"It's just a takeout order. She ate it, so what? Stacy didn't do it on purpose. Why do you have to be so aggressive about it?"
"How much was it? I'll just transfer you the money!"
I almost laughed from sheer disbelief.
"When was I being aggressive? She ate my food. I asked her to order me a replacement. Is that unreasonable?"
"I've been working all day without a single bite to eat!"
Stacy immediately rummaged through her drawer and pulled out some off-brand snack cake that looked like it had been sitting there since the Stone Age. She shoved it into my hands, her voice dripping with saccharine sweetness:
"Stacy ate sissy's lunch, so here—take Stacy's little cakey as a trade..."
She wanted to swap a dollar-store reject for my high-end sushi?
I tossed the cake right back at her.
Stacy's face crumpled into wounded innocence:
"Sissy won't even take my little cakey... Does sissy hate Stacy...?"
I opened my mouth to fire back, but Arnold didn't even glance my way. Instead, he handed Stacy a tissue and cooed at her:
"Don't cry. I'll buy you some boba."
Stacy's tears vanished instantly. She latched onto his arm, all smiles:
"Arnold is the best~ Not like some people, always so mean. No wonder she doesn't have a boyfriend."
My nails dug into my palms.
Arnold James. My secret boyfriend of two years.
He just let her cling to him. Didn't pull away.
From that day on, Stacy's "accidents" multiplied.
She accidentally put wasabi in my coffee. Accidentally lost my delivery package.
And then she accidentally posted a photo of me working late to the department group chat, with the caption:
"Anita is soooo hardworking~ Still at the office this late... Could she be waiting for a certain executive? "
The angle was deliberate—it caught me adjusting my collar, making it look like I was... putting myself together after something.
The group chat exploded.
"Acts all high and mighty, but turns out she plays THAT game?"
"I heard she's always going up to the executive floor. You don't think..."
"Tsk tsk. So THAT'S how she became team lead. And here I thought it was merit~"
I tried to explain, but Stacy had already deleted the message. She followed up with a crying emoji:
"Sorry sorry, Stacy sent that by mistake~ Don't jump to conclusions, everyone! Although... Stacy doesn't really know why Anita is always going to the CEO's floor either..."
The more she "clarified," the worse it looked.
But what truly chilled me was Arnold.
He dragged me into the stairwell without bothering to hear my side:
"Anita, are those rumors true? You have been going to the executive floor a lot lately. And your bags, your clothes—they don't look like things a regular employee could afford!"
I stared at him, feeling like I was looking at a stranger.
"Arnold, we've been together for two years. You don't know what kind of person I am?"
He looked away, guilt flickering across his face:
"I thought I did. But people change. Stacy's right—you're too secretive. You never tell me anything. If you're really innocent, why won't you just explain?"
I laughed. My eyes stung.
Three months ago, my father—the chairman of Fox Group—had sent us both to a subsidiary to test Arnold.
"Sweetheart, you're not just looking for a husband. You're looking for someone who can protect Fox Group. If he can't survive at the ground level, or if he can't stay loyal to you, then he doesn't deserve you."
At the time, I thought my father was being paranoid.
When Arnold was pursuing me, he'd waited three hours in a downpour just to bring me an umbrella.
In two years together, he'd remembered every anniversary. Even tracked my cycle.
How could he possibly have wandering eyes?
But now, I wasn't so sure.
I wanted to give Arnold a chance to prove himself.
Instead, he started having meals with Stacy. Walking her home.
