The moment Tyler and Joana halted before us, Daryl's voice, sharp as a knife, sliced through the air, "Do you know them?"
Tyler, a smirk playing on his lips, responded, "Of course! I'm her brother. And you are?" My head spun in disbelief. His words, laced with a chilling familiarity, sent a shiver down my spine.
"Don't talk to him like that, Tyler," I hissed, my voice barely a whisper. But my warning was lost on him. He just glared back, his eyes burning with a fire I didn't recognize.
He took a step closer, his shadow looming over me. His lips moved, forming words that were meant for my ears alone. The air grew thick with unspoken menace.
"You just got a divorce, Tyra. And you're already dating?" His words, a low murmur, were laced with a hint of judgement. I rolled my eyes, the gesture more a reflex than a conscious decision.
"WHAT THE—" The rest of my response died in my throat. The sheer audacity of his question, the sheer nerve of him, left me speechless.
The curse died on my tongue, a strangled gasp that turned into a sigh. I met Daryl's gaze, trying to decipher the storm brewing in his eyes. Why was Tyler doing this? Why was he making me feel like I was walking on eggshells?
"I'm not dating him—"
"Then what? Is he courting you?" Tyler's voice, sharp and cutting, sliced through my words. He aimed his remark directly at Daryl, his smug grin a blatant attempt to provoke. I cursed under my breath, a low growl of frustration, and met Daryl's gaze. His expression was unreadable, a mask of stoic indifference that only fueled my rising anger.
"I'm so sorry, sir," I stammered, my voice laced with a mixture of apology and exasperation. "He's still under the influence, that's why he's acting like this." My gaze darted between Tyler and Joana, who was now staring at me with a bewildered expression.
"Sir?" Joana echoed, her voice tinged with confusion.
I nodded, my jaw clenched. "He's my boss," I confirmed, my voice hardening with a hint of resentment. My eyes locked with Tyler's, a silent challenge flashing between us.
Tyler's face, usually so brash and confident, now held a flicker of regret. But the damage was done. I shouldn't have brought Daryl here. The air between us was thick with unspoken tension, a silent accusation hanging in the air.
"We're going to eat now," I announced, my voice clipped and cool. "See you later!" I aimed a pointed look at Tyler, my disappointment a tangible weight in the room. He knew. He knew exactly what he'd done, and the consequences of his actions.
My gaze lingered on Daryl as he turned and strode towards the restaurant, his back stiff and unyielding. I followed, my steps echoing the silent tension that hung between us. We were seated at a table tucked away in a quiet corner, the low hum of conversation a distant backdrop to the storm brewing within me. 
The waiter arrived, placing a menu before each of us, but my mind was far from the culinary delights on offer. My thoughts were consumed by the events that had unfolded, the words that had been spoken, the unspoken feelings that simmered between us.
"Your brother," Daryl began, his voice a low rumble, "he's really protective of you."
My gaze snapped to him, surprised by the observation. "Nah," I scoffed, a touch of defensiveness creeping into my voice. "He's just childish." For a moment, I almost forgot who I was talking to, my boss, the man who held my professional future in his hands.
"Oh, I'm sorry for what happened earlier, sir," I added hastily, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment.
He smirked, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "It's fine," he said, his tone light and dismissive. "I finally met your brother and his girlfriend, just like you said on our first encounter." He raised a hand, signaling the waiter over.
We placed our orders, the air thick with anticipation and the faint aroma of sizzling spices. I absentmindedly scrolled through my phone, the digital world a temporary escape from the swirling emotions within me. Then, I noticed Daryl's hands were empty, his phone nowhere in sight. I tucked my own device back into my bag, my gaze sweeping the restaurant, searching for something, anything, to distract myself from the simmering tension.
"Is this your favorite spot to dine?" Daryl's voice, smooth and low, cut through my thoughts. I blinked, startled by the unexpected question. "Not at all," I replied, my voice a touch too sharp. "It's just... near our house." He was about to ask another question, his curiosity piqued, when our food arrived, a welcome distraction from the unspoken words hanging between us.
The waiter set down our plates, a symphony of colors and aromas. I dug in, the savory flavors a welcome distraction from the simmering tension. Daryl, however, seemed content to savor his meal in silence, his focus solely on the food before him. As we finished, I reached for my wallet, ready to settle the bill. But before I could, Daryl had already handed his credit card to the waiter.
"Sir, you shouldn't—" I began, my voice laced with protest.
