Mopping My Way Into Her Heart

ACCIDENTAL MEETING

At 4:37 in the morning, David Reyes was already awake.

Not because he wanted to be.

Wanting had very little to do with the way David had lived most of his life.

His alarm had not even gone off yet when he opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling of the small house he shared with his two younger sisters.

For several seconds, he remained perfectly still.

Then he heard something from the kitchen.

CLANG.

David closed his eyes again.

A second sound followed.

CLATTER.

Then—

“Kuya!”

David sat up immediately.

“What happened?”

No answer.

He swung his legs off the bed, grabbed the shirt hanging from the chair beside him, and walked quickly toward the kitchen.

He found his sixteen-year-old sister standing in front of the stove with a frying pan in one hand and a spatula in the other.

Smoke floated toward the ceiling.

David stared at her.

Suzzy Reyes stared back.

Neither spoke.

Finally, David looked at the frying pan.

“What is that?”

“Breakfast.”

“It was breakfast.”

Suzzy frowned.

“It still is.”

David walked over and examined what appeared to be three eggs fused into a single black object.

He poked it with the spatula.

The thing did not move.

David raised an eyebrow.

“I think you invented roofing material.”

Suzzy glared at him.

“I was trying to help.”

“I know.”

“You don’t sound grateful.”

“I am very grateful.”

“You’re insulting my cooking.”

“I can do both.”

Suzzy put the pan down dramatically.

“You’re impossible.”

“So I’ve been told.”

David turned off the stove and opened the kitchen window.

Their home was small but clean.

The paint on some of the walls had faded. One cabinet door never completely closed unless someone kicked the bottom corner. The refrigerator made a strange vibrating noise every few hours, and the dining table had one leg David had reinforced with scrap wood.

Nothing matched.

Almost everything had been repaired at least once.

David preferred it that way.

Repairing something was cheaper than replacing it.

And cheap mattered.

Especially when one sister was finishing college and another was preparing to graduate high school.

From the hallway came a sleepy voice.

“Why does it smell like someone cremated breakfast?”

Emmy appeared wearing an oversized shirt, her long hair tied loosely behind her head.

Suzzy pointed at David.

“Kuya insulted my eggs.”

Emmy looked at the frying pan.

“Were they eggs?”

“They still are!”

David reached for another pan.

“Sit down.”

Suzzy crossed her arms.

“I can cook.”

“I’m sure you can.”

“You don’t believe me.”

“I believe you can learn.”

“That is different.”

David started cracking fresh eggs.

Emmy smiled and sat at the table.

“Good morning, Kuya.”

“Morning.”

“You’re up early.”

David looked at her.

Emmy immediately realized what she had said.

She laughed.

“Right. You’re always up early.”

David gave a small grunt of agreement.

He moved around the kitchen efficiently.

Three eggs.

Rice from last night.

Some tomatoes.

A little dried fish.

Coffee.

Simple.

Enough.

Suzzy watched him from the opposite side of the counter.

“What time do you leave?”

“Six.”

“First day?”

David nodded.

“Permanent?”

Another nod.

Suzzy tried not to smile.

She failed.

David noticed but pretended not to.

For the past several years, permanent work had always seemed slightly out of reach.

He had worked construction.

Delivery.

Warehouse loading.

Motorcycle repair.

Security.

Driving.

Cleaning.

Basic electrical work.

A few weeks in a restaurant kitchen.

Three months helping a carpenter.

Several months moving equipment for an events company.

Jobs came.

Jobs ended.

Some paid well but disappeared without warning.

Others lasted but barely covered their expenses.

The new position at Ferdinand Motor Corporation was different.

Permanent janitorial staff.

Regular salary.

Benefits.

Health coverage.

Retirement contributions.

A stable schedule.

David had read the employment contract three times before signing it.

Not because he distrusted the company.

Because stability had always made him suspicious.

He had spent too many years waiting for the next problem.

Emmy poured coffee into his mug.

“This is good, Kuya.”

David looked at her.

“What?”

“This job.”

“I know.”

“You don’t look excited.”

“I am excited.”

Suzzy snorted.

“That is his excited face.”

David pointed the spatula at her.

“Eat.”

Suzzy sat.

Emmy took a plate from him.

“I still think you should let me work more after classes.”

“No.”

“Kuya.”

“Finish school.”

“I can finish school and work.”

“You already have your internship.”

“That’s not the same.”

“It is enough.”

Emmy sighed.

“You can’t keep paying for everything.”

“I don’t.”

“You pay for almost everything.”

“You have a scholarship.”

“Exactly. So let me help more.”

David sat down across from them.

“You graduating is helping.”

Emmy opened her mouth.

David continued before she could argue.

“You spent years studying. Finish properly. Get your degree. Find work you actually want. Then you can help.”

Suzzy pointed at Emmy.

“See? I told you. There is no winning.”

David ate.

Suzzy looked at him.

“And after I graduate?”

“You go to college.”

