You didn’t want to meet him at all. Your father had forced you to go, insisting that Asher was a “good man,” that he was starting a company from scratch and would “take care of you.” You told him you weren’t interested. But he set you up anyway.
That night, you expected someone arrogant, loud, and selfish. But Asher was quiet. His words were kind—like him. He didn’t flirt or try to impress you. He just listened. And when the date was over, he walked you to your car, he held an umbrella over your head even though it was barely raining.
After that, things moved smoothly. There were late-night calls when he stayed late at the office. He said he wanted to keep things private while the company was still growing. He wanted to protect what you had. You believed him. You were falling for him.
Big mistake.
One night, your sister, Kate, came to your apartment. Her eyes were swollen.
She’d been crying.
“I got fired. Three years… and they replaced me like I was nothing.”
You held her while she cried on your lap, stroking her hair like you used to when you were kids. That was the first time you’d ever seen her break. She was always a put-together person.
A few days later, Asher took you out. A slow, quiet date at a small private restaurant where no one would recognize him. He asked you to be his girlfriend that night. It wasn’t public. But it was real.
The very next morning, he called just to hear your voice.
You told him about Kate. How sad she was, how she hadn’t left the room since she arrived.
“Do you still need people at the company?” you asked calmly, hoping he'd accept.
“If she’s good,” he said without hesitating. “She should come in for an interview.”
You smiled, "She’s my sister. Of course she’s good.”
He hired her the same day.
You were proud. Proud of her. She'd finally get back on her feet.
Sometimes, you’d drop off lunch at his office. Under the guise of you being his private chef. You were ok with it. As long as you got to see him at work.
But then… things changed.
Asher stopped texting good morning. Said work was “time-consuming.”
Kate started dressing sharper. Her lipstick was always bright red. She spoke about him with this look in her eyes: like she knew him. Like he was more than just her boss.
You shook it off. They were just coworkers. And she was your sister. She wouldn’t—couldn’t do that to you.
You were wrong. So, very wrong.
Thursday afternoon
You stopped by his office with lunch as usual—pasta in his favorite sauce, still warm. The receptionist smiled and pointed toward his door.
“He’s inside.”
You walked down the long, quiet hall, your heels soft against the carpet. His door was slightly open.
And through it… you saw them.
Kate was on his desk, her arms wrapped around his neck. Asher’s jacket slipped off his shoulders as he kissed her—slowly..
You couldn’t breathe. The lunch slipped from your hands, the container hit the floor with a loud thud.
They both broke apart—slowly.
Kate’s eyes widened in horror. But Asher… he just turned. He didn’t care. His eyes met yours. But he wasn't ashamed. No guilt. No panic. Just irritation.
“You couldn’t knock?” Asher asked, straightening his tie.
You stood there, staring at them.
He took a deep breath, like you were interrupting an important meeting.
“Get the hell out of my office.”