"You're just starting your work," he cut me off, his tone firm yet gentle. "Let me pay for now." I nodded, a silent acknowledgement of his generosity.
"Make sure you do the same thing," he added, his eyes meeting mine with an intensity that sent a shiver down my spine.
"Of course, sir!" I replied, my voice a touch breathless. We exited the restaurant, the night air cool against my skin, the weight of his words lingering in the silence between us.
The city buildings blurred into streaks of color as I navigated the familiar streets, heading back to our building. I decided to let Daryl go ahead, a sudden urge to linger a little longer in the cool air. "I'm just going to grab some coffee from the cafe down the street," I told him, my voice casual, though my heart was pounding with a mix of nerves and anticipation.
"I'm not into coffee," Daryl said, his voice a low murmur, "but you can buy me tea." His words hung in the air, a strange request that left me momentarily speechless. Should I buy him tea? Was this some kind of... test?
I stood at the counter, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee swirling around me. The barista called out my order, and I took a deep breath, my mind racing. I placed my order, the warmth of the cup a comforting counterpoint to the turmoil within me. As I stepped onto the elevator, the steaming mug clutched in my hand.
"Hi, sir," I greeted Daryl, my voice a little breathless as I stepped into his office. He looked up, his gaze meeting mine, and I offered him a smile, a flicker of warmth in the cool formality of his space. I placed the steaming mug of tea on his desk, the scent of chamomile a comforting contrast to the crisp air of the office. Then, I turned to leave.
"Thank you," his voice, deep and resonant, reached me as I reached for the door. I paused, a fleeting smile tugging at my lips before I continued on my way. The afternoon hours stretched before me, filled with the familiar rhythm of work. As the clock ticked past five, I rose from my desk, my tasks completed. The familiar pull of duty led me to Daryl's office, a sense of anticipation mingling with the quiet hum of professionalism.
"I've already worked on them, sir," I said, gesturing to the stack of documents on his desk. "You just need to sign them." He nodded, a brief flicker of appreciation in his eyes. He reached for his pen, his signature a decisive flourish across the papers.
"Thank you," I murmured, a sense of accomplishment washing over me. I gathered the signed documents, ready to deliver them to the accounting department. As I stepped onto the elevator, a group of employees crowded in, their voices buzzing with a mix of gossip and chatter. I discreetly turned away, not wanting to intrude on their conversation.
"I heard Sir Daryl already got his new secretary," a woman in her late 30s, with a sharp bob of dark hair, announced to her companion.
"Yeah, I heard she's his age," the other woman replied, a hint of amusement in her voice.
"I already know what will happen next," the woman with short hair said, her eyes suddenly locking with mine. A chill ran down my spine. "Which department are you?" she asked, her tone sharp and inquisitive. I was caught off guard, my heart pounding in my chest.
The elevator doors slid open, revealing the familiar, sterile landscape of the twelfth floor. "I'm his new secretary," I announced, my voice a touch too sharp, a touch too defensive. I stepped out of the elevator, the weight of the words settling heavily on my shoulders. This is why I hate working in the corporate world. The whispers, the assumptions, the constant scrutiny.
I entered the accounting department, the air thick with the scent of paper and the low hum of conversation. Several employees were already packing their belongings, preparing for the end of the workday. My gaze swept the room, landing on a group of women huddled together, their whispers laced with a mixture of curiosity and judgement. I knew exactly what they were talking about.
"Oh, Ms. Sandoval!" Ms. Yves exclaimed, her voice a bright chirp in the otherwise quiet accounting department. I reached her desk, placing the signed documents before her. She glanced up, her eyes widening in recognition. "Great!" she chirped, her smile a flash of approval. I nodded, a sense of relief washing over me. 
"Thank you," I murmured, a polite smile gracing my lips. I turned and left their department, the weight of the paperwork finally lifted.
I returned to my floor, the familiar hum of the office a comforting backdrop to the whirlwind of emotions swirling within me. I began to tidy my desk, the rhythmic clatter of papers a calming counterpoint to the racing thoughts in my head. Then, the intercom crackled to life, Daryl's voice a low rumble in the quiet of the office. 
"Ms. Sandoval," he said, his tone clipped and urgent. I took a deep breath, the knot of apprehension tightening in my stomach. I straightened my blazer, a silent act of composure, and made my way to his office, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air.
"Yes, sir?" I asked, my voice a little shaky as I stepped into his office. He looked up from his computer screen, his gaze piercing.
"Get here early tomorrow," he instructed, his tone clipped and firm. I nodded, my heart pounding in my chest.  
