The clock on the wall felt like it was mocking me. 5:45 PM. 5:50 PM. 5:55 PM.
I had spent the last few hours in a feverish blur of activity. My fingers flew across the keyboard, cross-referencing files and organizing the data just as he had asked. Every time I felt my energy dip from my early morning BBA lectures, I took a sip of water and pushed harder. I wouldn't let him see me fail.
Finally, the stack of folders was complete. I stood up, smoothed my hair, and walked toward his private office.
I knocked softly. "Sir?"
He looked up from his monitor, his glasses perched on the bridge of his nose—a look that made him seem slightly more human, yet somehow more handsome. "Yes?"
"I've completed all the tasks you assigned," I said, placing the finished reports on his desk. I took a deep breath, checking my watch. It was exactly 6:00 PM. "Since it's six o'clock and the office day is ending, I wanted to ask... may I leave for the day?"
The silence in the room stretched for a moment. Most employees in this office were still glued to their screens, trying to look busy to impress him. But I was an 18-year-old with a life to manage, a bus to catch, and books to study.
He looked at the reports, then back at me. His gaze was unreadable.
"You finished everything already?" he asked, his voice low. He flipped through the top folder, checking my work for mistakes.
I held my breath. If I had made a mistake, I knew he wouldn't let me leave. But if I was right...
He closed the folder with a sharp thud that echoed in the quiet office. He looked at the clock, then back at me, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that made my heart skip.
"Okay," he said slowly. "You can go. You did what was asked, and I value punctuality."
I felt a wave of relief wash over me. I started to turn away, already thinking about the bus ride home and the textbooks waiting for me.
"But," he added, his voice dropping a registers.
I froze and looked back. He had stood up, leaning his hands on the mahogany desk, looking every bit the powerful manager I was both afraid of and drawn to.
"Don't think that every day will be this easy," he warned. "Today was a test of your speed. Tomorrow will be a test of your endurance. If you want to keep leaving at six while being a student, your work must remain flawless. One mistake, and the clock won't matter anymore. Do you understand?"
I nodded, my throat feeling a bit dry. "I understand, sir."
"Good," he said, his gaze lingering on me a second longer than necessary. "Go home. Get some rest. You'll need it for tomorrow."
As I walked out of his office, my legs felt a little like jelly. I passed the Advisor's desk on my way out. He was still there, and he gave me a playful wink as I walked by, clearly impressed that I was leaving on time on my very first day.