“... And then she orders a bottle of Ivory Valley rosé for herself.”

“Oh my god,” Bailey said, her tone a blend of disbelief and delight at the drama of it all. “And you know she just got that because it's expensive.”

“Right?! Like, let's be real, no one actually likes Ivory Valley,” Bailey smiled. Elle's rants were always a highlight of their get-togethers. “It's just for people who want to look sophisticated. And she's like, 'Oh, I just can't help it, I have refined tastes. I can't enjoy that cheaper stuff.'” She scrunched up her face, pulling her mouth into a tight, sneering smile. It was a spot-on impression, clearly perfected from suffering under its condescending gaze too many times. Even Bailey, from the little she'd ever seen of her friend's colleague, recognized it immediately: the same face she'd made when smugly, subtly demeaning Bailey over her 'secretary job'.

“The irony.”

“I know! Oh, you wanna know the real irony Bay? Right after she said that, she asked the waiter for ice cubes.”

“Hah! So refined.”

“God, she's just the worst. I thought she couldn't get any more annoying.” Elle took a generous sip of wine. Bailey grinned, gently leaning her head onto the fingertips of her free hand.

“I've missed these talks.”

“Me too! But I feel for you, it sounds like you've been so busy lately. You must have so many good stories saved up for me. Speaking of which... you haven't told me what happened at that fancy evening with your boss.”

“Oh, it wasn't so bad,” Bailey said. Elle gave her a doubtful frown.

“You sure? You seemed a little shaken up when you were messaging me.”

“It was just--... It's complicated.” Bailey sighed. “I got reprimanded – well, a little worse than reprimanded – but it was just a misunderstanding. Mr Ito apologized for it shortly after.”

“Tch - 'Mr Ito?'” Elle scoffed. “You know he can't hear you, right? You can just call him by his actual name.”

“Oh quiet. It's just good habit.” Elle shrugged playfully.

“So what happened?”

“Well, he thought I was... let's say, accusing him of something. He got a little angry, and well... He fired me.” Elle's eyes widened as she gasped.

“He what?!”

“Yeah. But only for an hour or so.”

“Why?!”

“I can't really say much – confidentiality and all – but basically, I got in the middle of him and his godfather... Mr Sokolov.”

Elle's eyebrows rose just a touch in surprise. “Sokolov? You mean... Yegor Sokolov?” Bailey nodded.

“Now that guy – he's a real asshole. Worse than Vera, even. He's so scary. Mr Ito's terrified of him.”

“Why's he scared if he's a Yaobudo champion?”

“I mean, he's a lightweight champion. Mr Sokolov was a heavyweight champion. He's huge. And I get the feeling he's no stranger to putting all that training to bad use behind the scenes.”

“So what did he do that night? Did he do something to your boss?”

“Nothing like that, thank god. Long story short... He thought there was something between Mr Ito and me.” Bailey muttered softly. Even sharing it with her best friend brought a hot flush of shame to her cheeks. Elle just smirked; Bailey knew this would be her kind of gossip.

“Go on...”

“It was so embarrassing. And I had to just sort of... go with it.”

“What?! No way. Why? How?”

“I can't really say much more – I've told you way too much already – but trust me, it was the easiest thing to do to keep us both out of trouble. Like that wasn't bad enough, Mr Sokolov had the gall to tell Mr Ito – and I quote – 'she's a little old for you, isn't she?' Right in front of me. He called me old!”

“Oh my god, Bailey! What a bastard.”

“I know. ”

“What did you do? Please tell me you said something.”

“Of course I didn't! What could I say? He's my employer's godfather, I'd only get myself into more trouble.” Bailey slumped in her seat. “I just had to accept it.”

Elle leant forward. “So, like... Is there something between you two?” Bailey snorted into her wine.

“Mr Ito?? Oh-- no. God no, there's nothing like that. It's purely a professional relationship,” She said, waving her hand dismissively. “Besides, he's a great boss, but he's definitely not the kind of guy I'd be interested in. Too young, too short, too...” Closeted. She tilted her head. “... Not my type.”

“How short?”

“Five-foot ten, maybe.”

“Oh,” Elle said with a sigh. “He looked taller than that on TV.”

“I already told you, he's in the lightweight division, girl. They're all under 6 feet there. Besides – and no offense, really – I don't think you're his type either.”

“You don't know that.”

“... I'm pretty sure.” Bailey shrugged and sipped her wine.

“So come on, what did he fire you for?”

Bailey angled her head back and forth, looking for any sliver she could offer Elle without giving up that little secret. “Well... Let's just say, he was doing something else at the time, and that fake affair was a convenient cover for that. But Mr Ito didn't take it too well when he figured out I might know what he was really doing.”

