Isa laughed at what Ryan said as they walked out of the painting company. A brown box was pressed to her chest.
"Thanks for your help again, Ryan. I couldn't have figured out what painting materials to choose without you."
Ryan grinned and turned to her. "It's my pleasure, Isabella." He shoved his hands into his pockets and glanced around, watching the cars zip by and hearing the honks mix with the chatter and laughter of pedestrians.
It was twilight—the sun slowly sinking behind the horizon. The air was cool, yet bustling with life.
"Let me get you a cab," Ryan said, pulling his hand out of his pocket to hail one.
When the cab stopped in front of them, Ryan patted Isa's shoulder. "You've worked enough today. Go get some rest," he smiled and waved. "I'll take off now."
Isa nodded and bowed slightly, watching as Ryan turned and melted into the crowd, his hands tucked into his pockets.
As Isa pushed the heavy box into the backseat, her unzipped handbag shifted. The black sketchbook slipped out and tumbled to the pavement as she climbed into the car. With a deep, exhausted sigh, Isa settled into the seat, resting her head on the headrest.
"Set," the driver muttered, and Isa nodded as he pulled away. The tires screeched over the sketchbook, ripping it open, and a few loose papers flew into the air like scraps of a forgotten dream.
Across the street, partially hidden in the crowd, Ryan watched like a hawk. His eyes tracked the car, then shifted to the scattered pages on the pavement, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face.
Isa kicked off her heels as she entered her room, dropping the big box onto the bed. She sighed, placing her hands on her hips, and twisted her neck to ease the tension in her muscles.
"God…" she muttered, tossing her handbag on top of the box. "What a long day." Her voice trailed off, muffled by the realization that her handbag had unzipped. Her brows furrowed as her mind quickly shifted to the black folder.
The black folder!
Isa grabbed her handbag and dug through it in a frantic rush. She froze for a moment, her heart racing as she tried to recall everything about the folder. She remembered putting it in her bag, but hadn't taken it out since leaving the office. She tried to remember if she'd pulled it out in the shop while she and Ryan roamed the aisles, but she shook her head, checked again, as though the folder might materialize.
"I put it here!" Isa fumbled with the bag. "Right here!" Her chest rose and fell with quick, shallow breaths. "Where—where...?" She tossed the handbag onto the bed and yanked the box open.
She started with the materials, but her impatience grew, gnawing at her. She flipped through the items, pouring everything out of the box in a rush.
Not here!
A chill crept up her spine, her stomach flipping. She bent down to look under the desk.
"What are you doing, Isa?" She unbuttoned the first few buttons of her shirt and fanned herself with her palms, trying to calm the mounting panic.
"A wrong hand, a wrong link, and the world sees what isn't ready. Understand?"
Isa exhaled shakily, remembering her boss's warning.
"I have to go back… to the shop… to the office."
With trembling hands, Isa grabbed her handbag, fumbling through it until she found her office key, then sprinted out the door.
When Isa arrived at the front of Nova Painting Company, it was dark, and the place had already closed. The quiet of the evening pressed against her, the chill in the air biting at her skin. The street lights and the illuminated company sign were the only things breaking the dark stillness.
Isa groaned loudly and leaned her back against the glass door, panting. Slowly, she slid down to sit on the cold floor, knees bent, burying her hands in her lap. Her face was flushed pink from the cold, but she hardly felt it. Her stomach churned, and her heart seemed to sink into the pit of her chest, as if the coldness was seeping right through it.
She had returned to the shop, asking the salesman if he had found a black folder, but he shook his head blankly. Isa had searched the area herself but found nothing.
This place—the company—was her only hope, but it had already locked up for the night.
She stood slowly and looked up at the building, the wind picking up and sending a strand of hair dancing across her forehead.
"This is my only hope," she muttered.
She'd have to come back early tomorrow to check her desk, but the possibility of not finding it there sent a shiver down her spine.
Isa wrapped her arms around herself as she replayed putting the folder into her bag. Maybe she had imagined it. She must have left it on her desk.
I... I can't be this careless.
She swallowed hard, blinking back the tears threatening to spill.
The thought of losing her job made her heart race with fear. She couldn't face her mother's disappointed stare again. Another round of criticism from her mother and the neighbours would shatter her. She had promised herself she would make her mother proud, but losing her job would prove to everyone that she wasn't good enough.
She'd convinced herself the CEO's previous personal assistant had been the real issue. They must have failed to meet the CEO's standards. But the idea of failing worse than them made her stomach lurch. Isa winced, clutching her stomach as she leaned back against the glass door.
"I told myself I won't fail…." She muttered.
She'd given up on her dreams once before because of failure. Was this happening again? Could she really be this unlucky?
Isa sniffled, trying to hold back tears as she shut her eyes.