"On this floor, basic courtesy means working without making a lot of noise," Noira shot back coldly as the private executive elevator doors opened with a soft ding.
As soon as the elevator doors closed, separating them from the downstairs staff's endlessly curious gazes, Noah let out a relieved sigh. He loosened his shirt collar, which felt like it was strangling him.
"Damn. It feels like walking through a lion's den," Noah muttered, leaning his back against the elevator's glass wall. "Besides, Ms. Noira... why did you have to make me your personal secretary? In yesterday's contract, my only job was... well, you know. At the condominium. Not managing a meeting schedule as thick as an encyclopedia."
Noira turned around and looked Noah up and down with a cold, assessing gaze.
"Do you think I'm willing to let you sit around all day while four hundred million rupiah gathers dust in your account?" Noira raised one eyebrow. "My personal secretary position has been vacant since yesterday because I fired the previous one for incompetence. You need an alibi for your changed lifestyle, and I need someone I can keep under watch twenty-four hours a day."
"Keeping watch, or missing me?" Noah teased with a wicked grin, lightly bumping his shoulder against Noira's.
Noira froze. Her eyes narrowed sharply, unleashing her legendary death stare. "Try repeating that one more time, and I'll make sure your salary gets cut by fifty percent this month."
"Mercy, Boss. I was just kidding," Noah chuckled, raising both hands. "But seriously, this tie is way too tight. And why do I have to bring these mini pancake bites into your office?"
"Because you bought them with your coffee change," Noira replied casually as the elevator doors opened on the top floor—the president's floor. "And for the record... never call me 'Noira' or joke about our nights together anywhere in this office. If anyone gets suspicious even once, you understand the consequences, don't you?"
"Understood, Ms. Noira. At the office, I'm your lackey; at the condominium, I'm..." Noah let the sentence trail off, looking at Noira with a suggestive glint in his eyes.
Noira merely rolled her eyes, trying to ignore the strange flutter that had suddenly stirred in her chest. "Go into your office. Your desk is right outside my door."
The first two hours of working as the personal secretary to the CEO of Authum Holdings turned out to be more terrifying than being chased by debt collectors.
Noah sat behind his luxurious mahogany desk, staring at the computer screen displaying hundreds of incoming emails and stock charts that looked to him like overheated worms. As a former café server, his main expertise was telling Arabica from Robusta, not analyzing market expansion into Southeast Asia.
Crash!
The CEO's office door suddenly flew open from the inside. Noira stood in the doorway, her expression darker than usual.
"Noah. Where are the revised acquisition documents for PT Media Karya?"
Noah jumped in surprise and immediately rummaged through the stacks of paper on his desk. "Uh, those... just a second, Ms. Noira! I put them under the red folder earlier... or was it the green one?"
Noira strode closer, exhaling heavily. "Important company documents aren't filed by color, Noah. There's an alphabetical filing system!"
"I know, Ms. Noira! But the red folder is easier to remember because it's the same color as your dress last night—"
"Noah Nabastala!" Noira tapped Noah's desk, making him fall silent automatically. Noira bent down, bringing her face close until only a few centimeters separated them.
The sensations of the previous night suddenly surged between them. The scent of Noira's vanilla-and-black-opium perfume once again intoxicated Noah.
"Don't provoke me during work hours," Noira whispered, her voice fragile yet full of menace. "The board of directors is holding a meeting in fifteen minutes. And if that document isn't on my desk in three minutes..."