Elle tutted. “That's so unfair. He sounds like such an ass. I don't know why you'd want to work for him.”

“Oh, he's far from the worst boss I've had. Remember Mr Hampton?” She shuddered. “Ugh. Creep. Besides, unlimited PTO, generous bonuses, pay far above market rate... Sure, he's a bit moody, but he's still the best boss I've ever had.”

“A bit moody? You saved his ass and he fired you for it.” She slouched into the soft pile of cushions. “I wish you'd tell me exactly what happened.”

“Not a chance.”

“Oh come on! It's not like he can hear you.” Bailey rolled her eyes.

“It's called professionalism. I'm not going to air out my boss' dirty laundry any more than I already have. Besides--” There was a thrumming in her pocket. She slipped the phone into her hand and glanced at the screen. Speak of the devil. Bailey frowned; it wasn't like him to call after hours without messaging her first, especially so late.

“Sorry, Elle, I need to take this.” Elle nodded and leant back; she was used to Bailey's busy schedule and the many inconvenient interruptions that came with it. Bailey held her phone to her ear. “Good evening, Mr Ito,” She said with a deliberate smoothness, hoping to conceal the three glasses of wine in her system.

“Mr Ito,” Elle parroted under her breath, exaggerating Bailey's affected tone. Bailey rolled her eyes and nudged her with her foot.

“... Bailey?” Mr Ito spoke quietly, apprehensively. “I just--... I don't know.” Something was off. There was the slightest falter in his voice, just a brief waver that tripped the rhythm of his words, normally so perfectly calculated. “... I don't know what to do.”

She could already feel it. She knew. It was about him. Perhaps they hadn't reconciled after all.

“Is everything alright, sir?”

He was quiet for a moment, save for the soft sounds of breathing. Though she'd never heard it from him before, that pattern of troubled sniffs and sighs was unmistakable. The weakness in his voice. The slight tremble.

She pushed herself off the sofa and hurried into her bedroom, pulling the door closed behind her. This was going to be a tough one to navigate.

“Sir,” She started slowly. “Has something happened?” He was quiet again.

“... He's leaving.”

“Who?” The question was unnecessary, a mere formality to protect his ego.

“Yuanfei. He got offered some kind of contract. He's leaving tomorrow. He's going--... god, I don't even know where. Chicago, then New York, then... god knows where. He's gone.” He was normally good at masking the clues that he'd been drinking, but a telltale slur to his words gave him away this time. Either he was far beyond his limits, or he was beyond caring.

“I'm sorry, sir.”

“I just... I don't know what to do.”

This required surgical precision. One small miscalculation, and she'd be out of a job for good this time. It would be easy to play dumb, to keep a professional distance - and most certainly the smarter thing to do - but she couldn't bring herself to do it. She couldn't deny it; there was a small twinge of empathy for what was clearly that all-too-familiar pain of heartbreak. He didn't seem to be taking it well. In the grand scheme of things, he was still relatively young, still figuring out how to navigate the hardships of relationships - and from what she could glean of his life, while he'd been blessed with far more luxuries than most would ever have, emotional support was not one of them. This call was an act of desperation.

“... Whatever it is you might want to say,” She began cautiously. “I think now would be the right time to tell him.”

“What's the point? Guilt him into staying? Beg him? Why would I do that when I--... when all I've done is give him reasons to leave?”

“I'm sure that's not true. He seems like a very understanding person. I think he'd appreciate hearing what you really think. Mr Ito huffed cynically.

“I don't have anything good to tell him.”

“Well... In that case, if you're sure it would be better to leave your thoughts unsaid, then... Perhaps the best thing to do is just try to be supportive of his decision. Be there for him while you can.”

He was quiet again. Another soft exhale, tears held back. “You're right,” He said weakly. “... He deserves that.” 

Her stomach twisted. “... Mr Ito--”

“I'm sorry, Bailey. I shouldn't have called.” In that brief moment, he seemed to have taken back control of his usual stoic facade. One last heavy sigh, and the quiver in his voice was completely gone. “Forget I said anything.”

“I--”

“Thanks Bailey.”

The phone went quiet. Bailey checked the screen: call ended.

She leant against the wall and took a deep breath. It certainly could have gone worse, she reasoned. Perhaps that was even the best-case scenario. But still, that twinge in her stomach grew; he was so close to what he wanted. It was already there, in his hands; he just couldn't feel it. If only he'd take the gamble and try to grasp it. If only he knew.