upper level. My phone rang. When I saw it was from Mr Brown, I answered swiftly.

“Sir.”

“Aryanna, I hope I’m not calling at a bad time.”

“No, of course not. Just got home. What can I do for you?”

“I want you to be my plus one,” he said bluntly.

I frowned, but then my eyebrows shot up. “Wait, does that mean?”

“My buddy wrangled two invites to the banquet, and I would like to give the other to you. You’ve earned it. So the question is, will you be joining me?”

“That would be incredible. Wow, I’m honored, sir. Thank you, I’d love to accompany you.”

“Excellent. I’ll forward you the details. Make sure to wear something nice.”

He hung up, and I tossed the phone on the bed.

A wave of exhilaration surged through me. As that thrill began to ebb away, dread lurked just beneath the surface. I was relieved that my efforts had not been in vain. A tempest still brewed within, where fear and resentment intertwined, binding together like a tightly wound knot that refused to unravel. The mere thought of him did that to me, undoing my sanity at the seams.

I had to focus. This was my chance.

***

The following day, when I made it back home, Shelley was already choosing my attire for the fateful night.

The myriad of fabrics and colors lay strewn across the floor. Shelley stood at the center of the chaos, her enthusiasm infectious as she held up a shimmering gown that caught the light like a constellation of stars.

“Try this one first,” Shelley insisted.

I went over to snatch the hanger and examined the dress. “This one shows too much cleavage.”

“That’s exactly why I chose it.”

I pulled the dress to my chest, visualizing myself in it as Shelley rifled through a collection of accessories on the nearby vanity, her fingers dancing over shimmering necklaces and sparkling earrings. Suddenly, Shelley whipped around, holding up a pair of earrings that twinkled in the light.

“These will go so well with that dress. Trust me.”

Then, I thought of him, hardly needing to deliberate. I was acutely aware of Darren’s cunning intellect, which meant I had to outmaneuver him with even greater cleverness. Gaining proximity to him, even within a business setting, let alone earning his trust, would be a daunting challenge. Therefore, I had to tread carefully, for any misstep could ruin my plans.

“Aryanna!”

I snapped back to reality. “What?”

“Where’d you go?” Shelley asked.

I shook my head slightly. “Sorry, I was just… thinking.”

“So what’s the plan for tomorrow?”

“After work, Mr. Brown and I are going straight to the hotel. So I’ll see you there?”

She grinned wickedly. “Oh, hell yeah.”

***

The night of the banquet, the sleek black car glided to a stop in front of the opulent hotel. The director, dressed in a tailored suit, climbed out first. He rounded the back and opened my door, extending his hand to assist me out of the car.

I took his hand, feeling the reassuring strength of his grip as he helped me out and guided me onto the sidewalk. He led me toward the wide staircase. He offered me his arm, and I took it, feeling his muscular arm under his tuxedo as I clutched my bag.

Together, we ascended the steps, the click of my heels echoing in the hushed elegance of the evening. An aura of grandeur permeated the air as golden embellishments adorned the walls, the ambient radiance of soft lighting accentuating the intricate details of the architectural design. We were greeted by the soft notes of a live string quartet playing in the background, adding to the atmosphere of sophistication.

My eyes were on the hunt for Darren Miller as I maintained a cool composure.

As we moved deeper into the foyer, I marveled at the elite guests milling about—industry leaders and visionaries—each engaging in prim conversations. The director, attentive to my presence, guided me through the crowd, ensuring I felt both supported and seen. A friend of his introduced us to key figures, his voice steady and commanding as he navigated the social intricacies with ease.

Once the director became occupied, I slipped away into the sea of the elite, scanning the room, but saw no sign of him. My phone buzzed in my bag. I fished it out and read a text from Shelley, detailing where to meet. She was there and had just discovered that Darren was set to meet an important guest in the top-floor private room.

Slipping my phone back into my purse, I glanced over at the director before leaving, weaving past the biggest titans and tycoons of the world. In the foyer, Shelley was already waiting, dressed in her server’s uniform, holding a tray of champagne flutes.

“Follow me, ma’am,” she said coolly.

The warm hum of conversation dissolved into a symphony of kitchen sounds: the sharp hiss of oil meeting hot pans, the steady, deliberate cadence of knives against chopping boards, and the occasional clatter of utensils punctuating the air like an orchestrated rhythm. Amid the hustle and bustle of the culinary center, no one even noticed us. Shelley set her tray on the counter before we slinked out the back undetected.

“Where exactly are we going?” I asked when we were alone.

“The employee elevator is tucked away at the end of this winding path.”

A distant echo of voices caught my ear, and I grabbed Shelley and yanked her to a stop. She whipped around, and I touched a finger to my lips. Confused, she trusted me regardless and stood down. Moving past her, I headed to the end of the first corridor and then motioned for her to come to the corner. My chest tightened as I slinked into the shadows.

We could both hear them at this range.

“It’s not going to kill him,” a woman’s voice murmured, tinged with a peculiar mix of assurance and urgency. “It’ll just help Darren… relax.”

A hesitant pause followed before a man replied, his voice low and uneasy. “I don’t know about this anymore.”

Curiosity piqued, I edged closer, peeking around the corner. A young woman stood in close conversation with a waiter, her posture tense, and her expression veiled by shadows.

“Come on,” she urged, her tone a hushed insistence.

“No, I c-can’t,” he stammered. “I’m sorry, but no.”

He pivoted to leave, but she grabbed his arm to force him around. My head darted back as I edged away for a moment.

“No one turns their back on me, especially not some busboy.”

“Just slip it into his drink, and I’ll triple the offer. You need the money, don’t you? Don’t waste time by pretending otherwise.”

I sneaked another peek. The waiter’s shoulders sagged under the weight of reluctant agreement. He exhaled sharply, resignation bleeding into his words. “Fine. I’ll do it,” he muttered. “I’ll let you know when it’s done.”

I looked back at Shelley. Her horrified expression mirrored my own.