Chapter 37: Cancel It
Monday mornings at StoneTech had their own rhythm—sharp, efficient, and relentless. The revolving glass doors spun nonstop as employees streamed in, coats still damp from the early drizzle outside.
Phones rang from open offices, heels tapped across marble floors, and the faint smell of strong coffee clung to the air.
Bella adjusted the strap of her bag higher on her shoulder as she stepped out of the elevator. Her fingers curled tightly around a cardboard tray balancing two steaming cups—one for herself, one for her boss.
Her heart thudded in a steady, nervous beat, though she wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t her first Monday here, not by a long shot. But something about the weight of this particular morning pressed harder against her chest.
Perhaps, it was because she was hoping he’d continue playing professional. She didn’t know how unbearable it would be for her if he were to change back especially since she was yet to get a job offer.
She pushed open Jake Stone’s office door with her free hand, and the familiar sight of him hit her like a jolt.
As usual, he was already at his desk, perfectly straight-backed, his dark brown hair brushed into precise order. A stack of reports sat neatly in front of him, each page covered in sharp notations.
Seeing, Bella couldn’t help but wonder how he could always arrive before her when she was never late. Did that mean he came to work by seven?
She should her head.
That isn’t what she’s supposed to be thinking. Bella told herself as she moved forward quietly and set the cup down on his desk.
"Your coffee," she said, her voice polite but steady.
Jake glanced up just long enough to meet her gaze. "Thank you." His tone was clipped, professional, carrying none of the tension or heat that had once made every exchange between them feel like a battle of wills.
Bella smoothed her folder against her palm. "Your schedule for today is tight. You have the Sweliss team call at ten, the departmental heads meeting at eleven, and then your consultation with Mr. Halvors at twelve-thirty. After that—"
"Cancel everything after twelve," Jake cut in, his voice even but decisive.
Bella froze, her brows lifting slightly in confusion. "Cancel?" she asked, wondering why he was giving such orders.
"Yes. Including Halvors. Rearrange it for another day," he said patiently as though he was talking to a twelve-year-old.
Her lips parted, confusion creeping into her chest. "But sir, the Halvors consultation is important. It was set two weeks ago—"
"I know that. You don’t have to remind me. Just cancel it," Jake repeated, his gaze steady on her. Then, as though softening the order, he leaned back in his chair, hands steepling. "There’s someone I’ll be meeting outside the office. Someone of importance. You won’t find it in the calendar because this was arranged through my mother. I can always reschedule the Halvors consultation but the meeting i have by twelve? I can’t."
Bella’s heartbeat quickened. "Is it that important?"
"Yes." His expression remained unreadable, his tone carrying no hint of further explanation. "Just clear the schedule after noon. That’s all."
She nodded quickly, forcing her thoughts into order. "Understood. I’ll send the necessary notices."
"Good." With that, Jake lowered his gaze back to the documents in front of him, dismissing her with the smallest shift of his posture.
Bella lingered a second longer than necessary, waiting for something more—a flicker of smugness, a sly remark, a deliberate test of her composure. But none came. His attention was fixed, his manner calm, entirely professional.
She sighed in relief. Glad that phase was over. He’d probably seen that she wouldn’t give in and had decided to let her be.
She left the office, quietly closing the door behind her.
Back at her desk, the hum of her computer filled the silence. She busied herself with the cancellations, typing up polite rescheduling emails, each keystroke precise. Her reflection glimmered faintly on the screen—her lips pressed thin, her brows drawn tight.
It’s been precisely seven days. Seven workdays since Jake’s sudden shift. Since he’d stopped pressing, stopped provoking, stopped cornering her with that suffocating presence. And in those seven days, he’d been nothing but civil. Respectful, even.
She just hoped he’d continue this way. At least, now she wouldn’t have to be on eggshells around him or always expecting the worst.
She could work freely now. She thought smiling.
Her phone buzzed against the desk, and she sighed before glancing at the screen.
Her heart skipped a best when she saw it was a text from Raymond.
What did he want on a Monday morning? She mused as she picked up the phone to see what he’d sent.
[Hey Bella. Would you be free during lunch break today? I thought we could go out somewhere outside StoneTech. Just a proper meal—nothing formal.]
Her shoulders sagged and she exhaled loudly. Back to this again.
She stared at the words for a long moment, irritation and guilt tangling together in her chest. She’d made it clear before—she didn’t want more than friendship. Yet no matter how many times she tried to draw the line, Raymond always seemed to find ways to blur it.
Her thumb hovered above the keyboard, ready to type out a curt No, I can’t. But the words stuck. She exhaled, rubbing her forehead with her free hand.
Before she could gather the nerve to finish the reply, another notification pinged—an urgent email from one of the project heads. Bella’s eyes flicked from the message to her inbox, then back to her phone. With a sigh, she set the device down.
"I’ll reply later," she murmured.
But as the minutes stretched into hours and the tasks began to pile higher—rescheduling, drafting briefs, forwarding calls—the text slid further into the back of her mind.
She didn’t see Raymond’s message flashing on the lock screen again, or waiting to be replied to.
Instead, her thoughts circled Jake’s earlier words. Someone of importance.
Who could that even be?
Her pulse quickened every time she asked herself that. He had been too calm, too precise. And though she tried to convince herself otherwise, Bella couldn’t shake the gnawing sense that whatever awaited at noon was something that involved her, whether she liked it or not.