“And if I work?”

“You can.”

Her eyebrows rose.

“Really?”

“As long as school comes first.”

Suzzy smiled smugly at Emmy.

“Favorite child.”

“You burned eggs.”

“Temporary setback.”

David shook his head.

Emmy looked at her older brother for a moment.

He wore a plain gray shirt. His hair was short, freshly trimmed the day before. A little stubble covered his jaw, carefully maintained instead of neglected. Years of manual labor had built his shoulders and arms without him ever stepping inside a gym.

He looked tired.

He often looked tired.

That bothered Emmy more than she admitted.

“Kuya.”

David looked up.

“What?”

“Don’t do overtime on your first day.”

“No promises.”

“David.”

He paused.

Emmy only used his name when she was serious.

Suzzy noticed too.

Emmy folded her arms.

“You’ve been doing side jobs all week.”

“I stopped yesterday.”

“Because the motorcycle owner canceled.”

“That still counts.”

“You need rest.”

David smiled slightly.

“You sound like Mama.”

The room became quiet.

Not painfully quiet.

Just different.

Their mother had been gone for years, but certain sentences could still bring her into the room.

Emmy lowered her eyes.

Suzzy pushed rice around her plate.

David regretted the comparison almost immediately.

Then Suzzy said quietly, “Mama would have told you the same thing.”

David looked at her.

“She would have hit you with a slipper first,” Emmy added.

Suzzy smiled.

“That too.”

David exhaled through his nose.

“Fine.”

Both girls looked up.

“No overtime unless needed.”

Emmy narrowed her eyes.

“That sounds suspicious.”

“It is the best offer you’re getting.”

She accepted it.

For now.

By 5:52 a.m., David was outside.

His motorcycle waited beneath the small covered area beside the house.

Old.

Black.

Reliable.

Like most things David owned, it was several years past the age when other people might have replaced it.

David had rebuilt parts of the engine himself.

He checked the tires.

Fuel.

Brakes.

Chain.

Then he placed his helmet on.

Behind him, the front door opened.

“Kuya!”

He turned.

Suzzy stood there holding a plastic container.

“You forgot this.”

David stared at it.

“Lunch.”

“I was going to buy.”

“No.”

“You burned breakfast.”

“This wasn’t cooked by me.”

David took the container.

“Emmy?”

“Yes.”

“Then it’s safe.”

Suzzy slapped his arm.

David smiled.

“Study.”

She pointed two fingers toward her eyes, then toward him.

“I am watching you.”

“From school?”

“I have methods.”

He climbed onto the motorcycle.

Suzzy stepped back.

“Good luck!”

David started the engine.

Then Emmy appeared behind Suzzy.

“Don’t get fired!”

David looked over his shoulder.

“Planning to avoid it.”

He drove away.

Neither sister knew how badly that plan would go.

Ferdinand Motor Corporation occupied an enormous complex near the commercial district.

The main headquarters rose behind a wide glass facade, sleek and modern, connected to several buildings housing engineering, sales, corporate offices, research, and executive administration.

Beside the main building sat a showroom filled with Ferdinand’s newest luxury and commercial vehicles.

Everything looked expensive.

Even the plants looked expensive.

David parked his motorcycle in the employee parking area and stared at the building.

He checked the address on his phone.

Then the building.

Then the address again.

“Right place.”

He removed his helmet.

A younger man in a blue maintenance uniform hurried past carrying a bucket.

The man stopped.

Walked backward.

Looked David up and down.

“You’re new.”

David nodded.

“Janitorial?”

“Yes.”

The man smiled widely.

“Excellent.”

David wasn’t sure why that was excellent.

“I am Joey.”

“David.”

“David.”

Joey held out his hand.

David shook it.

Joey had the energy of a man who had consumed several coffees before sunrise.

“Albert told me we were getting another guy. I prayed for someone normal.”

David looked at him.

Joey studied David’s face.

“Okay. Maybe too normal.”

David started walking toward the employee entrance.

Joey followed immediately.

“How old are you?”

David glanced at him.

“Forty.”

“Oh.”

“What?”

“You look younger.”

David stopped.

Joey quickly raised both hands.

“That was a compliment.”

“I know.”

“You have a very serious face.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“Are you always like this?”

“Yes.”

Joey grinned.

“This is going to be fun.”

“For who?”

“For me.”

David continued walking.

Joey followed.

“You ride motorcycles?”

David looked back toward the parking area.

“How did you know?”

“You are carrying a helmet.”

David looked at the helmet in his hand.

“Good observation.”

“Thank you.”

They entered through the employee entrance.

Joey pointed at various areas as they walked.

“Maintenance room downstairs. Supplies on levels one, three, six, and nine. Executive offices are mostly eight through ten. Don’t use the elevators with a leaking bucket. Security hates that. Don’t leave cleaning carts in front of fire doors. Don’t touch anything inside the design department unless specifically told.”

“Why?”

“They blame everything on everyone.”

David nodded.

