It was a little past ten when Eve finally let herself sink into the old couch again, a cheap bottle of red wine in one hand and the remote in the other. She didn't usually drink, not alone anyway—but after the day she'd had, and the way that interview went... she figured she earned at least one glass.
Or three.
She sipped from the glass slowly while reruns of old drama shows played on low volume. Her eyes were half-watching the contestants trying to find love without trying to rip each other apart. She chuckled bitterly.
"Guess I'm not the only one in need of a drink, ughhhhhhhhhh…"
On the coffee table sat her résumé portfolio, the one she'd almost forgotten on her first run out the door and had to double back for. She gave it a side glance.
She'd been through too many interviews with the same tired ending. "We'll be in touch." Always said with a polite smile and never followed up. The minute she walked out of that high-rise building, she'd prepared herself for that same ending.
Eve leaned her head back, letting out a long sigh. The wine helped, a little. Took the sting out. But deep down, she had truly wished to do good.
Perhaps they didn't like her answers. Or was it her smell?
She continued to ponder, when her phone rang.
She looked over curiously, then blinked, staring at the vibrating screen on the table.
Unknown Number.
She almost didn't answer. Probably another debt collector or the job rejection. But something made her reach for it. Maybe hope. Maybe desperation.
"H… Hello?" Her voice was a little slurred from the wine, but still polite.
"Good evening. Is this Miss Eve Valentine?"
That sobered her right up.
"Yes! Yes, it is," she said, quickly sitting up straighter, clutching the phone like it might disappear if she moved wrong.
"This is Steven from Yummy Inc. I'm calling on behalf of our executive team to inform you that… well, congratulations. You've been selected for the secretary position. Your official onboarding begins next Monday."
Eve froze.
"…I—what?"
"Starting salary is 580,000 Dennies a month. Benefits and bonus structure will be explained during your orientation. An email will be sent shortly confirming everything, but we just wanted to personally extend our welcome."
There was a pause on her end. A stunned, silent pause.
Then: "Thank you," she said softly, voice shaking. "Thank you so much."
"You earned it, Miss Valentine. Welcome to the team." The call ended.
The phone slipped out of her hand and landed on the couch.
And Eve screamed.
"WOOO—!!"
The shout was loud enough to rattle the windows. From the other room, a startled voice shouted, "MOM?!"
Vanessa rushed out in her pajamas, eyes wide with alarm. "What's going on?! Are you okay? If it's a spider, then you're on your own!" Baseball bat at the ready.
Eve didn't answer. She ran to her daughter and hugged her so tightly it nearly lifted her off the floor.
"I got it," she whispered, grinning from ear to ear. "I actually got it, baby. The job. The secretary job. They picked me."
Vanessa's jaw dropped. "You're kidding."
"Nope!" Eve laughed, half-crying, half-dancing. "And that's not even the best part."
She pulled back just enough to look her daughter in the eyes.
"You know that business camp your teacher mentioned? The one we couldn't afford?"
Vanessa blinked, suspicious. "Yeah…? What about it?"
"You're going."
Vanessa immediately shook her head. "Mom—no. That camp costs too much. We need to save. You don't need to spend money on me—"
"It's okay." Eve put a hand on her shoulder. "I'm going to be making more than enough now. Five hundred and eighty thousand a month."
Vanessa's mouth opened… then closed again. "Wait… what?"
"Mhmm."
Two seconds passed.
Then the screaming started again.
They jumped around the room like maniacs, laughing and yelling and spinning in circles. Eve nearly tripped over the coffee table. Vanessa bounced on the couch, hands over her face.
"THIS IS CRAZY!!"
"I KNOW!!"
"YOU'RE RICH NOW!"
"NOT RICH, JUST LESS POOR!"
"OKAY, LET'S NOT GET AHEAD OF OURSELVES!"
"DOES THIS MEAN WE CAN GET A FRIDGE THAT ACTUALLY CLOSES?!"
Their celebration was cut short by a loud bang on the floor from the apartment below.
"KEEP IT DOWN UP THERE!"
"Sorry!" Eve called out between laughs, grabbing a pillow and hugging it tight.
They collapsed on the couch in a heap, breathing heavily. The drama show was still on in the background, but neither of them paid it any mind now.
Eve looked over at her daughter and gave her a tired smile.
"You're gonna be amazing at that camp."
Vanessa grinned. "I'll do my best, Mom. I promise you won't regret it."
They clinked glasses, hers filled with wine, Vanessa's with fruit juice. And for once… everything felt like it was going to be okay.
---
One week later
The same skyscraper loomed overhead, but Eve Valentine wasn't intimidated this time. She wasn't late, sweaty, or gasping for air in borrowed heels.
No, this time, she walked like she belonged there. Back straight, blouse tucked, bag slung neatly over one shoulder.
Funny how life can flip in just seven days.
She took a short detour to the Coff Caffè on the corner. The buttery scent of fresh bread greeted her before the door even swung open. Behind the counter, the Tin Master barista from last week looked up and clapped his hands together.
"Welcome, dear customer! Long time no see. I hope all's been well. How did that interview go?" he asked curiously.
"Thank you for asking—I got the job. You were completely right," Eve grinned, pulling out a few coins. "Strawberry cream croissant and cappuccino to go, please."
He bagged one for her immediately. "You were like a shaking newborn puppy last week. Now look at you. Well, I wish you the best of luck, Miss New Secretary."
"Thank you."
With croissant in hand and caffeine already in her veins, Eve stepped back into the lobby, passed the security desk with a small nod, and pressed the elevator button.
