Page 1 of Unlocking my Boss's Heart

Chapter one

Anton

For a few minutes, the world was silent. The blinds were open, and all the lights were off. I sat in my office, savoring the darkness. With my chair turned away from the desk, I faced the floor-to-ceiling windows, waiting for the sun to rise over the Manhattan skyscrapers.

Slowly, the first orange wisps spilled from behind the high-rises, and I watched in blissful calm, sipping my steaming mug of black coffee. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, enjoying the solitude before the hectic day began. It was one of those rare moments where the stillness of the early morning seemed to stretch on indefinitely, a precious pause before the whirlwind of daily demands.

The only sound intruding on this serene moment was the ticking of my Rolex watch and the distant hum of the city awakening, but it was a soft, unobtrusive sound that barely disturbed my tranquility. I took another sip of my coffee,savoring the warmth that contrasted with the cool air of the office.

Then, just as I began to sink deeper into my tranquil state, a sharp knock on my office door jolted me from my meditative moment. I glanced at the clock, irritation flaring. My twenty minutes of solitude were supposed to last for another eleven minutes. I prided myself on this time before eight o’clock—an unwritten rule in my office that everyone respected. Yet, someone was knocking persistently on the door.

I swung my chair around and glared at the door. “What?”

“I’m sorry for disturbing you, sir.” The muffled reply came from Olivia, my assistant and legal secretary. “It’s an emergency.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose, annoyed. What kind of work emergency couldn’t wait another ten minutes? Though tempted to ignore her, Olivia had worked for me for more than two years and knew the rules well. She wouldn’t disturb me unless it was crucial.

“Sir?” she called out again.

I sighed, setting my coffee on my desk. The moment was ruined anyway. I picked up a remote and clicked a button. Artificial lights, too bright for my liking, filled the room. Another button closed the blinds.

“Come in,” I said gruffly.

The heavy door swung open, and she hurried in, clutching a clipboard against her chest. Her brown eyes darted nervously around, as if expecting to find some hidden horror. I could already feel a knot forming at the top of my spine, and the day hadn’t even begun yet. Today was going to be a long one.

“What is it?” I asked impatiently.

She extended the clipboard in my direction. “It’s John Robinson.”

“What about John Robinson? Is he alright?” I asked, feeling a twist in my stomach from the look on her face.

Had John been in an accident? My first thought was the hassle of managing the increased caseload if John was incapacitated.

She set the clipboard in front of me. “I think you should just look at this.”

I picked it up and flipped through the pages. As I skimmed through, a scowl formed on my forehead, progressively getting deeper. Familiar terms liketerminating,contract of employment, andimmediate effectstood out as though they were typed in bold.

“What is this?” My words came out as an angry growl, and I felt sorry that Olivia had to bear the brunt of it. It wasn’t her fault one of my top lawyers was quitting.

“He emailed it early this morning,” Olivia replied meekly. “I think he’s been hinting at it since last week.”

“What are you talking about? I can’t read hidden hints. Get me John’s number,” I ordered.

I meet with John several times a week, even yesterday, but he hadn't shown any signs of planning an impromptu exit. And I didn’t have time to figure out his motives. His actions, unprofessional as they stood, were my only concern. Right now, I have a mess to untangle.

“Promptly,” Olivia replied.

She turned to leave but stopped at the sharp click of heels announcing another presence. Leticia Griffin, one of my senior associates, walked in. It was still two minutes to eight. Leticia shouldn’t be in my office yet, either, but maybe she viewed the ajar door as an invitation to disregard my number one rule.

“What is this about John Robinson quitting?” Leticia asked, her voice shrill. “He left a note saying he won’t join the next staff meeting. Tell me this is a joke.”

Her tone betrayed the panic she was feeling. She held a note in her hand, crumpled now from her gripping it so tightly.

I ignored her question and turned to Olivia. “John’s phone number.”

Olivia scurried away, and Leticia took a seat opposite me.

“You could have just apologized,” Leticia said once we were alone.

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