“Important rule?”

“Very.”

Joey became unusually serious.

“And there is one more.”

David waited.

Joey leaned closer.

“Do not anger Ms. Ferdinand.”

“Who?”

Joey stopped walking.

“You don’t know Ms. Ferdinand?”

“Should I?”

“The CEO.”

David nodded once.

“Ah.”

Joey stared.

“That’s it?”

“What else?”

“I don’t know. Fear?”

“I haven’t met her.”

“You don’t need to meet a tiger to know not to poke it.”

David opened the door to the maintenance department.

Inside, several employees were preparing equipment.

A broad-shouldered man with graying hair looked up from a clipboard.

“David Reyes?”

“Yes, sir.”

The man approached.

“Albert Campos.”

David shook his hand.

“Good to meet you.”

Albert looked him over.

“Early.”

“Didn’t want to be late.”

“That’s a good start.”

Joey appeared behind David.

“I already explained the CEO rule.”

Albert sighed.

“Joey.”

“What?”

“You make her sound like a monster.”

Joey looked around.

“No one disagreed.”

A worker nearby raised one hand without looking away from his mop.

“I disagree internally.”

Albert pointed at Joey.

“Work.”

Joey saluted.

“Yes, boss.”

Albert turned to David.

“Uniform’s inside your locker. Number twenty-two. We’ll start with orientation, safety procedures, chemical handling, then assign you to the east wing.”

David nodded.

“Understood.”

Albert looked at his employment record.

“You’ve done cleaning before.”

“Hotels. Warehouse. Office buildings. Construction turnover.”

“Maintenance?”

“Some.”

“Electrical?”

“Basic.”

“Plumbing?”

“Basic.”

“Mechanical?”

“Enough.”

Albert lifted his eyebrows.

“Carpentry?”

“Enough.”

“Driving?”

“Yes.”

“Security?”

“Yes.”

“Kitchen work?”

David paused.

“Yes.”

Joey leaned over Albert’s shoulder.

“Do you also perform surgery?”

“No.”

“Good. Finally found something.”

Albert suppressed a smile.

David didn’t.

Barely.

But Joey saw it.

“There! He can smile.”

David walked toward the lockers.

“This may be a long year.”

“You already love me.”

“No.”

At 7:03 a.m., on the tenth floor of Ferdinand Motor Corporation, Judy Ferdinand was already angry.

This was not unusual.

“Why is this twelve percent over budget?”

Three department directors sat silently on the opposite side of the conference table.

Nobody volunteered.

Judy looked at each of them.

At five-foot-four, she was not physically imposing.

She compensated.

Heels added several inches.

A sharply tailored cream business suit added authority.

Her short pixie-cut hair framed a face that would have looked cute under almost any other circumstances.

Most employees never used the word cute.

Not where Judy could hear them.

She placed the report on the table.

“I asked a question.”

The finance director cleared his throat.

“There were additional supplier costs.”

“I can read.”

Silence.

“I want to know why we didn’t anticipate them.”

The operations director shifted.

“There were changes in—”

“Then why were the changes not reflected in the revision?”

No answer.

Judy leaned back.

“Maya.”

Her personal assistant looked up from her tablet.

“Yes, ma’am?”

“Schedule another review at four.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Everyone returns with corrected projections.”

The directors stood almost immediately.

“Thank you, Ms. Ferdinand.”

The door closed behind them.

Judy removed her glasses and rubbed the bridge of her nose.

Maya continued typing.

After several seconds, Judy looked at her.

“You could pretend to be sympathetic.”

“To whom?”

“Me.”

Maya considered this.

“No.”

Judy stared.

Maya finally looked up.

“You rejected the sympathy option in 2021.”

“I did not.”

“You said, and I quote, ‘If I require emotional support, I will purchase a dog.’”

Judy pointed at her.

“That sounds like me.”

“It does.”

Judy sighed and stood.

“What’s next?”

“Nine o’clock product review. Ten-thirty legal briefing. Lunch with the Korean distribution representatives. Two o’clock executive board call.”

Judy walked toward the window.

“And my mother?”

Maya checked the tablet.

“Mrs. Ferdinand called twice.”

Judy closed her eyes.

“Why?”

“She wants to know whether you’re attending dinner Sunday.”

“Tell her yes.”

“And whether you’re bringing anyone.”

Judy turned slowly.

“Maya.”

“I am repeating the message.”

“She knows I’m not.”

“She specifically said, ‘Tell my daughter that a man does not spontaneously materialize in her dining room. She must occasionally leave the office.’”

Judy stared at the city.

“My mother has too much free time.”

“She is retired.”

“That is the problem.”

Maya’s lips twitched.

Judy noticed.

“Don’t.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You were thinking loudly.”

Judy grabbed another folder.

“Let’s go.”

David’s first morning passed without incident.

Mostly.

He learned quickly.

Albert showed him the floor schedule.

Joey demonstrated which supply closet door jammed.

David fixed it.

