Chapter 2: Work She Can Call Her Own
I woke the next morning with Daniel’s name still lodged in my thoughts.
The staffing update had said he planned to return to the branch that day. I had no reason to believe he would come looking for me, and I reminded myself that I no longer worked there. Still, the thought of him stepping back into the same building where Aiden and I had stood made the distance between my old life and my new one feel thinner than it should have.
I dressed for work, took a steadying breath, and left the thought behind as best I could.
At the office, my morning began as usual. I straightened the folders on Aiden’s desk, checked that the meeting room was ready, and returned to my own office. The routine was familiar now, though it still wasn’t the kind of work I had studied for.
A few minutes later, Aiden called me in.
He had the branch file open in front of him.
“Good morning, sir.”
“Good morning. I need a concise follow-up summary from yesterday’s visit. Just the confirmed facts, the open questions, and who needs to respond.”
“I’ve already started one.”
“I saw your notes. Use those, but check one item before you send it. The branch report lists eighteen forms as received, while the attached log appears to show seventeen.”
I took the file from him.
“I’ll confirm the count with the branch.”
“Thank you. Don’t assume it’s an error until you’ve checked.”
“I won’t.”
Back at my desk, I opened the report alongside the notes I had prepared the previous afternoon. The numbers didn’t match. Eighteen had been entered in the summary, but the log listed seventeen completed forms.
I checked the pages again. There was a separate line about one form that still needed a signature, but it wasn’t clear whether the report counted it as received.
Before I changed anything, I called the branch.
A staff member answered and put me through to someone who had worked with the file.
“I’m checking one detail in the follow-up report,” I said. “The summary lists eighteen forms received, but I can account for seventeen completed forms in the log. Is there another one that came in?”
There was a brief pause as the employee checked.
“We have seventeen completed. The eighteenth is here, but it’s waiting for a signature.”
“So it hasn’t been received as a completed form?”
“That’s right.”
“Thank you. I’ll record it as seventeen completed and one pending signature.”
“That’s fine.”
I thanked the employee and ended the call. No one had concealed anything. The summary had simply combined two different statuses into one number.
I corrected the report to distinguish the completed forms from the pending one. Then I added a note that the branch had confirmed the count and left the employee’s name out of the summary. The report needed to state what happened, not turn a simple clarification into blame.
Before sending it, I compared every figure against the file and read the whole thing from the beginning. I wanted the summary to be brief, accurate, and useful. When I was satisfied, I sent it to Aiden.
He came to my office a few minutes later with the report open on his tablet.
“You confirmed the discrepancy?”
“Yes. There are seventeen completed forms and one waiting for a signature. I separated those in the summary.”
“And you didn’t label the original entry an error.”
“No. The employee explained why the totals differed. The report was unclear, but the facts are straightforward now.”
He looked at the page again.
“That’s good work.”
The praise was simple. It wasn’t exaggerated, and he didn’t make it sound as if I had done something extraordinary. Somehow, that made it easier to believe.
“Thank you, sir.”
“You’re careful about how you present information. That matters.”
I glanced at the report on his tablet. I had spent most of my first weeks arranging his office, trying not to make mistakes in small things. Now I was looking at work that depended on the skills I had trained to use.
“I’m glad it was useful.”
He was quiet for a moment, then leaned one shoulder against the doorframe.
“What kind of work do you want to do here, Hira?”
The question caught me off guard.
“I’m not sure you want the short answer or the polite one.”
“The honest one.”
I considered my words before answering. I didn’t want to sound ungrateful for the job I had. I also didn’t want to pretend I was happy doing only what I had been given.
“I studied Business Administration. I’d like to work on operations, reports, or coordination—something where I can use that training. I don’t mind helping with the office, but I don’t want my whole role to be arranging your desk.”
A faint smile crossed his face.
“That’s fair.”
“I can do the work you assign me. I just want a chance to show what I can do.”
“You’ve already started doing that.”
His answer warmed me, but I kept my expression steady. Encouragement was valuable. It was not the same as a clear job description.
“May I ask something about the assistant assignment?”
“Of course.”
“The trip email included the payment arrangements, and I appreciate that. But I don’t know whether the personal-assistant work was only for that day or whether you’re considering a continuing change. Before I take on more, I’d like to understand the duties and how the role would be defined.”
Aiden didn’t answer right away. He looked at me as if he were weighing the question, not taking offense.
“That’s reasonable,” he said. “I asked you to come on the trip because you had the skills for it. I haven’t made a formal decision about a permanent change.”
“Then I’d prefer to have the responsibilities in writing before we decide anything.”
“We can do that. I’ll speak with the appropriate people and get you a description of the assignment. If we discuss a larger role, we’ll make sure the terms are clear.”
“Thank you.”
He nodded.
“You shouldn’t have to guess what your job is.”
The words settled in me more deeply than I expected. For weeks, I had tried to be useful without knowing whether anyone saw me as more than the person who kept Aiden’s office in order. I wanted an opportunity, but I wanted it to be real—something I could earn and understand, not a favor I would have to repay with gratitude.
Aiden returned to his office. I went back to my work.
The rest of the morning passed in a rhythm of calls, edits, and small tasks. I updated the follow-up list, organized the documents that still needed answers, and made sure the corrected count appeared everywhere it was supposed to. When Aiden asked me to send the summary to the team handling the branch follow-up, I did so with the same care I had used to prepare it.
By lunchtime, I had almost forgotten to worry about Daniel.
Almost.
A new email came through later that afternoon. The subject line referred to the branch’s staffing update. I opened it, expecting another routine change to a schedule.
The message said Daniel would be coming to headquarters the next day for a work meeting.
For a moment, I couldn’t move.
He was no longer a name attached to a branch I had visited once. He was coming here—to the office where I worked, where I had just begun to prove that I could be more than the role I’d been given.
I read the message again, hoping I had misunderstood.
May you like
I hadn’t.
Daniel would be at headquarters tomorrow.
