Chapter 2 - Do Not Let Them See That
The doorknob turned before I could get to my feet.
I heard it click and my chest locked again, not from asthma that time but from panic. I was on my knees leaning against the side of my own desk in a ten-thousand-dollar suit, damp with sweat, breathing like I'd run stairs. Elena was still crouched in front of me with that blue inhaler in both hands, staring past me toward the door.
She moved fast. She shoved the inhaler she had just used into the front pocket of her apron and then reached for the floor behind me where the other one lay. The empty one. She grabbed it too.
"Don't let them see that," she whispered.
It wasn't loud. It was low and flat and final, and she didn't look at me when she said it. She was already pulling her hands back into her lap, already shifting her weight so her apron covered her pockets.
The door opened.
Mara stuck her head in, my assistant, tablet against her chest, already talking. "Julian, they're ready for you in—" She stopped. Her eyes went from me on the floor to Elena kneeling next to me. "Oh. Is everything okay?"
My mouth was dry. That copper taste was still in the back of my throat from trying to breathe. I could feel Elena's hand near my elbow, not holding me up, just there.
I forced a short laugh and it came out rough. "Yeah. Yeah, we're good."
Mara didn't move. "You look—"
"Spilled coffee," I said. "All over the baseboard. Elena was helping me get it before it stained."
It was a stupid lie. There was no cup anywhere. But it was the first thing that came into my head that explained why we were both down on the dark floor by the desk.
Elena didn't correct me. She nodded once, quick, and looked down at the floor like she was checking for a stain. "Almost got it," she said quietly.
Mara frowned. She glanced at the desk, the clean floor, then back at me. "Are you sure? You're pale."
"I'm fine," I said. I put one hand on the edge of the desk and pushed myself up. My legs shook. I had to stop halfway and pretend I was adjusting my jacket. Elena stood too, slower than me, smoothing her apron over her pockets with both hands. The fabric settled flat. You couldn't tell she was holding anything.
"Can you push it ten minutes?" I asked. "Tell them I'm finishing something with building services."
Mara hesitated. I could see her weighing it. The board members were already in the conference room down the hall. Delaying wasn't like me.
"Ten minutes," she said. "Are you—"
"Ten minutes," I repeated. "Please."
She gave Elena another look, then nodded and backed out. "I'll tell them."
The door clicked shut.
The silence after was worse than the knock. The cool light from the windows hit the dark floor and bounced back up, and I could see my own reflection warped in it. I stayed leaning against the desk because I didn't trust my legs yet. Each breath still whistled a little on the way out.
Elena took a step back toward the lamp. She kept her hands in front of her, fingers laced over that apron pocket.
"You should sit," she said.
"I'm okay standing."
"You almost—" She stopped herself. She breathed in through her nose. "Sit. Please."
I sat down in my chair. It felt too big suddenly. She stayed standing, which flipped everything wrong. In my office, nobody stood over me.
"Give those back," I said. I held out my hand. "The inhalers."
She didn't move. "Which one is yours?"
"Both. The blue one is mine. I need—"
"The one on the floor was empty," she said. Her voice stayed even. "You know that."
I stared at her. My own assistant thought I'd spilled coffee. My chest still ached when I breathed deep. And this woman I'd seen maybe three times emptying my trash was standing in my office holding my medical history in her apron.
"I know," I said. "That's why I need to see them."
She shook her head once. "Not with the door like that. Anyone walks in—"
"Then lock it."
She glanced at the door. She didn't lock it. She just lowered her voice. "If Mara tells someone you were on the floor, and then they find two inhalers on your desk, what do you tell them?"
I didn't have an answer. I hated that she was right.
I leaned forward, elbows on my knees, trying to get a full breath without her noticing I was trying. The wood of the desk was cool against my arm. Outside the glass, the sky was flat gray over the city. Inside, that little lamp threw warm light across her hands.
"Why didn't you correct me?" I asked. "About the coffee."
She looked at me for a long second. "You needed ten minutes."
"That's it?"
"That's it for now."
She slipped one hand into her pocket, just to check. I heard the faint plastic click of the two inhalers touching. She left them there.
I rubbed my face. "Mara's going to ask again. She's good at her job. She notices things."
"Then you tell her you felt dizzy," Elena said. "Skipped breakfast. That's normal. That's not—" She gestured vaguely toward my chest. "That."
"You don't even know me," I said.
"I know you don't want them to see that." She nodded toward her pocket. "Same as me."
That stopped me. Before I could ask what she meant, there was another knock, lighter this time. Mara's voice through the wood. "Julian? Five more minutes. They're asking."
I looked up at Elena. She was already moving toward the side of the office with the cleaning cart, putting distance between us, making it look normal.
"Tell them I'll be there," I called.
Footsteps faded down the hall.
Elena turned back. She pulled the empty inhaler halfway out of her pocket, just enough for me to see the blue plastic, then pushed it back down.
"I'll hold these," she said. "Until after your meeting. You can breathe okay now?"
I wanted to say no. I wanted to demand them back. Instead I nodded, because she was watching my breathing like she could count it.
May you like
"Walk me through what you need later," she said. "After."
And she left both inhalers in her apron and went back to pretending to wipe the baseboard, while I sat behind my desk trying to look like a man who hadn't just owed his next breath to her.
