The young woman took a deep breath and looked around to see if there was anything she forgot to do in the early hours of the morning. The books were neatly placed on the shelf. The files she needed first thing in the morning were neatly placed on the desk. Everything was symmetrically arranged on the desk, and she held her filter coffee. Yesterday evening, after leaving work, she had called Ahzal's tailor and discussed spare clothes. She had gotten the coffee from the café, disregarding Demre's sleepy grumbling, and had come to the company. The room was just as she wanted it to be, but she stood in the middle of the room, not knowing how to wait for the man.
Just as she thought she should go out and wait for the man, the door opened, and the large man, with a small earpiece in his ear, was speaking in English on the phone with someone on the other end as he walked in. Not knowing what to do, Hamra stood there, extending the coffee towards the man as she took her bag and gave him the coffee with her now free hand. The young man continued to reply to his friend on the phone while he walked to his desk and settled into his chair to take a sip of coffee. Hamra waited for a sign of appreciation from her boss who seemed not to care about her presence, continuing his conversation. Sure, his mind might have been elsewhere, but couldn't he have at least smiled politely when accepting the coffee? Or looked around? Couldn't he see that everything was obviously not as he left it the day before?
While the young girl was lost in her thoughts, the young man hung up the phone and looked at the woman standing before him. Today, she was wearing a black dress. It ended just below her knees and with the stilettos underneath, she looked like a true professional, but even this was enough to upset the young man. The body-hugging dress, though ending below the knee caps, was still quite eye-catching. She had tied a beautiful scarf around her neck with red, green, and white, and her chest was modestly covered, but still, it didn't escape the man's notice. After what he had seen at lunch yesterday, warming up to this woman had become an impossibility. He had even tossed and turned in bed, angry for leaving his sister with this man-crazy woman.
"Good morning, Mr. Ahzal. Would you like me to give you the morning plan now or..." she was interrupted mid-sentence by the man looking at her with furrowed brows. "You must like these kinds of dresses," the young man said, causing Hamra to look at him bewilderedly. "I don't understand, is there a problem?" she inquired while inspecting her dress for any stains, but the dress was black, and no stains were visible. When she looked up at the man again, she saw he was still frowning at her. My God, had he woken up on the wrong side of the bed this morning, or was this really how the man started his day, she couldn't figure out. "Neslihan must not have mentioned my dress code requirements," he stated, and Hamra looked at him curiously. "No, we didn't discuss such a topic," she replied, and the young man nodded. "As my assistant, you will be with me in front of business people, and as you might have heard, such men have certain attitudes towards assistants. I'm saying this not because I want it, but for your comfort. You might be more comfortable wearing pantsuits," he suggested, and Hamra stood in shock. Was she hearing him right? "What do you mean, I can't wear what I choose because men might harass me?" she asked, and the young man realized the
absurdity of his statement, took a deep breath, and conceded to the protesting woman. "You're right. As I said, I'm suggesting this so you won't be bothered by their stares. You might be uncomfortable and..." he was cut off as he dug himself deeper, prompting Hamra to speak up. "I can make those men uncomfortable for looking, Mr. Ahzal. Thank you for your concern, but I did not expect such a sexist approach from you," Hamra retorted, now frowning back at him as Ahzal was left staring at her, wide-eyed and taken aback. She was right, of course. Her confident and firm stance in defending her view had impressed him, but still, this red-haired woman was practically leading his sister astray. "My intention was not to be sexist. You are my sister's closest friend. I'm saying this for your comfort," he explained. "Your concern for my comfort is very gratifying, thank you, but as I said, I've managed on my own until now. I can continue to do so," she asserted, and the man watched the defiant woman in astonishment. She was stubborn indeed. He didn't agree with the point she defended, but his aim was just to restrict this woman somehow. Even if it meant resorting to an ugly tactic, he had to rein in this woman who had been waiting at home in garters for a man. Demre was only twenty-one, and the decisions she made at this age would shape her future. It didn't seem likely he could remove this woman from her life, but he believed he could change her. "Alright, you know best. Come to my office in five minutes to give me the daily schedule. Also, tell Neslihan to give you a company card. You can use it to get what you need," he said, and Hamra nodded, heading back to her office. What a strange man. Did he not hear what came out of his mouth, or was he really that reserved? She had always hated people who meddled in her clothing choices. She sat down to calm down, glanced around for a while, and as she caught sight of the pending work, she somewhat gathered her thoughts.
