Jensen
stretched across the skies, becoming a painted backdrop to the darkened skyscrapers and palm trees. Mid-sip of his coffee, Jensen admired the still-sleeping city, softened without the rush of morning traffic.
Jensen would never be at work before seven on a given day, but sleeplessness pushed him out of bed in search of a distraction. He hit the gym for some cardio and weights, showered, and made breakfast with too much time left to waste at home.
So, he headed into the office, beating the rush hour traffic.
Jensen walked past the conference room, leaving the August sunrise behind for his office. His reflection rippled across the darkened glass, contrasted against the sickly glow from the fluorescent lights, all loose, damp hair and a crisp woolen suit.
His body ached from that morning’s run, but he yearned for the peaceful hush over his thoughts while his feet hit the speeding treadmill. Air conditioning and cable news had occupied him, leaving the countdown between him and December at the gym doors.
As he reached his office, the sight of Daisy’s office stopped him in his tracks. When Jensen went to make his coffee and watch the sunrise, he was alone on the floor. But now, Daisy sat behind her office desk, basking in the subtle light.
Wearing her favorite pair of headphones, Daisy swayed in her chair to whatever she listened to. Jensen always pegged her as an indie girl or classic rock based on how his dad recounted their conversations about beloved rock bands.
Her sandy blonde waves framed her face while she typed away at her laptop, intensely focused on her screen. She hadn't spotted Jensen staring at her, so he turned into his office, intending to keep it that way.
Jensen settled behind his desk, cluttered with paperwork and his laptop. In his restlessness, he shafted some of his big-picture assignments while trying to brainstorm his policy proposal. Unlike Daisy, who had around thirty pages of the right answer, nothing came to Jensen.
He considered soliciting the opinions of trusted colleagues. However, no one seemed willing to disclose what they hated about work to the boss's son. Therefore, Jensen was on his own, barely treading water.
Jensen's eyes jumped up at the movement, seeing Daisy rising from her desk. His gaze dropped down her flowy cream blouse, tucked into the waistband of pressed navy slacks. When she bent over for a pen on the floor, the pants molded around her perky ass and soft hips like a second pair of skin.
“Oh, Christ,” Jensen whispered, head slumping back into the padded chair. His eyes squeezed shut, gripping the edge of the desk and breathing hard through his nose. Popping a boner from one look at Daisy in tight pants wouldn’t be his proudest moment.
He needed to stop acting like a horny teenager who’d never seen a pretty girl before. Have some decorum.
Jensen cracked open an eye, daring to search for Daisy. Luckily, he witnessed her gorgeous ass striding toward the break room. His eyes trailed her until she vanished from his angle, able to breathe with her out of view.
Ever since returning from the retreat, neither of them managed to stay away. What should’ve become a momentary distraction spiraled into a full-fledged affair behind the scenes. Their sharp-tongued exchanges in the break room turned into heated make-outs in the back of Jensen’s convertible. Daisy’s scoffs and snide remarks became moans of his name and pleading for more while her nails raked down his back.
She had him hooked on her.
Despite the flush under his collar, Jensen scooted closer to his desk, already behind on his work. He opened his email and checklist for the week; with enough focus, he could finish all his assignments and then fling himself back into his relatively unsuccessful policy proposal.
Fingers raced over the keys faster than he'd thought possible, churning emails and setting up investor meetings. Under Daisy's supervision, the Alpine project began to garner some buzz among their loyal investors, and as a result, the questions came rolling to his desk.
“Who knew ski chalets would be such a hit? Usually, the old guys like the tropics for the golf and sun,” Jensen clicked his tongue while sifting through all the unread emails from his inbox. Before his eyes, his list of priorities sorted itself out, making the day a little easier to swallow.
Midway through his tenth email, the door to his office creaked open. Jensen didn't look up from the computer while finishing his sentence. "Our meeting isn't for several hours, so I assume it's urgent."
He and Daisy stumbled into using codewords for their little encounters. Neither ventured too far out of the box when choosing “meeting” as their signal for a quick rendezvous.
No one suspected anything when he or Daisy uttered the word aloud, not while in the office’s four walls.
At the silence, Jensen’s eyes lifted from his computer screen while sending his last email. However, the sight of Delaney standing there, wearing oversized clothes belonging to a man, paralyzed him.
Immediate questions of why she was there and how she got into the offices bounced around his head with such velocity. Delaney’s eyes stared at him expectantly, arms folded over her chest like she had any right to be upset.
During their entire relationship, Delaney never came to the office before a certain hour. She always cited her disdain for leaving bed before nine AM, but it only took several months with Easton to change that habit.
“Who did you think I was?” Delaney asked.
