The Grant Tower buzzed with gossip that day. Beyond the endless spreadsheets and reports, the biggest news was the morning’s elevator incident: Alexander Grant (Alex), the rarely seen CEO, and Charlotte Hayes (Lottie), the new Executive Assistant, had been spotted together in his private elevator. Like a bomb detonating, whispers exploded across every floor. Male colleagues feigned indifference while secretly judging, and female colleagues alternated between envy and disdain.
Behind the soundproof glass of her office, Lottie remained oblivious, diligently sorting through files and answering calls for Ethan Grant. By mid-morning, however, she couldn’t ignore her growing need for a bathroom break.
As she hurried down the hallway, she noticed sidelong glances but brushed them off. Inside the restroom stall, she froze when she heard sharp heels click in, followed by a voice dripping with sarcasm:
“Some people are just shameless. Acting all innocent while clawing their way up with cheap tricks.”
Another voice chimed in from the next stall: “You know what they say—no shame, no gain.”
Lottie held her breath, curiosity piqued.
At the sinks, the first woman snorted. “I don’t get it. How did she catch Ethan’s eye? Did he suddenly decide to downgrade?”
The second woman laughed. “Men can’t resist a pretty face throwing itself at them. Isn’t your husband proof of that?”
“Ugh, don’t bring him into this!”
As makeup compacts snapped open, the conversation turned vicious.
“Did you hear? She stayed late with Ethan last night. Probably followed him home.”
“No wonder she was cozying up to Alex this morning. First Ethan, now the CEO? What a gold-digger.”
“Meanwhile, Ethan’s in New York celebrating his model girlfriend’s award. That Anne girl—you’ve seen her, right? Legs for days. That’s his type. Not some office mouse.”
“The old assistant was at least competent. This one? She’s just a stepping stone.”
“Shh! You know Alex hates gossip…”
The voices faded as the women left. Lottie stepped out of her stall, face pale. The words hit like ice water. They were talking about her.
Staring at her reflection, she splashed cold water on her face. She’d waited for Ethan out of naivety, taken the private elevator out of desperation—and now she was branded a schemer. Rumors twisted her innocence into something ugly.
Back in the hallway, she avoided eye contact, fleeing to her office. The weight of judgment crushed her. She’d worked hard for this job, but her reputation was already ashes. If staying meant dragging Ethan’s name through the mud too, she had to leave.
Frantically, she packed her desk. But as she reached for the door, the phone rang.
“Prepare the Zenith report and bring it to the boardroom. Now.” Alex’s voice was cold, leaving no room for refusal.