A vacuum cleaner stopped working.

David opened the casing, removed a tangled piece of plastic, reset the belt, and returned it to Joey.

Joey stared at him.

“You’ve been here three hours.”

“Yes.”

“You have already repaired two things.”

“They were broken.”

“That isn’t normally enough motivation around here.”

David continued mopping.

A receptionist asked if someone could help move a filing cabinet.

David moved it.

A delivery worker dropped a box.

David helped collect the contents.

An elderly employee struggled with a jammed office window.

David fixed it.

At noon, Joey sat beside him in the employee cafeteria.

“You know what your problem is?”

David opened Emmy’s lunch container.

“I imagine you’re going to tell me.”

“You’re making the rest of us look bad.”

David took a bite.

Joey stared at the food.

“What is that?”

“Chicken adobo.”

“Did you make it?”

“My sister.”

“Married?”

David slowly looked at him.

“How old do you think my sister is?”

Joey reconsidered his life choices.

“Never mind.”

David ate.

Joey pointed at the container.

“Can I have some?”

“No.”

“Cold.”

“You have lunch.”

“I have instant noodles.”

“That sounds personal.”

Joey stared at David.

David finally pushed one piece of chicken toward him.

Joey smiled.

“I knew you loved me.”

“No.”

At 2:16 p.m., Judy Ferdinand stepped out of an executive meeting in a considerably worse mood than when she had entered.

Maya walked beside her.

“The supplier issue can be corrected.”

“I know.”

“The presentation went well.”

“I know.”

“The board approved the expansion.”

“I know.”

Maya looked at her.

“Then why do you look like you’re preparing to invade a small country?”

Judy adjusted the folder under her arm.

“Because someone scheduled three meetings that could have been emails.”

Maya said nothing.

Judy looked at her.

“You scheduled them.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“You requested them.”

Judy stopped.

Maya stopped too.

Judy considered this.

“Fine.”

They continued.

They were heading toward the executive showroom for a vehicle inspection when Judy’s phone rang.

She answered.

“Judy Ferdinand.”

A department manager began explaining a delay.

Judy listened while walking through the corridor.

David was cleaning the same hallway.

He had been assigned to polish the floor near the showroom entrance.

One section had become unusually dirty after several employees tracked rainwater inside.

David placed a yellow caution sign near the wet area.

He dipped the mop into the bucket.

Wrung it out.

Turned.

At exactly the wrong moment, Judy stepped around the corner.

David’s elbow struck the mop handle.

The mop spun.

The bucket shifted.

Dirty gray water lifted into the air.

For one extraordinary second, every droplet seemed suspended.

David saw the woman.

The woman saw the water.

Maya saw the future.

SPLASH.

Silence.

The phone remained pressed against Judy’s ear.

Water dripped from the hem of her expensive cream suit.

One shoe was soaked.

A dark gray stain spread across the side of her skirt.

David slowly looked at the mop.

Then at Judy.

Then at the bucket.

Maya turned her head away.

Not because she was shocked.

Because she was trying not to laugh.

Judy lowered the phone.

The manager on the other end continued speaking.

“Ms. Ferdinand? Hello?”

Judy ended the call.

David put the mop aside immediately.

“I’m sorry.”

Judy stared at him.

“Sorry?”

“Yes.”

“You just threw filthy water on me.”

“I noticed.”

Her eyes widened.

Maya closed her eyes.

David reached for clean towels.

“It was an accident.”

“Do you have any idea how much this suit costs?”

David looked at the stain.

Then at Judy.

“Probably more than my motorcycle.”

Maya made a small sound.

Judy looked at her.

Maya coughed.

David offered Judy a towel.

She stared at it as though he had offered her a dead animal.

“Do you think a towel fixes this?”

“No.”

“Then why are you holding it?”

“Because you’re wet.”

Maya turned away completely.

Judy stepped closer to David.

She had to tilt her head upward.

She hated that.

The man was tall.

Broad shoulders.

Maintenance uniform.

Clean-cut hair.

Slight stubble.

Calm face.

Too calm.

He should have looked terrified.

Everyone looked terrified when Judy Ferdinand was angry.

This man looked mildly inconvenienced.

“What is your name?”

“David Reyes.”

“How long have you worked here?”

“Since this morning.”

Judy stared at him.

“This morning?”

“Yes.”

“You’ve been here less than one day.”

“Yes.”

“And you already assaulted someone with a mop.”

David’s eyebrows moved slightly.

“I wouldn’t call it assault.”

“What would you call it?”

“Bad timing.”

Maya covered her mouth.

Judy snapped her head toward her.

“Are you laughing?”

“No.”

“You are.”

“I breathed incorrectly.”

David looked from one woman to the other.

Something about the shorter woman’s attitude irritated him.

He knew he was at fault.

He had apologized.

He would help clean the suit if possible.

But he disliked people who treated accidents as moral failures.

“I can pay for cleaning.”

Judy looked back at him.

