The atmosphere in the restaurant had shifted. Joycelyn could feel the weight of Ellison’s presence at the table like a heavy cloak, suffocating the once light and relaxed mood. His calm demeanor was deceiving—there was an underlying intensity in his every action, every word, making it impossible to ignore. The others seemed to sense it too, their usual banter stilled, their faces betraying a mix of tension and discomfort.
As Ellison’s gaze lingered on Joycelyn, she tried to remain composed, but her heart was racing. The warmth she had felt earlier with her colleagues now felt distant, replaced by an unsettling chill that radiated from him. She glanced down at her untouched steak, wishing she could disappear under the table. What is he doing here?
Aurelia, always the composed one, cleared her throat and attempted to break the silence. “Well, it’s always a pleasure to have you join us, Mr. Grant. I’m sure we can find something more to your liking here.”
Ellison gave a slight nod, but his attention remained fixed on Joycelyn. “I didn’t come for the food, Aurelia,” he said with a casual air, but the words carried a heavier implication. “I came because it seems the conversation here has become more… interesting.”
Joycelyn shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Is he really doing this on purpose? Her thoughts spun, but she couldn’t find the courage to confront him. Every word out of his mouth seemed like a quiet challenge, making her feel more like a child being reprimanded than an adult sharing a meal with friends.
Ronny, who had been quietly eating his steak, caught the subtle tension in the air and decided to redirect the conversation. “Mr. Grant, I must say, your work at the company has been a real inspiration to us all. Your leadership is unparalleled.” He said it with a warm smile, hoping to ease the atmosphere.
Ellison didn’t respond immediately. He simply picked up his glass of water, his eyes narrowing as he studied Ronny. “Thank you, Mr. Downs. But I’m sure you didn’t come here just to talk about my ‘leadership.’” His voice was soft but unmistakably commanding.
Joycelyn felt her stomach drop. This is not just about the steak anymore, she thought, her nerves on edge. It was clear that Ellison had come for something else—a point to prove, a line to draw, and maybe even to unsettle her. She wasn’t sure what his game was, but the pressure was unbearable.
Selene, ever the optimist, tried again to fill the silence with a joke. “Mr. Grant, you’ve really made this meal a lot more exciting than I anticipated. Are you always this… commanding, or is this a special occasion?”
Ellison looked at Selene, his expression unreadable, before answering with a small smirk. “I wouldn’t call it commanding, Selene. Just… direct.”
Joycelyn didn’t know whether to laugh at the irony or cringe. It was clear that Ellison wasn’t about to let the situation slide. He was keenly aware of every word being said, every shift in the air.
Trying her best to steady her emotions, Joycelyn finally spoke up, her voice softer than she would have liked. “Mr. Grant, if you’re not hungry, you don’t have to stay. We’re just trying to enjoy lunch. It’s not necessary to… add more to the conversation.”
Ellison’s eyes met hers, and for a brief moment, there was something almost… calculating in his gaze. “I’m not here to disrupt your lunch, Joycelyn,” he said, his voice smooth but carrying an unmistakable weight. “But I have an interest in how things are developing here. It seems some of my employees have… grown closer than I would have anticipated.”
His words hung in the air like a threat, and Joycelyn’s face turned pale. Does he mean Ronny? Or me? The way he said it, so pointedly, made it clear that he was aware of something. But what?
Ronny, sensing the rising tension, shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Mr. Grant, if you’d like, we can just… let you enjoy the meal,” he said, his voice polite but with a trace of unease.
“No need to interrupt, Mr. Downs,” Ellison replied smoothly. “I’m just curious about how things are going with… Joycelyn. After all, I did bring her to the company, didn’t I?” His words felt like a subtle jab, designed to put Joycelyn in her place, and yet, there was an almost unsettling softness to his tone.
Joycelyn, feeling cornered and desperate to change the subject, tried to steer the conversation away from her and Ellison. “Aurelia, Selene, don’t you think we should order dessert?” she suggested, her voice betraying her anxiety.
Aurelia, ever the peacemaker, smiled faintly and nodded. “That’s a good idea, Joycelyn. We’ve all had a long week.”
But before anyone could speak further, Ellison cut in, his tone final. “Dessert can wait. I’ve already had what I came for.”
Joycelyn’s heart sank as she realized what he meant. He came here for me. The realization hit her hard, and for a moment, the room felt suffocating. She looked around at the others, but no one dared to speak. Even Selene, who usually had something to say, was eerily silent.
Ellison stood up, his movements smooth and deliberate. “Enjoy the rest of your meal,” he said, his gaze lingering on Joycelyn a moment longer before turning to leave.
As he walked away, Joycelyn’s mind raced. What just happened? It was as if Ellison had invaded her space, thrown off her composure, and left without a trace of the tension he had stirred.
She was left sitting there, still reeling, unsure of how to recover from the encounter. The rest of the meal passed in silence, with no one daring to speak until they had finished.
But as the conversation finally resumed, Joycelyn couldn’t shake the feeling that something between her and Ellison had changed. That look, that subtle challenge—it wasn’t something she could easily forget.
And she had a sinking feeling that Ellison wasn’t done with her yet.