The early hours of the day seemed almost wasted. Now, having calmed down, the woman was occupied with transferring some files to the computer. She had seen some unpublished exposés of a few celebrities and sent them to Demre for a laugh before their lunch break arrived. When Hamra packed up her belongings and knocked on her boss's door, the young man had made her wait a bit before telling her to come in. Ahzal was sitting where she left him, glancing at the small screen of his computer before looking up at her under his furrowed brows and returning to his work. "Mr. Ahzal, may I go out for lunch?" she asked politely, and for a moment, his attention was diverted, though he didn't show it outwardly. His eyes were still scanning the screen, but now he wasn't even processing what he was reading. "We have quite a lot of work, Hamra. You can have your lunch in the office," he replied, leaving Hamra frozen in place with astonishment. What, was she supposed to stay seated at her desk all day just because he had work to do? Was this man joking? "Alright, Mr. Ahzal. What would you like to eat?" "Order the same thing you're having," he said, turning back to his computer to focus on his work. Frustrated, the young woman returned to her office and sent Demre a message that she couldn't make it, then ordered another Caesar Salad. She seriously doubted that meal would be enough for the big man, but she didn't dwell on it. After all, that annoying man had just imprisoned her in the office because he wanted to. "Let him starve and see how he likes it," she thought to herself.
***
She went to her office to angrily finish her remaining work, while also trying to rein in Demre, who was planning to come to the office and put pressure on her brother. The girl was crazy.
Sender: Demre – Göktuğ just came by. He was asking about you.
Hamra raised an eyebrow at the message and curiously twirled her fingers on the keyboard.
Sender: Hamra – What did you tell him?
Sender: Demre – Of course, I told him my brother wouldn't let you go. He seemed upset. Poor thing, he brought his food to the table. He hasn't forgotten you, I'm telling you.
Sender: Hamra – Don't exaggerate, Demre. He's the one who broke up with me, remember.
Sender: Demre – You broke up because of a misunderstanding because of me...
Ignoring her best friend's messages, the young woman looked up when she heard a knock on her door. Security was standing there with a bag in hand.
"Miss Hamra, you ordered this. They said you were working, so I brought it up," the young man said. Hamra raised her eyebrows in surprise and then smiled sweetly at the man.
"Oh, thank you. Can you put it on the table, please?" she asked, and the man returned her smile genuinely. He usually wouldn't make such a gesture, but it was an excuse to see the woman. After all, since her arrival, she had instantly captured the attention of the entire company, and he had switched shifts with a friend to see her during lunchtime, but his plans were ruined when his colleague at the door said that Hamra's lunch would be taken up to the office. He knew the bosses were strict, but the sparkle in the frail woman's eyes seemed to say she could handle it. After placing the lunch bag on the table, Security was thanked by Hamra and watched her as he left. Then she went to look at the salad boxes. There was no way that big man would be satisfied with this food, but what did she care? It wasn't her throat to worry about, was it? She could now be downstairs having a nice gossip with Demre, easily escaping the grim presence of that man.
She took her salad and placed it on her desk and took the other salad box to knock tensely on her boss's door. Ahzal, hearing the knock from the door leading directly to his office, looked up curiously. He had completely forgotten she was there in such a short time.
"Come in!" he called, and when the young woman entered, she saw him with a straight face holding a box that she didn't understand. In her other hand was a plastic fork. As Hamra placed the box on the table, she spoke.
