DING-DONG.
That was the sound of my doorbell, sharp and sudden like a needle in silence. My heart jumped a little.
I checked my reflection one last time—sniffed the collar of my shirt. Just right. Fresh, crisp, clean. My place looked sharp, every corner arranged to perfection, like my life now... or at least the version of it I let people see.
I took a deep breath, swallowed down the nerves, and opened the door.
There she was.
Kimberly.
In the dim porch light, she looked like trouble wrapped in elegance. Gloss still shining on those lips like she applied it just for me.
"Good evening, ma. Here is the file you asked for—"
She blinked, looked confused for a second. "Do I look like a lady today?" she added, half-joking, half-curious.
That hit deep. I didn't answer. Just took the file, but her eyes... her eyes were already exploring the inside of my home.
"You can come in, if you want to look around," I offered, almost too fast.
She hesitated. That little flicker in her brow. "No sir, that would not be necessary."
"Relax, Kimberly. You can come in. I don't bite." My voice dropped just a little.
She walked in, slowly, like it was something she didn't want to want. But I saw the way her eyes lit up. She wanted this. Maybe not me—yet—but this moment.
She paused at a painting on the wall.
"This is… inspiring."
I looked at it and shrugged. "Is it? Didn't mean much when I bought it."
"I love drawings. Always have."
There it was—something real. A crack in her armor.
I stepped closer, slow, deliberate. My pulse was racing. She was too close and too dangerous, but I didn't want her to leave. Not yet.
I stopped just behind her. One more step and I'd do something I'd regret.
Shit.
She turned around. Our eyes met. The tension hit like lightning. It wasn't just attraction—it was chaos. Her green eyes were daring me. My body was betraying me, shaking, hot, ready.
She held out the file again.
"Your file, sir."
That word. "Sir." It sounded sweet coming from her lips, and yet—
"Oh. Right." I reached for it, but our hands touched.
She pulled hers back like she'd touched fire.
And maybe she had.
She stepped back quickly. "Thank you for the opportunity, sir. I should get going."
I didn't want her to leave. But I had no words that didn't sound desperate.
"Be at work by 8AM. I have tasks for you," I said coldly, just to keep her longer in my orbit.
She nodded and walked out.
The second that door shut, I threw the file on the couch and muttered—
"F*ck me... what was I thinking?"
I ran upstairs, heart pounding, face flushed. Embarrassed? Angry? Both. Mostly confused.
---
NEXT MORNING – 7:45AM
Kimberly walked into the office with heavy steps, shoulders tense, eyes tired.
"Good morning," she said quietly to the cleaner.
She slumped at her desk. Her voice was low, almost a whisper. "Why me? Why is Andy always sending me around like I'm his errand girl?"
She massaged her temples. "I didn't sign up for this."
Michael dropped his bag and grinned, clearly amused. "The boss stressing you again?"
Kimberly shot him a sharp look. "Seriously, I'm losing it."
"But you're getting paid fat. You know that, right?"
"She. Andy's a she," Kimberly corrected quickly, but it didn't even sound convincing.
Michael laughed. "That's a rich-ass man, Kim. Come on. You buying that whole 'lady' act?"
Kimberly didn't answer.
Instead, she said softly, "I need a break. A long one. My head's a mess."
"You wanna spend Christmas with me then?" Michael grinned. "We'll drink cheap wine and curse our jobs."
Kimberly chuckled tiredly. "Maybe I will. I need to forget."
Michael studied her. "You're stronger than you think, Kim."
"Aww. Don't make me cry now," she smiled, a little blush peeking through.
Just then the secretary walked past. "Morning, all," she greeted and disappeared.
Kimberly's eyes narrowed. "And she's the damn secretary. Andy should be bothering her, not me!"
She slammed her phone on the table.
"Whoa, calm down, boss babe," Michael teased.
---
11AM
The roar of an exotic engine broke the flow of the office. Heads turned.
Andy had arrived.
Wearing a perfectly cut suit, dark shades, and confidence sharper than a knife, I walked through the company like I owned the sky. Because I did.
But my body felt different lately—less sharp, less masculine. I'd stopped taking the hormones my mother had forced on me years ago. The softness returned. But I'd learned to mask it with power, presence, and ruthlessness.
I stepped in—and there she was.
Kimberly.
Sleeping. While on duty.
Her head jerked up when she heard me.
"Kimberly."
She stood immediately. "I'm sorry, sir—"
"Sleeping on duty?" My voice was low, cold. "Does your salary not count?"
"It doesn't, ma—I mean… sir. I'm sorry."
I stopped. My jaw tightened.
"This is the last time anyone in this building calls me ma'am. You see a woman here?" I raised my voice just enough to silence the room. "Do I look like one to you?"
"No, sir. I'm sorry," she said again, trembling.
The room held its breath.
"Meet me in my office. 1PM."
And I walked away—each step heavier than the last.
Not just because I was angry.
But because I was feeling something I shouldn't.
And it was getting harder to bury it
-
Kimberly's POV
I stood outside his office door, frozen. I'd been standing here for over five minutes, unable to bring myself to knock. My palms were sweaty, and my legs felt like they didn't belong to me. Just then, Mrs. Jane walked past.
"Let me guess," she said, raising an eyebrow. "You're having a hard time with Mr. Andy."
I nodded. I couldn't even open my mouth — fear had sealed it shut.
"I'll let you in," she said, giving me a look like she could see straight through me. Then she walked to the door and knocked three sharp times.
"Thank me later," she whispered before walking away, leaving me ten times more anxious.
The door creaked as I opened it and stepped inside.
He was there — sitting like a storm behind his desk, eyes locked on me.
"Why are you late?"