The ride up to the 53rd floor felt different this time around. Less like climbing a mountain, more like arriving at the top of one.
The hallway was just as quiet, the carpet just as beige, the air just as chilly. She stopped in front of the same door as last time, adjusted her bag, then knocked twice.
From inside, a muffled voice called, "You can come in."
Eve checked herself one last time before opening the door to her new life.
---
Eve stepped inside.
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!"
And immediately regretted it.
There was biting. Actual biting.
The same Thiren kid, Kip, was it?—was latched onto the butt cheek of a balding man in a suit who was flailing like a fish out of water, screeching in pitches no adult man should ever be capable of.
A muscle-bound giant with no shirt and a comically tiny apron was tugging at Kip's tail, grunting with the effort.
"LET GO OF THE CFO'S GLUTES, YOU TINY BABA ROGA!"
"I'M TESTING BOUNCE RESISTANCE!" Kip snarled, mouth still full of trousers and dignity.
Not that Kip thought he had any in the first place.
In the far corner, a loudly laughing gyaru with acrylic nails the size of candy canes was filing them mid-phone call.
"And then she said, 'I'm not like the other girls,' and I said, 'Girl, that's 'cause the other girls got taste!'"
Her phone was propped between her shoulder and ear, and her friend cackled so hard she smacked her thigh.
Across from them, a pair of women who looked eerily identical were engaged in a thumb war. No, not engaged. Locked in mortal combat.
Their eyes burned with such intense sibling rivalry, Eve half-expected lightning to crackle.
"Three hours," one twin whispered.
"You'll crack first," hissed the other.
Eve stood frozen at the doorway, mouth slightly agape. Was this a prank show? Was she being punked? But she had already received an advance payment, so was it a prank?
Her spiraling thoughts were sliced clean by a voice she didn't recognize: smooth, young, and oddly calm amidst the madness.
"Sit."
Eve's body obeyed before her brain did. She found herself lowering into the same plastic chair as last week, posture stiff, unsure whether to relax or brace for an incoming pie to the face.
Then the chair behind the desk swiveled.
Her mouth gaped.
Sitting cross-legged with one knee propped up like some war general was a kid. Not a teen. Not a short adult.
A literal kid.
Barely old enough to ride the subway alone, and yet wearing a dark button-up, gaze sharp like a CEO from the dramas she loves watching.
Tata.
He gave her a slow nod, like a mob boss about to make someone an offer they couldn't refuse.
"Last week, you were put through a series of tests," he began, voice direct, not bothering with pleasantries. "Each one designed to measure your ingenuity, professionalism, and adaptability. The other applicants were plants. Actors. Meant to distract you. Test your patience. Question your focus."
"The silly questions? Meant to throw you off. The competition? All part of the plan. You, Eve Evangeline, passed not because you had the perfect answers, but because you were honest, observant, and patient. You didn't give me a fake story. Didn't put on airs. You told me why you were really here."
Behind him, Kip finally detached from the screaming CFO's behind with a loud POP and landed on all fours like a feral goblin. The balding man whimpered and collapsed into a chair, his pride in tatters.
"As you can see," Tata continued, waving vaguely at the mayhem behind him, "this isn't a normal baking company. I don't want normal. I want to be the best. And to get there, I need people who don't crack under this type of chaos."
Eve swallowed. Her hands folded neatly in her lap, but her thoughts were a confetti of mumbled gibberish. She could barely make sense of anything happening right now.
This... this kid was her boss?
"You know those pastries you loved from the Coff Caffè?" Tata asked, leaning forward now, a spark in his eyes. "Those were ours. I was the one who made them. He saw the way your shoulders dropped with the first bite. I saw it too. I was there."
Eve blinked. "Wait, you were there?"
"Corner booth. Hoodie. Reading a manga."
She tried to recall last week. She did remember a quiet kid sipping cocoa and... so that was him.
"I want to give that feeling to everyone," Tata said, passion creeping into his voice now. "That bite of joy. That comfort. You looked like the world was ending, and one pastry brought you back."
He stood up in his chair now, tiny hands on the desk.
"I'm building something that matters to me. And I want you in it. But if you're not ready, I won't force you. You can walk away now."
Silence.
Eve stared at him. At his tiny body. At Kip doing push-ups now while the shirtless man clapped in encouragement.
And then at those eyes. Eyes that didn't belong to a kid.
In his stare, she saw what she only ever saw in men with power—presidents, nobles, titans of industry.
How old was this boy? Seven? Eight? Ten?
She thought of her daughter. Of all the eviction notices she received in the past. Morning alarms and cereal with no milk. She thought of that one bite of pastry. How it made her believe for a second that things might get better.
She looked down at her hands. Then up at Tata.
Then she grinned. Whatever was to come, she was ready.
"You won't regret hiring me."
Tata's face lit up. He hopped down from the chair, walked around the desk, and extended a hand. She took it, giving it a firm shake.
"Well then..." he said, smirking. "I officially welcome you to Yummy—!"
A loud CRUNCH split the air, followed by a wheeze so high-pitched it could crack glass. The balding man doubled over in agony.
"THAT'S not a manly scream!" the shirtless hulk barked, flexing proudly.
"He tried to pat my tail," Kip said smugly, licking his lips. "Now he gets no grandkids."
"And they were roommates," the gyaru shouted into her phone.
"No way," her friend gasped.
The thumb war twins had somehow transitioned into toe wrestling.
Eve's smile twitched.
Tata rubbed the back of his head. "I promise the HR team is... uh, in development."
Eve looked around.
Then back at the kid.
"...Did I make the right decision?"
She wasn't so sure anymore.
-------
A.N
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