Erin Suryo was a whirlwind at Higher Atelier, a cutting-edge online education company housed in a modern, four-story building.

Unlike the rest of the staff, known for their sharp suits and serious demeanor, Erin was a vibrant burst of color.


Her sun-kissed skin, gleaming smile perfected by veneers, and long, cascading waves of hair turned heads. Bold makeup, dramatic lashes, and figure-hugging clothes that showcased her curves made her the center of attention, a walking conversation starter.

Her personality was as infectious as her appearance. Arriving precisely at the start of each day, Erin greeted everyone she encountered, from the first floor to the third, with genuine warmth. She answered calls with a cheerful smile, offered witty jokes, and accepted invitations with unfaltering positivity.

Within a week, Erin's beauty and gregariousness began to grate on certain colleagues. Why, they wondered, had Mrs. Berta, who already had her own ever-present assistant, chosen such a flamboyant secretary? The fact that Mrs. Berta was frequently out of the office fueled their discontent.


Rumors swirled. Some whispered about Erin's smoking habit indulged discreetly behind the office. Others unearthed her social media, abuzz with late-night clubbing and extravagant staycations. Malicious gossip painted her as a carefree party girl.

This is Indonesia, a nation often synonymous with the idyllic island of Bali, held a complex cultural undercurrent. Here, modesty for women was highly valued. Concepts like partying and drinking, while not inherently wrong, could sometimes carry negative connotations when associated with women. This, unfortunately, could lead to the use of disrespectful and hurtful labels.


Gerald, the Operations Manager, was one such gossipmonger. While openly smitten with Erin, he reveled in spreading these rumors. One day, she cornered her in the pantry.

"Hey girl," he drawled, his voice laced with insinuation, "what time do you finish tonight?"

Erin's voice, a deep, husky contralto, rumbled, "Why?"

The huskiness only amplified her allure in Gerald's eyes. "Let's go out. Anywhere you like."

"What's the occasion?" Erin took a sip of coffee, her gaze fixed on Gerald's increasingly nervous fidgeting.

"Just… you and me. Maybe grab a drink. Or… if you want…" He paused, feeling like he was propositioning a lottery winner. "We could go further. Maybe Wizz or Grand Zira. Up to you."

Erin's self-control was impressive. Given her appearance and Gerald's suggestive tone, it would have been easy to misinterpret his offer. She nodded slowly, tapping her index finger against her cup in mock contemplation. "Actually, I'm attending a bridal shower tonight. Then, it's on to the Mighty Club – my favorite DJ is playing, and it's a VIP event, not for the 'common folk.'" A sly smile played on her lips. "And for the staycations, well, I wouldn't settle for anything less than the Sheraton or Oakwood Suites. Oh, and Gerald…" She leaned in, adjusting her collar with a playful touch, "yours salary dwarfs mine."

This only fueled further rumors, this time painting her as materialistic. Erin could only shake her head at Gerald's cowardice. His negativity held no power over her.

Despite being relegated to a cubicle compartmentalized with flimsy plywood, Erin remained a beacon of sunshine. Each time she left or returned to her desk, she greeted everyone with a genuine smile, completely oblivious to the hypocritical scowls behind her back. The men, however, were increasingly drawn to her outspoken nature.

One afternoon, Mrs. Berta, a petite woman sporting a slightly oversized striped blazer, bustled into Erin's personal room. "Erin, where's the project I requested? Your father mentioned that you needed a fresh start, but this gossip is becoming a major distraction."

Mrs. Berta was Erin's kind-hearted aunt's.

After a year of losing control of her social life while work in Australia, Erin had returned to Indonesia. There are only two choices: work as a director at her father's food company in a remote, hot city or find her own job, but have to make big changes. This success story had landed her a position with Mrs. Berta at the booming online education company.

"Don't worry, Auntie," Erin assured her, her voice casual. "The project will be ready before 2022 ends."

"Good. But try to be a bit more…professional, Er. Less…showy." Mrs. Berta's gaze dropped to Erin's mini skirt.

Erin winked. "You need a little distraction, Auntie. Keeps the world balanced."

"I saw a group of male employees looking at… well, let's just say your bikini photos seem to be making the rounds. Don't you find that embarrassing?"

Erin simply shrugged. She hadn't been naive; her Instagram, despite the complex username, was bound to attract attention.

She doesn't follow anyone's Instagram in this office. "Just relax, Auntie. All of my posts are public, and no matter what I wear on Instagram, it won't affect my performance here. You can control what you can control, Auntie. That's all."


Erin was smart enough to play with words and make her aunt think. Berta blinked hard, realizing her niece was implying that her clothes or social media posts were none of her business.

"Whatever. Anyway, before the end of 2022, this fantastic project needs to be included in the report."

"Okay, my lovely Auntie!" Erin respected her aunt, despite the woman's snort in response.

Her twenty-eight years of life had exposed her to various types of people. It began with her parents' divorce in elementary school, forcing her to move from Sumba to Jakarta. Then her mother, Christy, married Rudolf, an Indonesian citizen living in Australia who worked as a chef. While in Australia, Erin also moved frequently. Her younger brother, Nathan, five years younger, shared her adventurous spirit. They sometimes only came home twice a year, busy exploring "Kangaroo country."