“Cleaning?”

“Yes.”

“You think dry cleaning is the issue?”

“What is the issue?”

“The issue is competence.”

David became still.

“I made one mistake.”

“On your first day.”

“Yes.”

“That isn’t reassuring.”

David took a slow breath.

“You’re right.”

Judy paused.

She had not expected that.

“I should have been more careful,” he continued. “I wasn’t. I apologize.”

For the first time, his tone carried no humor.

No sarcasm.

Just responsibility.

Judy’s anger decreased by perhaps two percent.

Then David added, “But if you’re expecting me to beg because your clothes are expensive, that’s not happening.”

The two percent returned.

“What did you say?”

“You heard me.”

Maya stared at David now.

Not laughing anymore.

Mostly impressed.

Judy took another step forward.

“Do you know who you’re talking to?”

David looked at her clothes.

The folder.

The heels.

Maya.

He guessed senior management.

Possibly department head.

“I assume someone important.”

Maya almost lost the battle again.

Judy’s expression hardened.

“You assume.”

“Yes.”

“And that changes nothing?”

“You got wet because of my mistake. I apologized. Your job title doesn’t change what happened.”

For perhaps the first time in months, Judy Ferdinand did not know what to say immediately.

Most employees recognized her on sight.

Those who didn’t usually realized within seconds that she outranked them.

David didn’t seem to care.

Not disrespectfully.

He simply seemed genuinely unmoved by status.

Judy hated that she found this interesting.

“What’s your department?”

“Facilities.”

“Manager?”

“Albert Campos.”

Judy turned.

“Maya.”

“Yes?”

“Get Mr. Campos.”

David looked between them.

Something was wrong.

Very wrong.

Maya nodded calmly.

“Of course.”

Judy looked at David.

“Don’t move.”

David glanced at the floor.

“I still need to finish mopping.”

Judy stared at him.

“Don’t.”

“It’s a wet floor.”

“I can see that.”

“You nearly stepped into it.”

Judy’s eyes narrowed.

David reached for the caution sign and moved it slightly closer to her.

“Safety.”

Maya walked away before she embarrassed herself.

Five minutes later, Albert appeared.

Joey was behind him.

Joey had no official reason to be there.

Curiosity was enough.

Albert saw Judy.

Then David.

Then the wet suit.

Then the mop.

His face changed.

“Ms. Ferdinand.”

David froze.

Joey closed his eyes.

Albert continued.

“I was told there was an incident.”

David looked at Judy.

Judy looked at David.

David slowly turned toward Joey.

Joey mouthed silently:

CEO.

David looked back at Judy.

“Oh.”

Judy crossed her arms.

David nodded once.

“So you’re Ms. Ferdinand.”

“Yes.”

“The CEO.”

“Yes.”

David looked at the mop.

Then at the ceiling.

Then back at Judy.

“That explains some things.”

Judy’s eyebrows rose.

“What exactly does that explain?”

“His face.”

David pointed toward Albert.

Albert looked like he wanted the floor to swallow him.

Joey made a choking sound.

Judy stared at David.

“You truly did not know who I was.”

“No.”

“Everyone knows who I am.”

“I started this morning.”

“There are photographs in the lobby.”

“I was reading safety instructions.”

Maya had returned and stood near the wall.

She made a note on her tablet.

Judy noticed.

“What are you writing?”

“Nothing important.”

“Show me.”

“No.”

Judy’s attention returned to David.

Albert cleared his throat.

“Ms. Ferdinand, David is new. If there was negligence—”

“There was.”

David nodded.

“There was.”

Albert glanced at him.

David shrugged slightly.

“I hit the mop.”

Judy stared at him again.

He was admitting fault.

Without excuses.

That was inconvenient.

She preferred employees who made excuses.

Excuses were easier to attack.

Albert spoke carefully.

“I’ll make sure the incident is documented.”

Judy looked at David.

“Documented?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She wanted something stronger.

A warning.

A penalty.

Preferably dismissal.

But there were procedures.

Judy knew the procedures.

She had approved most of them herself.

Still, anger spoke first.

“I want him removed.”

Everyone became quiet.

David’s face did not change.

Albert hesitated.

“Removed from this floor?”

“From the company.”

Joey’s mouth fell open.

Maya looked at Judy.

David finally spoke.

“You want me fired?”

“Yes.”

“For getting your clothes wet?”

“For incompetence.”

David’s jaw tightened.

He had accepted responsibility.

But this felt different.

He had spent years working unstable jobs.

He had finally secured something permanent.

He had sisters depending on him.

And now one accident might destroy that before the first day even ended.

He looked at Albert.

“Sir, I understand a warning. I’ll pay for the cleaning. But I need this job.”

His voice remained calm.

That somehow made the sentence heavier.

Judy heard it.

For the first time, she noticed something behind his composure.

Not fear exactly.

Responsibility.

Still, she was angry.

“Everyone needs their job.”

David met her gaze.

“Some more than others.”

