CHAPTER 3. A Possible Ally

But if Zack thought something was wrong with the company, his instincts went on high alert when he went down to the parking lot and saw the woman leaning against one of the walls. She was trying to change from high heels to low sneakers, but her hands were shaking.

He was tempted to go talk to her, but something in him still resisted getting involved in other people's problems. He had a new company to run; if he wanted Andrea to feel better, he just had to fix his company, not the woman's personal life.

Finally, he saw her adjust her coat and step out into the cold street.

He watched from a distance and saw she didn't take a taxi or a bus, so she probably lived nearby. He had no idea how wrong he was because Andrea didn't live remotely close; she simply couldn't afford any form of transportation.

For forty minutes, the young woman walked through the cold of a Canadian winter, and by the time she finally reached her building, it was almost dark.

"Good evening, Mrs. Wilson," she greeted kindly the nearly seventy-year-old lady who took care of her daughter. "How was your day? How did my little princess behave?"

Andrea lifted her daughter into her arms and showered her with kisses, hugging her as if only that could ease all the pain in her heart.

"Everything went well, dear," Mrs. Wilson said. "Adriana is a very good girl and has behaved like an angel. It's just that... you know... we are hungry at this hour."

Andrea smiled gently. "Don't worry, Mrs. Wilson, I'll make dinner right away."

Margaret Wilson was also a kind of angel. She had no family and lived off her pension, but there were already many things she didn't have the strength for. She lived next door, and when Andrea was left alone, she had been the only one to help her. Now, she took care of little Adriana during the day in exchange for Andrea helping with all the housework, so as soon as she got home from work, Andrea took care of everything: cleaning, cooking, washing, running errands...

So Andrea started making dinner while her daughter kicked the air at hearing her sing. She didn't have many reasons to do it, but Andrea didn't want Adriana to forget her voice for spending so much time without her.

Soon, the small apartment was filled with the smell of a stew made with a lot of love but little meat. After eating, she said goodbye to Mrs. Wilson and took her daughter to their small apartment. The rent had been paid for a year, so she still had a couple of months left to figure out where they would live next.

She gave her daughter a warm bath and sang to her and rocked her, trying to convey anything but the sadness that gripped her soul. As soon as Adriana fell asleep, she laid her in her bassinet on the only mattress she had. It had been given to her by the nearby church, but she had no bed to put it on, so it was on the floor. She knew it wasn't even a comfortable home, but at least she could provide warmth and a roof for her and her daughter.

She reviewed the bills and tried to hold back tears, seeing that she wouldn't make it to the end of the month. Between the monthly hospital bill and the expenses for the baby and the house, she barely had any money left.

"I can't sacrifice electricity or heating..." she murmured. "And certainly not Adriana's formula and diapers... Oh God, what am I going to do...?!"

For a long minute, anguish overwhelmed her, and she allowed herself to cry, but then she made the decision that seemed most logical: she had to buy less food for herself. There was coffee and pastries at the office... she could eat that.

The next day, she made her walk back to the company, but she couldn't even take her first sip of coffee because as soon as Trembley got off the elevator, he started yelling at her.

"Didn't I tell you to deliver the reports from last month!?" he berated her, and Andrea almost dropped her cup because she had handed them in the day before, and he had thrown them in her face. "Don't look at me like that, or I'll believe you're even more of an idiot than you already are, Andrea!"

She froze but forced herself to look up at Trembley.

"Sir," she said in a trembling voice, "I already delivered those documents yesterday. If there's a problem, don't blame my work, you were the one who told me you wanted this month's!"

"Well, now I want them again!" Trembley didn't want to hear anything. "So to make sure you don't mess up anymore, today you pull all the reports for the year, from all divisions, and that's that!"

"But... pulling all the reports will take me all night..." she started to say, but Trembley had already turned on his shoes to leave.

"Well, that's your problem, Andrea. You stay after hours, and if you can't do your job, then you'll have to fix it somehow... or start cleaning your desk so someone else can come."

Andrea nodded in silence, though her heart was breaking at the thought of having to stay late. For one, if she got home late, she couldn't spend as much time with her daughter as she wanted, but the most annoying part was that she knew why her boss wanted her to stay.