This experience honed Erin's ability to read people's movements.

As she headed down to the first floor, she saw four office employees whispering to each other and then following her.

The pantry felt hot and stuffy, the smell of Indomie ramen noodles wafting through. Erin rarely ate heavy lunches, usually just a banana and a cup of instant coffee. For some reason, since returning to Indonesia, she had developed a fondness for sugary coffee sachets.

While she unwrapped the coffee, pouring the powder into her trusty white cup, the pantry door opened.

Erin looked up to see four young men entering slowly. "Hi guys. Have you eaten?" She greeted them, not recognizing them, but assuming they were third-floor employees.

"Yes, Erin. Are you going to eat?"

"Yes. What did you guys have earlier?" Erin leaned against the ceramic table, facing the four men.

"Usually, we eat rice bowl. Don't you ever eat catered food?" The one in the purple shirt spoke, seemingly very young, early twenties at most.

"Yes, I eat that most often," Erin said, holding up the Sunpride banana she brought from the fourth floor.

"Oh, it feels nice just to look at it," the one in the mustard shirt whispered, but loudly enough for his friends to laugh.

Erin couldn't deny it; her chest tightened at their insensitive joke. After all, she didn't know them. How could they think they could be so familiar with someone they barely knew?

Erin exhaled slowly, setting down her coffee cup and picking up the whole banana. "Does it nice to see this?" She rubbed the banana from end to end, her eyes locking with their bewildered gazes.

Erin declared with force, splitting the banana in two. Groans erupted from all of them.

The door suddenly opened, revealing a tall man whose head almost brushed the top. He carried two cartons of mineral water and placed them in the corner of the room. When he stood up again, Erin was immediately struck by his broad-shouldered physique. An anime character come to life! He was lean but well-proportioned, and Erin could guess he had a defined stomach. Fine hair, a thin mustache, and slightly long hair completed his undeniably masculine look.

"Hmmm, who is he? I feel like I've never seen him before," Erin thought, even though she'd been here for three months.

"Mr. Wahyu, that's all, right?" a voice boomed from outside.

"That's it, Amir!" Came the reply.

"Oh, so this is Amir..."

Erin silently noted that Amir's name was one of the most frequently mentioned on the third floor. It wasn't surprising; he was the IT staff member responsible for maintaining all the electronic equipment for work continuity. If she recalled correctly, Amir had also been the first to help set up her PC. But she had no idea he was this attractive!

"Okay then!" the man outside exclaimed again, straightening his red shirt. He casually entered the pantry, grabbed a glass, and filled it with cold water from the dispenser.

"Come on, suck that Erin," one of the young men said, pulling Erin's attention back. She had missed the cue of who spoke.

However, this one made her heart flutter a little. The same reaction was evident in Amir's gaze as he too looked at the four now-sulking young men.

"What do you mean by that?" Amir's deep voice reverberated through the pantry, sending shivers down Erin's spine.

The four men, suddenly flustered, exchanged nervous pats on the shoulder. "N-no," stammered one. "We were just, uh, watching her eat her banana..." His voices trailed off, unconvincing and laced with apology.

Amir's gaze landed on Erin. The usually confident woman stood clutching two broken bananas, a bizarre expression contorting her face. Shock, anger, and confusion warred within her.

"That's inappropriate behavior," Amir boomed. "Turn around and get back to work! Have you all even eaten yet?"

"Come on, don't be so uptight," the mustard-shirted man mumbled. "We still have some break time left."

"Don't you recall the HR regulations? The pantry is designated for eating, not socializing. Do you want me to report you to HR for another refresher on company policy?"

Amir's question sent shivers down their spines. Fresh recruits received a hefty handbook during their probation period – a notorious torture device due to its sheer volume. The handbook wasn't just regulations; it was a convoluted blend of company history, vision, mission statements, and everything in between. Amir's threat was enough to send them scrambling back to their desks, leaving chairs scattered in their wake.

"Don't waste your energy on those brats," Amir advised, downing the rest of his water.

For some reason, the air in the pantry suddenly felt frigid to Erin.

Before she could react, Amir brushed past her on his way to rinse his glass. His close proximity sent a jolt of conflicting sensations through her – a sudden chill followed by a wave of heat. To top it off, a captivating scent emanated from him. A clean, masculine aroma that mingled with a familiar, almost comforting hint of sweat. An odd combination that somehow smelled delicious.

"Are you alright?" Amir asked, voice low and husky, without even turning towards her as he rinsed the glass.

Erin cleared her throat, trying to compose herself. "Yes, I'm fine. Thank you."

Amir examined the glass, ensuring it was completely dry before placing it on the shelf upside down. Erin plastered on her best smile, eager to meet his gaze.

But what happened next left her bewildered.

Amir simply walked right past her. Exits made, eyes averted, the man vanished from the room as if she were invisible.

Erin's jaw dropped. What on earth just happened? Why wasn't she getting the attention she craved?

There must be some mistake! Amir clearly didn't realize who he was dealing with. He'd learn soon enough.