“You’re not welcome here,” Jensen sighed, finding it too early for a fight, even if it was Delaney. For weeks, he managed to avoid thoughts of her, finally appearing like his life got back on track. He found better people to keep his mind occupied. “You’re lucky Daisy hasn’t seen you yet. I’m sure she’s still itching to give you an earful.”
Delaney’s face contorted, twisting her normally doe-like eyes into a cutting glare. She leaned forward, fists pressed into his desk. “Didn’t realize you and Daisy were close these days.”
“What can I say? She and I realized we had plenty in common. We both love the company and want to be CEO, among other things,” Jensen remarked, hoping he sounded half as harsh as Delaney did.
Delaney’s eyes widened for a split second, regaining her coldness. “That’s low.”
“Yeah, I don’t care. Why are you here?” Jensen closed his laptop, folding his hands on top of the computer. He watched his ex-girlfriend fidget with the pockets of her borrowed clothes, hanging off her frame like a child playing dress-up.
“I let myself in. I borrowed Easton’s card,” Delaney admitted. All Hidden Oasis members received a key card to swipe in during off-hours, having access to all entrances and exits. “I came because you’ve been avoiding me.”
“Gee, I wonder why.”
“I get it. You hate me. But I have some information you need to hear. It’s about Daisy, and it’ll make you think twice about becoming friendly with her.”
“You have two minutes. So, keep this brief. If you step over the line once, you're done."
Jensen flashed his watch to Delaney, tapping its face. The moment he suspected her of wasting his time, his last shred of grace would be walking into the elevator.
Delaney sighed, “Easton and I had been talking about Daisy last night. He had been ranting about her proposal, whatever that meant, and about how she didn't deserve her position in the company. He told me that, while they were together, Daisy got super drunk one night at his place and confessed that she'd been arrested before. Jensen, she has a juvenile record—”
Jensen’s breath hitched in his throat, but denial flashed through his head. There was no way Delaney's allegations were true. “Alright, that’s enough. You’re done.”
“I’m telling the truth! That girl is a criminal! A fraud!” Delaney pointed accusingly at Daisy's empty office.
"Which you're basing on the word of her asshole ex-boyfriend. That's hardly convincing," Jensen hissed, watching Delaney shrink back from him. His voice raised, words spewing past his lips too fast to stop, “I know Daisy. The company wouldn’t have hired her if that were true.”
"How well do you know Daisy outside of the front she puts on at work? I remember all your venting sessions about her. I haven’t forgotten the space she took in our relationship,” Delaney said, breaking Jensen’s patience.
“Get out.”
“Fine. But I warned you. If Daisy wins, you'll be upset you didn't stop her by whatever means possible. I know my grandpa warned you about this."
Delaney stormed out of his office, striding down the hallway toward the elevator. Jensen braced for the sounds of a scuffle if she and Daisy ran into one another, but the quiet call of the elevator filled the silence.
He slumped into his chair, head buried into his hands. In the heat of the moment, Jensen rushed to Daisy’s defense. But, when confronted by the silence, he wondered.
What did he know about Daisy?
Jensen fumbled for his office phone. He punched in Iris’ personal line, knowing she wasn’t in yet. He’d leave a message because Iris owed him a huge favor, one he planned to collect.
He cradled the phone to his ear, whispering after the answering machine message, “Iris, it’s Jensen. Call me back as soon as you get this message. It’s an emergency.”
Jensen spent the workday pacing around his office in between meetings, calls, and answering emails. Close to twelve hours passed between him leaving the message on Iris’ machine, but he caught her earlier in the day.
At first, Iris balked at his suggestion. His request—pulling Daisy’s original job application and requisite background check—went against company policy. He gambled with both of their jobs simply by asking.
However, the nagging worry about what Delaney said ate away at him all day.
Jensen saw two outcomes for him, both win-win if played right. If Delaney and Easton were correct, he stumbled upon the best possible ammunition to secure his future. If they were lying, then Daisy's file should prove her innocence. The truth would fix everything.
Jensen pushed away from his desk to pace some more. He half-expected to find scorched impressions in the shape of his boots burned into the floor. God, he’d never been so knocked off-kilter when seeing Daisy before.
She haunted him, staring at him with a confused look to stir the faint twinge of guilt lingering in his chest. When he acknowledged its presence, it grew. If he ignored it, the sensation ate away at his resistance.
He needed answers, but at what cost?
Darkened offices filled the hallway outside his door, emptied hours before when the workday ended. Jensen stayed behind, waiting for the call to come at any moment. He couldn't imagine finding sleep without knowing, tossing and turning in his bed instead of pacing.
The shrill ring of the office phone interrupted his thoughts. Jensen nearly sailed over the desk, answering the phone with it gripped tight in hand. “Hello?”