For a long second, she clenched her fists and held back tears, telling herself she couldn't afford to lose that job, and as soon as Trembley disappeared into his office, she grabbed the laptop and ran to the copy room. There were seven printers there; if she hurried, she might be able to finish before the end of the workday.

She didn't even realize that sharp eyes were watching the scene. Eyes that saw her running around all day and especially noticed that she had everything needed to be a good ally.

Zack had spent the entire day reviewing the athletes' representation contracts, but that wasn't enough; he had to dig deeper, and for that, he needed special access, access that Andrea had.

It was already past noon when he headed to the copy room, but the first thing he saw was a woman staggering and trying to reach the floor without falling.

"Andrea!" he exclaimed as he wrapped an arm around her waist to support her, seeing her react nervously.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" she murmured, trying to grab one of the printers to support herself.

"You're fainting; there's no need to apologize," he stated in a deep voice. "Are you okay?"

She pressed her lips together and nodded.

"Yes... my sugar must have dropped..." she lied. "It'll pass with a coffee..."

But as if her body wanted to contradict that statement, her stomach growled loudly, making her look at it in horror.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry... this is completely inappropriate..."

"That's for sure," he replied, and Andrea paled. "Being hungry is the most inappropriate thing in the world. You should hear how I get when I'm hungry."

And although there wasn't a hint of a smile on his face, Andrea felt like it was some kind of... empathy?

"You know what? I don't know anyone here. How about I take you out to eat and you explain a bit how this place works? Because I've been a sports agent for a few years now, and I swear I don't understand this company!"

Andrea hesitated, looking at all the work she had, but she was also very hungry.

"Okay... thank you."

Zack opened the door for her, and soon after, they were sitting in the cafeteria. Andrea tried to eat slowly, but luckily the man in front of her didn't seem particularly delicate, so they both ended up eating those burgers like bears after hibernation.

Suddenly, Andrea's phone started ringing, and she excused herself, moving a little away, but Zack could still hear what she was talking about.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Wilson... can you wait for me until seven today?" the young woman pleaded. "It's just that my boss wants me to stay later... I know... I'm very sorry, but I promise I'll make you the best dinner... Yes... Thank you, Mrs. Wilson, I have no way to repay you..."

Andrea hung up, and Zack didn't miss the way she swallowed hard. The lunch ended with a lot of gratitude from Andrea and a lot of curiosity from Zack, which made him stay when the clock struck five in the afternoon.

While everyone was leaving, Andrea was still toiling in the copy room, trying to pull every report generated in the last year. It was complete madness, but when she felt the door to the room open, she had no doubt why Trembley had asked her to do it.

The man advanced towards her, and Andrea made an involuntary gesture to move away.

"Well, aren't you a hardworking little thing, Andrea?!" Trembley said with a mocking smile. "If only you were as diligent in everything else!"

Andrea felt a shiver run down her spine.

"I don't understand..." she murmured, trying to move away even more.

"Come on, don't be shy," he said, approaching. "I'm sure all this effort you put into your work might work better if you applied it in a more ... intimate area".

Andrea felt her breath quicken and her heart race faster. She swallowed and tried to stay strong.

"I don't know what you mean," she said in a cold tone, leaning against the wall.

"Don't you?" he asked, grabbing her chin between his fingers. "I think you do. In fact, I think you could give your career a real boost if only you were willing!"

Trembley got even closer, locking eyes with her and placing his hand on her shoulder, moving it in a subtly sexual manner.

"I think you're mistaken, Mr. Trembley. I'm very content with the job I have... I don't need anything more..."

"I don't believe that," the man said with a cynical smile. "Why resist? I can help you improve your situation."

"I told you I don't want..."

Andrea felt him grab her arm tightly and looked desperately towards the open door, thinking about the possibility of escaping. But when the old man's grip tightened, that imposing figure stood against the light from the entrance.

"Andrea? Where do I leave these reports?" hissed Zack's cold, deep voice, and Trembley turned, furious, to see the newcomer interrupting him for the second time.

"What the hell are you still doing here?!" Trembley spat, and Zack glanced at the hand gripping the woman's arm.

"Me? I'm waiting for Andrea to take her home," he stated. "And you?"