Unexpected Lunch

The next morning was my usual chaos.

running into the office, greeting everyone with a squeaky

"Good morning!" and sketching a new dress before I'd even had breakfast.

Then came lunch.

"Hey Cleo, wanna come grab lunch with us?" I asked, peeking over her cubicle.

She looked at me like I'd grown a second head. "Us? Who's us?"

"Oh! Right, I forgot to tell you about my fabric partner. Come on, you'll meet him soon!"

She squinted suspiciously. "Fabric partner, huh..." she muttered under her breath.

On our way to the café, we bumped into Miya too — so naturally, I dragged her along. That made three of us, lined up at a sunny table.

Miya, never subtle, leaned in first. "So where's this infamous fabric partner of yours?"

Right on cue, there he was. Looking all clean-cut and suspiciously princely, strolling right towards us.

I beamed, puffing my chest like a proud peacock. "Ta-da! There he is! My new potential partner. Sit, sit!"

...Wait. Why do my two friends suddenly look like they've seen the Grim Reaper on his lunch break?

"Um... hello? Earth to Cleo? Miya? You both look—"

Cleo's voice came out as a whispery squeak. "Is... is that who you've been talking about?"

Huh? She must've never seen someone this good-looking in real life. Fair enough.

Then Miya snorted, covering her mouth. "Oh... Rose. You are so dead."

"WHAT?! What's happening—"

Meanwhile, Mr. Gorgeous was already pulling out the chair — so polite, even asking, "May I sit here?" with those devastatingly polite eyes that ruin my life.

Then, as if my day needed to get worse, Cleo leaned over, whispering louder than necessary, "She doesn't even know who he is."

"Eh?" Miya just giggled, evil incarnate. And Cleo dropped the bomb:

"THAT'S OUR BOSS — CECIL FONTAINE!"

I swear my soul left my body, came back, and left again for good measure.

"WHAT?!" I screeched, eyes bouncing between Cleo, Miya, and the calm, smiling Cecil Fontaine.

"W-Why didn't you tell me?!" I hissed at him.

He only shrugged, charmingly unbothered. "Well, you never asked."

Oh crabs. Oh triple crabs. And to top it off, I just remembered: he offered me a ride too.

I scrambled up, nearly knocking my chair over. "Miss Montasia?" he called, voice silky. "Are you alright?"

"YEAH YEAH I'M FINE, just— bathroom, yes, urgent bathroom break!"

I practically ran, half-blind, to the restroom, nearly crashing into the mirror.

"Ughhhh. Rose. Be. Professional." I scolded my reflection, which looked exactly as traumatized as I felt.

I grabbed my phone and did the only logical thing: dialed Zera.

"WHAT?! THAT GUY IS YOUR BOSS?!" she screeched at full volume through my speaker.

"Yeah, thanks for the help. Useless best friend!" I groaned, slapping my forehead against the mirror.

I took a deep breath, patted my cheeks, and marched back to the table like a warrior facing her doom.

Apparently, someone had already ordered for us — a full spread, way too fancy for my daily budget. Well, guess who paid for it? Yup. Boss Fontaine.

Everyone ate in suspicious silence. Not even a single "mmm" dared to escape. Until—

"Thank you for the meal, boss!" Miya chirped sweetly. Cleo echoed her, flashing me a mischievous grin — and then both traitors abandoned me alone with Mr. Prince CEO.

I sat frozen. He looked at me — and my brain short-circuited.

"Yes!" I squeaked before he even opened his mouth.

He chuckled. "Relax. I'm not here to scold you."

Ha. Sure. I forced my face into what I hoped was a polite smile and not a dying fish expression.

"Listen, Rose. Vincent's sick, so his urgent project landed on my desk. Remember that branch that needed your three dresses? I'm handling it now."

I nodded so fast my neck cracked. "Yes, sir."

"If you ask me, I'd rather launch it as your original design. Especially that green dress."

My mouth dropped. "So... you want me to remove the added details?"

He nodded. "Yes."

"Okay, that can be arranged. Anything else?"

"No, that's all. I need the final blueprint for all three dresses — patterns, spec sheets, everything — so I can send them to the branch and start production immediately."

My spine straightened a whole five centimeters. I felt so professional. Maybe I was CEO material after all!

"Alright, Miss Montasia. I'll check on you at four."

"Thank you, boss!"

And just like that, Cecil Fontaine vanished like a smooth criminal — leaving me half-mortified, half-floating with pride.

I basically skipped back to my desk. Printed out the spec sheets. Checked every stitch twice.

I was deep in my zone — until a certain nosy cat pounced.

"Pssst. How was lunch with the boss?" Cleo grinned, leaning on my chair.

"Don't. Even. Start."

She cackled so hard I wanted to stuff a roll of fabric in her mouth. "Your fabric partner turned out to be the CEO! Rose Montasia: Chaos Magnet strikes again!"

I buried my face in my stack of patterns. "Please. Go away. Let me live in peace."

She flicked her hair. "Can't help it. You look so cute when you're embarrassed. What are you working on now?"

I flipped my sketchbook open like a secret treasure. "The final pattern drafts and spec sheets. See? One version with the extra details, one without."

She whistled. "Wow. Well, good luck, oh mighty boss baby." And she strolled back to her desk, still giggling.

I sighed and focused back on my green dress pattern.

Then, like a bad echo, Vincent's voice crawled into my brain: "You can add something here. It looks empty..."

AGH. Brain, stop replaying him!

A soft knock snapped me out of my daydream.

"Miss Montasia."

There he was — Cecil Fontaine, round two.

I shoved the files toward him like an overachiever. "This is everything. I did two versions: one original, one with the added details. You can pick whichever you want."

He flipped through them with that calm CEO face. Then, to my surprise, he smiled. "Really good, Montasia. You've got talent."

Before I could melt into a puddle of pride, he handed me a new file.

"What's this?" I blinked.

"It's an appointment letter. I want you to work full-time under me. If you sign it, your tuition — everything — covered. You don't have to finish school if you don't want to."

My mouth opened. Closed. Opened again. What.

He raised a hand gently. "Don't panic. It's just an appraisal. Take your time. It's your life, Rose. You decide."

Then he left me standing there, staring at the file like it was a marriage proposal.

Work directly under him? Drop out of school?

I stuffed the file in my drawer, grabbed my bag, and sighed.

"Let's go home, Cleo..."