Bangchan

Christopher Bang Chan leaned back in his leather chair, glancing briefly at his laptop screen. His schedule had been planned down to the minute last week, but now he had set aside twenty minutes for the interview. A new secretary. The third in six months.

He detested side conversations, forgetfulness, and unnecessary distractions. The previous assistant shattered all those expectations on the very first day, and Chan's short but firm conversation was enough to end her trial period before it even truly began.

He glanced at the folder containing the resume on the table. A candidate without much direct experience, but with excellent training and a solid track record. Interesting. Normally, profiles like that didn't apply for this type of position—not at this company, and especially not to work directly with him.

The door opened after a light knock. She went in.

Chan looked up. And, for a moment too brief to ignore, his fingers stopped moving on the table. The room was silent, broken only by the constant hum of the air conditioning.

Something about the way she entered, her controlled posture—calm, but not submissive—immediately caught his attention. She didn't look away, didn't try to smile excessively, didn't show unnecessary hesitation.

He made a slight gesture with his hand, indicating the chair ahead.

— Sit down.

After she settled down, Chan observed her for a few seconds longer than usual, taking his time to begin speaking.

— Did you apply for the executive secretary position? *

• He is married