"Jensen," Iris greeted, but her voice rattled over one word. "There's something you need to see. I don't want to take these files out of HR. What's your personal fax?"
"+424-85-0034." Jensen spun around, squinting hard to recite the numbers printed on the side of his fax machine. He rarely used it, leaving it to gather dust in his office. “Maybe I should come to you.”
"No. I'll delete the fax. You can shred the papers when you're done," Iris remarked, voice still shaky as papers began to slide out of the fax machine. "Have they shown up yet?"
“They’re coming.”
“Let me know when it’s all printed.”
“Okay.”
Jensen watched the papers slide into the tray, recognizing the familiar questions from the new hire application. Neat handwriting filled the open spaces, but the last page had a grainy headshot of none other than a younger Daisy.
He grabbed the papers from the fax machine, running his thumb along the long edge. Jensen mumbled, "All the papers came through. What do I need to see?"
"You'll need to look at page three for any information about the background check," Iris said. Jensen flipped to the third page, eyes sweeping over the information. "The files indicate that something flagged in her background check, but there's a note from the interviewer at the time."
"What exactly flagged the background check?"
"I couldn't bring myself to read it. It's wrong to invade Daisy's privacy, Jensen."
"I'll read it myself," Jensen assured, even while his stomach turned into a knotted mess. He scanned the page until he reached the section on criminal history, finding more than the standard not applicable. His heart fell through his stomach, heavier than lead. "Give me a second."
"Of course," Iris' voice echoed distantly while Jensen read through the file.
". . . Iris, has there ever been an exception to a failed background check?" Jensen asked, finding it hard to speak through the lump in his throat.
"In the seven years I've been here, no. Company policy forbids it with no exceptions. None of the HR managers who trained me allowed for exceptions either," Iris replied.
"Then, who has the authority to approve a special circumstance? Who would break the rules so blatantly?"
"I don't know."
"Thank you, Iris. I'll dig into everything further myself." Lost in the rush, Jensen missed the quiet creak of the door, but his body turned enough to catch sight of someone in his doorway. Daisy.
Her eyes dropped from his face to his hands, noticing the application with her writing all over it. "I have to go."
Jensen barely hung up the phone on poor Iris before Daisy pointed at the papers. "Where did you get those?"
"Daisy. . ."
"You went snooping through my files? Accessing personnel records from HR is against company policy!"
"You know what else is against company policy? Hiring people who fail the background check, especially those with criminal records."
"You don't know what you're talking about." The color drained from Daisy's face while her eyes flicked between Jensen's and her file. She pushed the door to his office closed, cutting their conversation off from the otherwise empty hallway.
"I don't? Does shoplifting and criminal trespassing ring a bell? What I still haven’t figured out is who covered this up because it's all over the files," said Jensen.
“You’ve crossed a line,” Daisy mumbled. Jensen wasn't in the mood for her games.
"Is that right?"
"Yeah, it is."
"Well, you sure like keeping your secrets. If Delaney hadn't—"
"If Delaney hadn't, what? Go on, Jensen, enlighten me about what fucking Delaney said to encourage your out-of-line fishing expedition."
Jensen met Daisy's eyes, finding her face revived with bursts of red in her cheeks. Those damn whiskey eyes glinted angrily in the dim office, darkened with a warning. Tread lightly, or else.
His jaw twitched. "Delaney ambushed me this morning. She told me that Easton confided in her about you having a criminal record, disclosed while you were drunk. I didn't believe her at first, but I thought checking your files would put my worries to rest. Look how wrong I was."
"Don't act like you're a victim here. Neither you, Delaney, or Easton had your privacy invaded, and your deepest shame revealed without your consent!" Daisy snapped. Her hands balled up into fists by her head, but she dropped her hands. She spun away from him, flashing him her profile. Shadows stretched across her face, plunging her anger into the spotlight.
"Oh, so that makes you the victim?" Jensen scoffed. Somehow, the thought of Daisy getting a corporate job with a salary more than most people make in five years, a world-class education at UCLA, and plenty of material things didn't paint her as a hapless victim.
He tossed the file onto his desk, but the slap of the papers against the counter snapped the mounting tension. The room felt hot, warmer than the sticky, late-August heat outside. Jensen's heart rattled around in his chest, watching Daisy scowl at the wall.
Daisy leaned around, snatching up the file from Jensen's desk before he could. She thumbed through the pages until she reached the front. Jensen noticed the slightest hesitation of her hand, grazing over the photocopied headshot.
Her throat bobbed as she whispered, "You're lucky, you know that? You grew up in Beverly Hills with a loving family unit, never wanting for anything because your dad's filthy rich. I'm surprised you can feign empathy with that silver spoon shoved so far down your throat. Be thankful you've never needed to debase your reputation and do things you weren't proud of in the name of survival. Even after the record's been sealed for years, I'm still paying for my indiscretions, and you're just as bad as Delaney and Easton."
