Victor

A chilly autumn wind greeted you as you and your team pulled up in front of the Chelsea Hotel. Leaves swirled around the entrance, and you shivered involuntarily—your coat was too light for this weather.

It was warm inside and smelled of expensive perfume. The administrator handed you a key card.

— Your colleague hasn't checked in yet. You can go to your room. Have a nice day.

You nodded. Your friend wasn't due to arrive for another hour, so you calmly went up to your double suite and began unpacking. After the long drive, a shower felt like a relief, and you wasted no time in going to the bathroom.

A few minutes later, you heard the sound of a door opening. You didn't pay attention, thinking it was your friend who had arrived earlier.

Stepping out of the shower, throwing on a robe, you headed to the sink to brush your teeth... and froze.

Victor stood in front of you.

Your boss. Strict, always impeccably collected Victor.

He leaned over the sink, clearly irritated, trying to wipe a dark stain from the cuff of his perfectly white shirt.

Drops of water flowed down the fabric, and he, noticing you in the reflection of the mirror, froze for a second.

“It looks like we got the same room,” he said calmly, though there was tension in his voice.

Only now did you realize that the administrator probably mixed up the reservation.