Aurora and Heather were nearly at the cafeteria when Heather noticed the lightness in her companion’s demeanor, a surprise given the manager’s typically icy exterior. Clearly, the person on the other end of the phone was very important to her, someone she could truly be herself with.
“Miss Manager, this is the cafeteria. The first and second floors are for the regular staff, and the third floor is for the company’s executives and leaders. You can go up to the third floor,” Heather informed her.
“Okay, I know,” Aurora replied.
“I’ll go get my food then,” Heather said, as she was a regular employee and usually ate on the first floor. However, Aurora grabbed her hand.
“Come with me to the third floor; I don’t like crowds,” Aurora said calmly, a change from her love for lively scenes three years ago. Time had made her more composed, preferring tranquility over tumult.
“But I’m just a regular employee; I don’t have the card and I don’t have access to the third floor,” Heather whispered.
The third floor was restricted to prevent overcrowding, accessible only through a card system differentiating high-level executives from regular staff.
“I have one,” Aurora said, pulling her up the stairs without further discussion.
As they passed the second floor and approached the stairs to the third, the world seemed to quiet down, as if the stairwell marked the boundary between two worlds. The third floor stairs were carpeted exquisitely.
Is this the division between levels? The carpet felt soft under her shoes, and she trod carefully, feeling out of her element. It was just a meal, yet she felt as if she were entering a battlefield.
At the door, Aurora used her special meal card to gain entry, and it was Heather’s first time in the executive dining room, where most of the high-level staff did not eat at noon.
The quiet of the third floor contrasted sharply with the bustling scenes below, reassuring Heather.
For some reason, despite being invited by Aurora, she felt as though she was sneaking around.
“Miss Manager, what would you like to eat? I’ll get it for you,” Heather offered.
“I’m not a manager outside of work hours. If you don’t mind, you can treat me as a friend and call me Anne,” Aurora suggested.
Aurora had a keen eye for people. While others gossiped, she noticed Heather quietly minding her own business. She appreciated those who were diligent, unlike the gossip-mongers with no ambition.
“Can I really do that?” Heather looked up at her.
“We’re about the same age; there’s no reason why not. I’ll get the soup, and you can help with the food. Just avoid anything too greasy,” Aurora instructed calmly.
“Okay, Miss… no, Anne,” Heather felt a warm glow inside.
Aurora headed to the soup section, and Heather took care of the rest, reminiscent of her school days. Back then, she and Susan were inseparable. Now, Susan had become a star, and Heather had entered the cutthroat world of business.
Fate was indeed fickle.
The news of Susan’s upcoming wedding was everywhere, even playing on the cafeteria’s television, showing Susan laughing brightly in front of the media on her engagement day.
Hayden appeared much more composed, distinguishable as the male lead of the engagement party only by the suit he matched with Susan, though his expression was as indifferent like he was a passerby.
Aurora watched the couple on the TV screen, recalling the bitterness she felt when she first heard of their engagement and a mix of bitterness and resentment formed a complex emotion in her.
Yet, hearing Susan’s voice again softened her stance somewhat: “Yes, Hayden and I are doing well. We’re discussing the wedding plans and will let everyone know once we’ve set a date.”
Aurora’s face remained impassive, her animosity fading once she realized Hayden had only used her from the start. The man she had once fiercely pursued had never truly cared for her-an irony that served as her greatest rebuke.
Indeed, fate seemed fair. Despite the pain she had endured along the way, it had shaped her into an indomitable force. Adversity, she realized, was the best catalyst for growth, and it had led her to a love that was genuinely her own. The thought of Julian warmed her heart as she absentmindedly continued to sip her soup.
A loud crash interrupted her thoughts-a tray had hit the floor near her. Heather’s freshly prepared meal was scattered all over, with soup splashing onto her shoes and legs. The culprit, Alison, not satisfied with the mess, had deliberately flipped another plate of food in Heather’s hands. Alison smirked triumphantly, “This place isn’t for someone of your status.”
Heather clenched her fists, food dripping from her clothes down her front.
“Oh dear, my hand slipped, Heather. Should I apologize?” Alison was clearly still holding a grudge from being reprimanded by Aurora that morning. Unable to retaliate against Aurora, she had taken her anger out on Heather instead.
“Alison, don’t push it!” Heather, normally patient, could no longer contain her anger.
“Oh, are you upset? Then hit me, yell at me! If you dare, I’ll have you kicked out of the company. Remember, your poor father with renal disease needs a lot of money for treatment each month. What will you do without this job?” Alison knew Heather well, including her family’s financial troubles.
Aurora now understood why Heather was so cautious, not merely because she was the newcomer. Heather needed the job more than anything; she had a family to support and no room for frivolity-a stark contrast to Aurora’s own unencumbered life.
With a deeper appreciation for Heather’s situation, Aurora carried the tray towards them. “I need two, no, four servings of exactly what she had,” she announced. Hearing Aurora’s voice made Alison tremble; she hadn’t forgotten Aurora’s earlier scolding. Alison, realizing Aurora wasn’t even looking at her, assumed this incident wouldn’t concern her. Surely, she wouldn’t intervene.