"You said to order what I was having. Is there anything else you need from me?" she asked, and Ahzal furrowed his brows and glanced inside the box placed in front of him. At that moment, the sight of the salad struck him, and he couldn't help but look at the woman standing upright with surprise. Had this woman really brought him a salad for lunch?
"Do you really get full on this for lunch?" he asked, and Hamra, realizing she had successfully irritated the man, relaxed involuntarily. His stern manners didn't matter right now because the man had refused to let her go to lunch out of sheer petulance.
"Yes, if there's a problem, I can order something else," Hamra challenged, locking eyes with him. Ahzal, faced with her defiance, couldn't help but frown involuntarily. What was this woman trying to do? Was this a petty revenge for not letting her go downstairs? If the way those blue eyes were glaring at him was any indication, it probably was.
"Do I look like a man who could be satisfied with something this small?" he asked, and the young woman shrugged, pretending not to notice the implication.
"If you prefer, I can order something else," she offered.
Ahzal took a deep breath, his irritation rising at her nonchalant attitude. Pushing his chair back, he stood up.
"Get ready. We're going out to eat," he declared, grabbing his coat from the rack and slipping it on. Hamra looked at him in surprise, her mind scrambling. Where had this sudden lunch outing come from?
"But I have my lunch..." she began, but he cut her off with a raised eyebrow.
"Hamra, I don't like to wait. If that's how you're going to be, then never mind," he indicated, pointing toward her. Annoyed, Hamra frowned. Part of her wanted to rebel and say she would indeed come as she was, but then Demre might worry if she heard nothing from her, and besides, she was already angry with the man.
"Whatever you say, Mr. Ahzal," she replied, turning to head back to her office to prepare. Counting to ten internally, she struggled to comprehend the strange man she was dealing with. Wasn't she allowed to enjoy her lunch break as she pleased? And now she had to do whatever he wanted? She grabbed her jacket and bag, glanced at her phone and saw no new notifications from Demre. With a sad look at her uneaten salad, she left her office and entered Ahzal's. He was busy with his phone but looked up when he realized she was there.
"Are you ready?" he asked.
"Yes."
"Good. Let's go," he said, heading for the door. When he didn't hold the door open for her, Hamra felt a flash of irritation. It wasn't that he had to, but it was a matter of chivalry, a gesture of consideration. It would have been a show of thoughtfulness, but such courtesy was apparently beyond this large, grumpy, unreasonable man.
"Neslihan," he called out as they passed the secretary's desk, "we're going out for lunch. Move all my afternoon appointments to Thursday. Tomorrow, Hamra will also come with me to Antalya. Make the necessary arrangements." Both women exchanged surprised glances at the news. Hamra felt a moment of relief at not having to see her boss's face the next day, only to realize she'd have to leave town with him. Her nerves frayed at the thought. Of course, traveling for work was part of the job description, but she hadn't expected it to happen so quickly. And to Antalya, of all places? Demre would kill her when she found out. If her brother hadn't tied her down with work this summer, she would have gone to Antalya for a vacation with her friends, then hop from bay to bay on a yacht. Now, while Demre couldn't go, she had to travel there for a day for work, which would surely infuriate her friend.
As they made their way to the elevator, Hamra couldn't help but ask, "Mr. Ahzal, I wasn't aware that I would be attending tomorrow's meeting?"
"Now you know," he replied, hands in his pockets as he waited for the elevator doors to open. Hamra bit back the sharp retort that rose to her lips.
What are you doing, girl? He's your boss, and if you have to go out of town with him, you go. What were you expecting? That he would act according to your wishes?
When the elevator arrived, they both entered the empty car. Since they were on the top floor, no one else joined them initially. The young woman tried to stand as far away from the man as possible, but the elevator stopped on a lower floor and two people got on. Several more stops and the elevator began to fill with people heading to the cafeteria for lunch. Hamra was cornered behind a large man, feeling the pressure of the crowd. She turned her head and took a deep breath to relax when she caught her boss looking at her. His brows were furrowed, and he seemed to be alternating his gaze between her and the man in front. Not enjoying his scrutiny, she faced forward and waited.