Judy’s expression changed slightly.

Before she could answer, Maya stepped closer.

“Ms. Ferdinand.”

“What?”

“There may be a problem.”

“With what?”

“Termination.”

Judy looked at her.

“What problem?”

Maya glanced at David, then Albert.

“HR will have to review it.”

“Why?”

“New-hire protection policy.”

Judy frowned.

“What policy?”

Maya said nothing.

Judy’s eyes narrowed.

“What policy, Maya?”

“The one-year dismissal restriction.”

Albert suddenly looked interested.

Joey looked delighted.

David looked confused.

Judy stared.

“That doesn’t apply here.”

Maya’s expression remained neutral.

“It may.”

“I approved that policy for arbitrary dismissal protection.”

“Yes.”

“This is not arbitrary.”

Maya looked at the wet suit.

Then at David.

Then back at Judy.

“I suspect HR may disagree.”

Judy’s face became dangerously calm.

“Call HR.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Now.”

Maya nodded.

Joey slowly leaned toward David.

“You may have just discovered immortality.”

David looked at him.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

Albert gave Joey a warning look.

Judy pointed at David.

“You.”

David waited.

“This isn’t over.”

He looked down at the wet floor.

“I assumed not.”

Judy turned and walked away.

Her heel slipped half an inch on the wet tile.

David instinctively reached forward and caught her elbow.

Judy froze.

So did everyone else.

David steadied her.

“You okay?”

Judy looked at his hand on her arm.

David released her immediately.

“Sorry.”

Judy’s cheeks warmed.

Anger, she decided.

Definitely anger.

She walked away more carefully.

Maya followed.

Joey watched them disappear around the corner.

Then he turned slowly toward David.

“You touched the CEO.”

David picked up the mop.

“She slipped.”

“You splashed the CEO.”

“Yes.”

“Argued with the CEO.”

“Yes.”

“Asked the CEO if she was okay.”

“Yes.”

“On your first day.”

David resumed mopping.

“Yes.”

Joey stared at Albert.

“I’ve been here one year and my career suddenly feels very boring.”

Albert rubbed his forehead.

“Both of you. Back to work.”

Joey followed David.

“David.”

“What?”

“I think we’re going to be best friends.”

“No.”

Inside the executive elevator, Judy stood in silence.

Her suit was still damp.

Maya stood beside her.

Neither spoke.

The elevator doors closed.

Judy looked at Maya.

“He is rude.”

Maya nodded.

“Yes.”

“Arrogant.”

“Possibly.”

“Incompetent.”

Maya hesitated.

Judy looked at her.

“What?”

“Facilities reports say he repaired two pieces of equipment this morning.”

Judy stared.

“That’s irrelevant.”

“He also received positive feedback from reception and delivery.”

“Still irrelevant.”

“And Mr. Campos’ preliminary assessment says his work quality is excellent.”

Judy folded her arms.

“He threw mop water on the CEO.”

“Accidentally.”

“Maya.”

“Yes?”

“Whose side are you on?”

“The company’s.”

“That is not the correct answer.”

“It is professionally the safest answer.”

Judy stared straight ahead.

After several seconds, Maya spoke again.

“He didn’t know who you were.”

“I know.”

“He apologized before he knew.”

“I know.”

“And after he found out, his behavior barely changed.”

Judy looked at her.

“What are you implying?”

“Nothing.”

“You are always implying something.”

Maya smiled faintly.

The elevator doors opened.

Judy stepped out.

“Find out everything about that policy.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And Reyes.”

Maya stopped.

Judy took three more steps before realizing her assistant was no longer beside her.

She turned.

“What?”

“You want me to investigate Mr. Reyes?”

Judy frowned.

“No.”

Maya waited.

Judy considered.

“Just his employment record.”

“Of course.”

“Performance history.”

“Of course.”

“Previous employers.”

Maya’s eyebrows rose slightly.

“Anything else?”

Judy thought of David’s calm face.

His irritating answers.

His hand catching her before she fell.

The way he had said:

I need this job.

She hated curiosity.

It wasted time.

“That’s all.”

Maya followed.

“Certainly.”

Judy walked faster.

“And stop smiling.”

“I wasn’t.”

“You were thinking about it.”

At 5:11 p.m., David changed out of his work shoes.

Joey leaned against the lockers.

“You survived.”

“Apparently.”

“For now.”

David closed the locker.

Albert approached.

“HR hasn’t made a decision.”

David looked at him.

“I understand.”

“But I don’t think you’re going anywhere tonight.”

David nodded.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me. Just be careful tomorrow.”

“I will.”

Albert studied him.

“David.”

“Yes, sir?”

“You handled yourself well.”

David wasn’t sure he agreed.

“I argued with the CEO.”

“You argued respectfully.”

“Still argued.”

Albert smiled slightly.

“Sometimes that’s not the worst thing.”

David picked up his helmet.

“Does she fire people often?”

Albert laughed.

“No.”