"I will, sir," I replied, trying to sound confident, though my voice trembled slightly. He returned his attention to his computer, the silence in the room heavy and oppressive.  
"I'm leaving now, sir," I added, my voice barely a whisper. I turned towards the door, my steps hesitant, my eyes fixed on the ground.
Relief washed over me as I reached the door, his silence a strange kind of reprieve. I grabbed my bag, my fingers fumbling with the clasps. I stepped into the elevator, the metal walls closing in around me. The familiar journey down to the ground floor felt longer than usual. 
I finally reached my sedan, the cool leather seats a welcome respite. I started the engine, the familiar hum a soothing counterpoint to the turmoil within me. I pulled out of the parking lot, the city lights blurring into a kaleidoscope of colors as I drove back home, the weight of the day's events pressing heavily on my mind.
The exhaustion of the day finally caught up with me as I stepped into the familiar warmth of our house. Joana greeted me with a warm smile, taking my bag from my weary hands.
"He looks like a terrible boss," she commented as I sank onto the couch, my body aching for rest.
"Who? Daryl?" I asked, my voice a tired murmur. Joana nodded, her brow furrowed.
"Nah, not really," I replied, a weak attempt at defending my boss. Just then, Tyler descended the stairs, his eyes meeting mine with a mischievous glint.
I remembered the embarrassing scene he had orchestrated earlier, a wave of heat rising to my cheeks. "Come here, my dear brother," I called out, a playful edge to my voice, though my heart was pounding with a mix of amusement and irritation. He shook his head, a smirk playing on his lips.  
"You're disgracing my reputation with my boss," I chided him, though my words were laced with affection. He sauntered towards me, his grin widening as he approached.
"Come on, I didn't know!" he protested, his voice laced with mock innocence. I couldn't help but smirk at his attempt to deflect responsibility.  
"Do better next time," I warned him, a playful edge to my voice. I grabbed my bag, the weight of the day finally lifting as I headed upstairs.  
I retreated to my room, the sanctuary of my own space, a welcome escape. A warm shower melted away the tension of the day, the steam rising around me like a comforting embrace. I dried my hair, the whirring of the hairdryer a soothing counterpoint to the quiet of the room.
I was about to collapse onto my bed, my body aching for rest, when Joana's voice called out from downstairs.  
"Dinner's ready!" she announced, her tone cheerful. I realized, with a jolt, that I hadn't eaten yet. The aroma of Joana's cooking wafted up the stairs, a tempting invitation. I descended the stairs, my stomach rumbling with anticipation, and joined them for dinner.
"Just rest, Tyra! I'll do the dishes," Tyler offered, his voice filled with genuine concern. I nodded, my eyelids heavy with exhaustion. I retreated to my room, the familiar comfort of my bed a welcome haven. 
After a quick brush of my teeth, I slipped beneath the covers, the warmth of the sheets enveloping me like a comforting embrace. Sleep claimed me quickly, the day's anxieties fading into the background.
I awoke at five in the morning, the first rays of dawn filtering through the blinds. The familiar routine of getting ready for work began, a comforting rhythm in the quiet of the early morning. I decided against using the sedan, knowing Tyler needed it for his job search. Instead, I hailed a cab, the city already bustling with the early morning rush. By the time I reached my office, the clock had ticked past seven, the familiar weight of responsibility settling upon me.
Daryl's office was empty, the usual hum of activity replaced by a quiet stillness. I set to work, straightening papers, wiping down surfaces, and restoring order to the space. As I finished, the door swung open, and Daryl stepped inside, his gaze sweeping across the room. He placed his briefcase on his desk, his eyes meeting mine.  
"Let's go," he said, his voice a low rumble. I followed him out of the office, my heart pounding with a mix of anticipation and confusion.
We reached the parking lot, but instead of handing me his car keys, he simply gestured towards his car. 
"Let me drive, sir," I offered, my voice a touch too eager. He shook his head, his expression unreadable.  
"You don't know where we're going," he replied, his tone firm. I shrugged, accepting his decision, and settled into the passenger seat.
Daryl started the engine, the car purring to life. We drove in silence.  
Finally, we pulled into the parking lot of a car dealership, the gleaming rows of vehicles a dazzling display. Daryl stepped out of the car, and I followed, my curiosity piqued.  
"Are you going to buy a new car?" I asked, my voice laced with surprise. He turned to me, his eyes gleaming with a mischievous glint.  
"It's your car," he said, his words a bombshell that left me speechless.