The Disruption Begins
She entered her office with her usual grace, stilettos clicking on marble floors, coat barely rustled as she shrugged it off. She moved to her glass-walled office and scanned the outer floor. Neat desks. Quiet screens. Morning routine in motion.
And then—him.
Julian Blackwood.
There he was, standing at the front desk, chatting with the receptionist.
Not asking for directions.
Just… leaning over the counter, animated, expressive, telling what seemed to be a story. The receptionist was laughing—laughing—as if this were a café, not the lobby of one of the top publishing empires in the country.
She pressed the intercom.
Selena hart
“Aya, send Mr. Blackwood to my office as soon as he’s done... socializing.”
Three minutes later, Julian walked in, breezy and unbothered, holding a thermos of coffee.
Selena hart
“You’re early,”
julian
“You too. I guess we’re both overachievers.”
Selena hart
“Did you finish reading the orientation manual?”
julian
“Most of it was common sense.”
Selena hart
“Apparently not.”
Selena hart
“You are not here to build friendships with the front desk. This is a publishing house, not a lounge.”
julian
He smirked. “They’re human, a ‘good morning’ doesn’t kill productivity.”
She didn’t respond. Just dismissed him with a wave of her hand.
By mid-morning, Selena passed through the creative wing on her way to an editorial meeting—and stopped short.
Julian was seated on the edge of a colleague’s desk, an open packet of croissants between them. They were mid-conversation, laughing. Crumbs scattered across the workspace.
Selena hart
“Mr. Blackwood,”
julian
“Hey, want a croissant?”
Her silence was thunderous.
julian
“Didn’t think Verve was the kind of place that punished people for being hungry.”
Selena hart
“It’s the kind of place that values discipline, You’re expected to follow schedule. And maintain workspace cleanliness.”
He sliding off the desk and dusting his hands.
julian
“Guess you’ll hate my desk too.”
julian
“Bit of a chaos artist,” he said, not apologetic. “Mess helps me think.”
Selena hart
“Mess,” she said, voice clipped, “is not welcome in this building.”
She turned and walked away, her hands were clenched.
She sat down in her office, hands folded tightly in her lap.
p.o.v of Selena
I had to fix this
I had to
Selena hart
I have to do something this ripple of disruption Julian brought with him could spread.
Selena did not tolerate waves in her perfectly still waters.
Comments