You are a coworker

I could feel her smirk.

It was practically radiating off of her, smug and insufferable, as if she thought she had already won some unspoken game.

I didn't react.

I didn't rise to it.

Instead, I kept my posture perfectly composed, my tone calm and professional as I reached for my notebook and pen.

"First, I want your schedule," I said smoothly, eyes locked on hers. "Training. Media obligations. Meetings. Sponsorship events. Everything. And your adress too"

Freya blinked, as if genuinely surprised that I was ignoring her usual charm offensive. Then, slowly, she tilted her head, stretching lazily in her chair, her smirk widening.

"Oh?" she mused, voice dripping with amusement. "You wanna know all about my daily routine? That interested in me already?"

I didn't blink.

I simply extended my hand. "Your schedule."

Her smile sharpened, but after a brief pause, she reached into her pocket, pulling out her phone.

"Sure, sweetheart," she drawled. "You can have it. But only because I like watching you pretend you're not enjoying this."

I didn't react.

Didn't even bother acknowledging her attempt at getting under my skin.

Instead, I took the phone she handed me, scrolling through her poorly organized calendar.

It was chaotic.

Some events were inputted, but others were missing entirely. Random notes were scribbled in between. Meetings were misaligned, sponsorship obligations clashed with practice sessions, and a few events were just labeled with ???.

I sighed sharply.

"God," I muttered. "This is worse than I thought."

Freya grinned. "What? Not impressed by my impeccable planning?"

I didn't even glance at her. "I've seen toddlers with better organizational skills."

She let out a sharp laugh, clearly entertained.

I kept scrolling, mentally cataloging the mess I would have to fix, then—without hesitation—I held out my hand again.

"I need your number, too."

Freya's grin turned wicked.

"Now, Lydia," she teased, leaning forward on the desk, "if you wanted my number, you could've just asked nicely. No need for all this pretending it's work nonsense."

I met her gaze, completely unbothered.

"Shut up," I said smoothly. "It's practical. Nothing else."

She laughed, loud and genuine, clearly thriving off the interaction.

"God, you're so fun," she said, shaking her head as she pulled up her contact screen. "Alright, Ice Queen, go ahead. Take it."

I typed in her number, saved it without hesitation, then immediately sent a message to her phone.

Freya glanced down as it vibrated, unlocking it with a lazy flick of her thumb.

"Hmm," she mused. "What did you rename me as?"

I turned my screen toward her.

Freya.

Nothing else.

No emojis. No nicknames. Just her plain name, stark and unimpressed.

Her eyes widened, then—she looked personally offended.

"Oh my God," she gasped dramatically. "That's it? Just Freya?"

I raised an eyebrow. "What else was I supposed to put?"

Her jaw dropped.

"Lydia," she said, mock scandalized, "do you know how many people would kill to have my number?"

"That's nice," I said, unbothered.

"People dream about adding me to their contacts, and you just—you just put my name like I'm some random coworker?!"

"Because you are a coworker."

Freya clutched her chest. "You are so cold."

I stared at her, unimpressed.

"Want me to delete it instead?"

Her grin returned immediately. "Nah. I like the challenge."

I sighed, already regretting everything.

But at least now, I had what I needed.

A way to monitor her schedule. A direct line of communication. A starting point to bring some order to the disaster that was Freya Vesper.

The rest of our conversation stretched out, a mix of me trying to fix her mess of a calendar while she continued trying to test my patience.

She made everything a game.

The way she leaned in just a little too close when she spoke. The way she smirked every time I ignored her teasing. The way she thrived on pushing boundaries, seeing how far she could go before I snapped.

I didn't snap.

I didn't react.

I simply took control.

By the time we wrapped up, I had reshaped her entire schedule into something functional.

Freya had dramatically complained the entire time, of course.

"God, Lydia, you're killing all my fun," she groaned at one point.

"Good," I had replied.

Now, as I stood, gathering my things, I looked down at her with cool precision.

"See you tomorrow."

Freya grinned up at me, far too pleased with herself.

"Oh, sweetheart," she purred. "I can't wait."

I turned and walked out without another word.

Freya's smug grin was practically burned into my brain, and I could still hear the amusement in her voice when she had purred Oh, sweetheart, I can't wait.

I was going to kill her.

Or fire her.

Or—no, unfortunately, neither of those were options.

What a shame.

By the time I reached my car, my heels clicked a little too sharply against the pavement. I slid into the driver's seat, shut the door, and let out a long, exasperated sigh.

Then, I pulled out my phone and opened the Group Chat: Girl Power.

Lydia: It's Freya Vesper.

Chloe: OMFG

Elena: No. No way.

Chloe: I CALLED IT. I LITERALLY CALLED IT. PAY UP, ELENA.

Lydia: …You bet on this?

Elena: We bet on this.

Chloe: I SAID IT WOULD BE A TOTAL NIGHTMARE AND LOOK. LOOK AT THIS.

Lydia: It's fine.

Elena: Oh, honey. No, it's not.

Chloe: Wait, wait, WAIT. Did she flirt with you?

I stared at the message.

Lydia: She tried.

Chloe: SHE TRIED???

Elena: Of course, she did.

Chloe: DID YOU FLIRT BACK?

Lydia: No.

Chloe: Cold. Ice cold.

Elena: So… how bad is it?

Lydia: She's insufferable.

Chloe: SHOCKING

Elena: Truly a plot twist no one saw coming.

Chloe: Do you think she's gonna listen to you?

I exhaled slowly, tapping my nails against the steering wheel.

Freya Vesper was a chaos gremlin. A walking red flag. An absolute menace who thrived on testing limits.

But at the end of the day…

I always won.

Lydia: I can handle that.