Jensen froze. Normally, a snappy comeback would pop up, ready to fire back. Yet he stumbled, at a loss for words, "Daisy. . ."
"Forget it. To think I started respecting you a little more since the retreat, but I made a mistake there. Feel free to tell everyone about my past so they can also judge me. You win," Daisy scoffed, but she almost sounded worn down.
A wince escaped him when Daisy slapped the files back onto his desk. The awkward smile of her photo faced him, feeling more like a stab between the ribs than a rush of validation. Earlier, he considered finding dirt on Daisy a win. Now, the idea felt hollow and wrong in all the worst ways.
The heated conversation boiled over when a knock put the room on ice. Jensen's eyes widened when he spotted his dad hovering outside the officer. As he opened the door, Daisy bolted.
She mumbled her greeting to him and strode down the hall. Yet, she didn't move fast enough to hide how her hands wiped at her eyes. Jensen watched her go, picking up the file from the desk.
"Come in." Jensen waved his dad into the room. "We need to talk."
"Sounds serious. What's going on?" his dad asked, stepping inside the office as Jensen requested. Although he spoke, his eyes drifted to the file held in Jensen's arms.
Jensen exhaled, "I might've broken a rule about HR files, but I think someone covered up a massive red flag in Daisy's application. Dad, she has a criminal record. The file said there were special orders to overlook it—"
"A criminal record that has been not only sealed but expunged," his dad remarked, seemingly unfazed by Jensen's discovery. "I gave the order.”
"What?"
"I also petitioned the court on Daisy's behalf, being her support and part of her rehabilitation plan."
The ground beneath him shifted, forcing Jensen to lean against his desk before his legs failed him. All at once, his thoughts screamed for clarity, and the foundation of what he 'knew' cracked under the pressure. Instead of answers, he discovered more questions to the mystery of Daisy Riggs.
"Why?" Jensen questioned, but the words felt like a borderline interrogation of his dad.
His dad sighed, abstaining from the frown so evident in his eyes. "Do you remember when you were fifteen, and we had that argument about you taking over the company one day?"
"Of course I do," Jensen whispered, remembering the night too well. At fifteen, he fell into an identity crisis, one he thought would be cured by abandoning his family’s plan for him to inherit Hidden Oasis.
"We went to an event that same night for the office. Investors and colleagues gushed to me about what a fine young man you were becoming and how the company would be perfect in your hands. I followed the conversations, even when I thought I was lying to my colleagues. But then, security pulled me aside and demanded a private audience. They'd caught a young, frightened thief attempting to break into the car for a roll of cash that fell out of my pocket."
Jensen stood there, caught up in the story as his dad told it. The memory resurfaced in perfect detail, but the gaps filled themselves in the more his dad spoke.
"Security brought me to confront her before they handed her off to the police. But I looked into her eyes, a kid no older than you with such desperation, and asked her why she tried to break in."
Jensen swallowed. “Did she tell you why? I assume you didn’t call the police, right?”
"I didn't. Daisy had a good reason, and it isn't my story to tell. But she doesn't owe you an explanation," Harrison said. His tone bordered on an accusation, making Jensen’s chest sting. “We were in a position to uplift someone in need. So, I opted not to press charges for that night and helped her get the prior incidents expunged. I gave her the money on the sole condition that she came to the office and interviewed for a legitimate job."
"Looks like she did," Jensen whispered, seeing the misty glaze settling over his dad's eyes when recalling that night.
“She did. At the time, she didn’t know a thing about hospitality, but I promised her she could learn. Meeting Daisy that night felt like a sign from the universe, handing me the perfect fail-safe in the wake of you not wanting the company,” Harrison remarked.
Those words landed harder than the rest, crashing into him. He let his dad down all those years ago, but Daisy rescued him in uncertainty, fixing Jensen’s messes since before he even knew her name.
For a moment, the room went still. Jensen sat in the discomfort of the silence, stammering over his words, “On a scale of one to ten, how badly have I fucked up this time?”
“Eleven.” Harrison eased the papers from his hand. “I’ll handle these, but you should consider how to apologize. I don’t want to get too involved in your two’s rivalry or whatever you call it, but this deserves an apology.”
“You’re right. I’ll- I’ll figure something out,” Jensen agreed, reaching for his phone before stopping. Calling her wouldn’t fix his mess.
“Before you rush into it and make another mistake, consider looking into the company’s healthcare policy. Trust me on this one. Daisy always took a special interest in reforms during elections,” Harrison suggested, tipping his hand to Jensen one last time before he dismissed himself.
In those words, Jensen planned to find the first step of an apology.