“That isn’t reassuring.”

“She expects a lot.”

“I noticed.”

“She’s difficult.”

Joey appeared.

“Terrifying.”

Albert ignored him.

“But she’s fair.”

David looked toward the hallway Judy had disappeared into earlier.

“Fair?”

Albert smiled.

“Usually.”

David arrived home after sunset.

The front door opened before he could unlock it.

Suzzy stood there.

“Well?”

David removed his shoes.

“Well what?”

“First day.”

“Fine.”

Emmy appeared from the kitchen.

“You still have a job?”

David paused.

Suzzy’s eyes narrowed.

Emmy stopped walking.

“Kuya.”

David walked inside.

“Technically.”

Both girls stared.

Suzzy closed the door.

“What did you do?”

“Nothing serious.”

“What did you do?”

David placed his helmet on the table.

“I spilled something.”

Emmy relaxed slightly.

“Oh.”

“On someone.”

Suzzy narrowed her eyes further.

“What?”

“Mop water.”

Emmy covered her mouth.

Suzzy stared.

“On who?”

David opened the refrigerator.

“The CEO.”

Silence.

He took out a bottle of water.

He turned around.

Both sisters were still staring.

Suzzy finally said, “You mopped your CEO?”

“Accidentally.”

Emmy sat down.

“Your first day?”

“Yes.”

Suzzy began laughing.

David drank water.

“This isn’t funny.”

That made her laugh harder.

Emmy tried to stay serious.

“Is she angry?”

“Yes.”

“How angry?”

“She tried to fire me.”

Emmy’s smile disappeared.

“What?”

David leaned against the counter.

“There is apparently a policy.”

“What policy?”

“New employees can’t be fired easily during the first year without serious cause.”

Suzzy stopped laughing.

“So you’re safe?”

“For now.”

Emmy looked worried.

“Kuya, maybe you should look for another job.”

“No.”

“But if the CEO hates you—”

“I just started.”

“What if she makes things difficult?”

David was silent.

He knew Emmy’s concern was reasonable.

But stability mattered.

The job mattered.

He would not walk away because someone disliked him.

“I’ll do my work.”

Suzzy looked at him.

“And if she bullies you?”

David raised an eyebrow.

Suzzy crossed her arms.

“I am serious.”

“She is the CEO.”

“I don’t care.”

“You should.”

“I’ll go there.”

“No.”

“I’ll tell her—”

“No.”

“She can’t treat my brother—”

David placed one hand on Suzzy’s head.

She glared upward.

“Don’t.”

He gently pushed her toward the dining table.

“Homework.”

“Kuya!”

“Homework.”

Emmy smiled.

Suzzy pointed at him.

“This conversation isn’t over.”

“Unfortunately.”

Later that night, David sat outside beside his motorcycle.

The neighborhood had become quiet.

He held a small wrench in one hand and adjusted the side mirror.

He didn’t really need to fix anything.

Sometimes working with his hands helped him think.

The CEO.

Judy Ferdinand.

He had heard the name before.

Everyone had.

The Ferdinand family was well-known.

David simply had never paid attention to photographs in business articles.

He replayed the afternoon.

Dirty water.

Her expression.

His answers.

He sighed.

“Idiot.”

He should have been more careful.

Not because she was CEO.

Because it was his job.

He hated mistakes.

Especially expensive ones.

He looked toward the window.

Inside, Emmy studied at the table while Suzzy pretended to study and checked her phone every thirty seconds.

David needed the job.

That was the truth.

Not for himself.

For them.

One more year and Emmy would graduate.

A few months later, Suzzy would enter college.

Tuition.

Transportation.

Books.

Uniforms.

Food.

He had calculations running constantly in his head.

A permanent salary meant predictability.

Predictability meant breathing room.

He would not lose that because of pride.

Tomorrow, if Judy Ferdinand wanted another apology, he would give one.

If she wanted repayment for cleaning, he would pay.

But he would not beg.

David had spent too many years crawling through difficult circumstances.

He had learned the difference between humility and humiliation.

Across the city, Judy Ferdinand sat inside her home office.

A laptop glowed in front of her.

She should have been reviewing financial projections.

Instead, a personnel file filled the screen.

DAVID REYES.

Age: 40.

Position: Facilities Maintenance — Janitorial Staff.

Employment status: Permanent.

Previous work history filled several lines.

Warehouse assistant.

Delivery rider.

Security guard.

Automotive helper.

Construction worker.

Driver.

Hotel maintenance support.

Restaurant utility staff.

Independent repair work.

Judy frowned.

“That is ridiculous.”

Maya’s voice came through the speakerphone.

“What is?”

“How many jobs has this man had?”

“A considerable number.”

“He never stayed anywhere long.”

“Many were contractual.”

Judy scrolled.

“No disciplinary records.”

“None we found.”

“No criminal record.”

“None.”

“Positive references.”

“Yes.”

Judy leaned back.

“This doesn’t make sense.”

“What doesn’t?”

