Shadows Of Reminance

Chapter 13: Briana

I arrived at the 75th floor, ready to begin another day at Adam Industries. With a box of cakes in hand, I made my way down the corridor towards the President's office. As I approached, I noticed something peculiar – everyone was lined up in a straight row, facing away from me.

"Good morning, everyone!" I greeted cheerfully, holding up the box of cakes. "I brought some treats to start the day off right. Anyone up for some cake?"

Silence greeted me, and I furrowed my brows in confusion.

Are they ignoring me?

"Come on, don't be shy," I chuckled, trying to break the ice.

Finally, they all turned in unison, creating a path in the middle. My eyes widened in surprise as I saw Mr. Adam seated in my chair, his expression unreadable as he regarded me with a raised eyebrow.

"Mr. Adam," I began, my voice faltering slightly. "I... I brought some cakes, if you're interested," I offered tentatively, lifting the box of cakes in my hands.

He glanced up at me, his expression unreadable. "I don't eat sweets," he stated in a bored tone, his attention already drifting elsewhere.

No doubt he's so always in a sour mood.

"Oh," I responded, feeling a bit deflated.
"Um, well, I can go get something salty for you instead?" I suggested, trying to maintain a cheerful demeanour despite the rejection. I flashed my biggest smile, hoping to charm him even just a little.

As Mr. Adam considered my offer, his gaze lingering on me for a moment longer than necessary, the tension between us palpable. Finally, he nodded curtly.

"Fine. But make it quick," he replied, his voice devoid of any warmth.

With a sense of relief, I hurried out of his office, eager to fulfil his request and make amends for my tardiness. I rushed through the bustling streets, my heart raced with the urgency of the task at hand. I dodged pedestrians and weaved through the throngs of people, my focus solely on reaching the bakery as quickly as possible. With each passing second, the weight of Mr. Adam's disapproval bore down on me, urging me to move faster.

Finally, I reached the bakery, breathless and panting and the ache on my foot due to running with heels on. Ignoring the curious glances of the other customers, I quickly ordered a butter croissant, knowing it was the closest thing to a salty treat I could find. As I hurriedly paid for it, my mind raced with thoughts of the consequences of being late.

With the croissant in hand, I dashed back to the office building, my heart pounding in my chest. Bursting through the doors, I made a beeline for the project office, where I knew Mr. Adam would be waiting.

But as I entered the room, my breath caught in my throat. There he was, standing at my desk, his eyes scanning the items laid out before him. Panic surged through me as I realized he was about to open my drawer, where I kept my personal belongings. Without a second thought, I hurried over to him, my hand outstretched with the croissant.
"Here's your salty bakery product, sir," I said, trying to keep my voice steady despite the turmoil churning inside me.

He glanced at me briefly, his expression inscrutable, before his gaze fell on the croissant in my hand. To my dismay, he waved me off dismissively. "Never mind, Miss Rivera," he said, his tone curt and disinterested. "I'm not in the mood for one now."

To say that I was shocked and angry at the same time would be an understatement. "Bu....but u didn't even look what I've bought. And, and you had agreed that you wanted a salty treat."

"Did I miss Rivera?" he mocked, his words dripping with sarcasm. "Well, I don't remember now."

I felt a surge of frustration and indignation rise within me. How could he brush off my effort so callously, without even giving it a chance? I opened my mouth to protest, but he cut me off before I could speak.

"Miss Rivera, you're late. You don't even know the lunch hours' time?" he stated matter-of-factly, the words like a dagger to my pride.

My heart sank as I realized my mistake. "I'm so sorry, Mr. Adam," I apologized, feeling the weight of his disapproval.