“He’s forty.”

“Yes.”

“He has this much experience and he’s applying as a janitor.”

Maya paused.

“Perhaps he needed stable employment.”

Judy remembered his words.

I need this job.

She disliked that the sentence returned so easily.

She clicked another document.

Emergency contact information.

Two names.

Emmy Reyes.

Suzzy Reyes.

Relationship: Sisters.

Judy looked at the ages.

Twenty.

Sixteen.

She frowned.

“Why are his sisters his emergency contacts?”

Maya didn’t answer immediately.

“Would you like me to look further?”

Judy’s fingers stopped on the keyboard.

This had already gone beyond reasonable employment review.

She knew that.

She should close the file.

Forget the man.

Let HR handle the incident.

Instead, Judy looked again at his photograph.

Serious expression.

Short hair.

A little stubble.

Annoyingly calm eyes.

She closed the laptop.

“No.”

A pause.

Then—

“Not yet.”

On the other end, Maya smiled.

Judy could somehow hear it.

“Good night, Ms. Ferdinand.”

“Maya.”

“Yes?”

“Don’t make this weird.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You don’t need to.”

The call ended.

Judy remained seated.

She looked down at the cream suit hanging over the back of a chair.

The stain had mostly come out.

Mostly.

She should have been furious.

She was furious.

Probably.

Yet the thing bothering her most was not the ruined afternoon.

It was one question.

Why had David Reyes looked at her exactly the same way before and after discovering she was CEO?

Judy leaned back.

“This man is going to be a problem.”

The next morning, at 6:41 a.m., David entered Ferdinand Motor Corporation carrying his lunchbox.

Joey spotted him immediately.

“You came back.”

David looked at him.

“I work here.”

“For now.”

David sighed.

Joey followed.

“I heard Ms. Ferdinand had an emergency meeting with HR.”

David stopped.

“That sounds bad.”

“Yes.”

Joey grinned.

“But I also heard legal was involved.”

“That sounds worse.”

“Maybe.”

David continued walking.

Then he noticed something.

At the end of the corridor, Judy Ferdinand stood speaking with Maya.

She wore a dark navy suit today.

No cream.

Probably wise.

Judy looked up.

Their eyes met.

Neither moved.

Joey whispered, “This feels dangerous.”

David ignored him.

Judy ended her conversation with Maya and started walking toward them.

Her heels clicked against the polished floor.

CLICK.

CLICK.

CLICK.

David stood still.

Judy stopped directly in front of him.

“Mr. Reyes.”

“Ms. Ferdinand.”

Joey slowly moved away.

Coward.

Judy studied David’s uniform.

Then the cleaning cart.

Then him.

“You’re early.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“My shift starts at seven.”

“It is six forty-three.”

“I prefer being early.”

Judy looked annoyed by the answer.

David waited.

She clearly wanted to say something.

Finally, she spoke.

“HR will contact you later today.”

David nodded.

“Understood.”

“Until then, continue your assigned duties.”

“I planned to.”

Judy’s eyes narrowed.

David realized how that sounded.

He added, “Ma’am.”

That somehow made it worse.

Maya stared at the floor.

Judy turned to leave.

David spoke.

“Ms. Ferdinand.”

She stopped.

He reached into a small plastic bag attached to his cart.

“I had this cleaned.”

He held out a folded handkerchief.

Judy looked confused.

Then she remembered.

The expensive silk handkerchief she had used after the mop incident.

She had thrown it onto the cleaning cart in frustration.

David had washed and pressed it.

Perfectly.

Judy took it.

“You didn’t have to do this.”

“It was dirty because of me.”

She examined it.

“You ironed this?”

“Yes.”

“You know how to iron silk?”

David shrugged.

“I have sisters.”

Judy looked at him.

For one second, something in her expression softened.

Then it disappeared.

“I see.”

She walked away.

Maya followed her.

After several steps, Maya glanced at Judy.

“You’re smiling.”

“I am not.”

“You were.”

“It was facial tension.”

“Of course.”

Judy put the handkerchief into her bag.

Behind them, Joey rushed back to David.

“What happened?”

“Nothing.”

“She didn’t kill you.”

“No.”

“She accepted something from you.”

“A handkerchief.”

Joey’s eyes widened.

“Gift?”

“No.”

“Romantic token?”

David stared at him.

“It had mop water on it.”

Joey nodded thoughtfully.

“Every love story starts somewhere.”

David pushed the cleaning cart forward.

“You need more work.”

“I have work.”

“Then do it.”

Joey followed.

At the far end of the corridor, Judy glanced back once.

She saw David helping another employee move a heavy box.

He did it without being asked.

Without looking around to see who noticed.

Judy frowned.

Curiosity, she decided, was becoming inconvenient.

And somewhere deep inside Ferdinand Motor Corporation, without either of them realizing it yet, an expensive ruined suit, a stubborn company policy, and one badly timed mop had just changed two lives.

END OF CHAPTER 1