Chapter 10 – Black Listed

• Anna
• My jaw nearly dropped. I stared at him, stunned.
• “How did you know all that?” I asked awkwardly, suddenly self-conscious.
• After twenty-seven interviews and rejections, he was the first person to connect the dots—to call me out like this.
• Tyson leaned back, fingers steepled in front of his lips. “The Stars—one of your very first pieces. Everglade Summit won the International Teen Gem Competition. Polar Light secured second place in the Worldwide Jewelry Competition, but the results were tampered with. You should’ve won first. Need me to go on?”
• His voice wasn’t mocking. It wasn’t cold either. Just… calculated. Measured.
• “No,” I whispered. “That’s enough.”
• Because hearing it from him—like this—made me feel seen and exposed all at once.
• That answer caught me off guard. I studied him for a moment, trying to see past the cold CEO exterior—but all I saw was sincerity.
• I sighed in defeat, “no, but how did you know those designs? They’re not on the market.”
• “I’ve studied your work,” Tyson replied calmly. “Recognized your style the moment I saw it.”
• My breath hitched. “Did Dr. Anderson know about this?” I asked, suddenly panicked.
• Tyson shook his head.
• “No. He doesn't,” he replied.
• I let out a quiet breath of relief. That secret was mine to keep—for now.
• “Max told me you’ve been job hunting,” Tyson continued. “What are you looking for in terms of salary and accommodations?”
• It sounded like good news, but there was still one thing I had to know before I could even think about saying yes.
• “Am I being hired for my skills… or for my connection to you?” I asked, keeping my gaze steady.
• “You know me,” Tyson said without missing a beat. “I don’t play favorites.”
• That’s true. I haven’t interacted much with Tyson Anderson over the years, but his reputation speaks for itself—he’s the type of man who never cheats, never plays games with anyone’s life or time. Well… all except with his wife. But even that seems more like adoration than deception.
• I agreed to the terms, and we moved on to discuss the details of my employment.
• In short, I’d be signing a contract per design—each project would be individually negotiated, and the payout would vary depending on the scale and complexity of the piece. I wouldn’t be permanently bound to Anderson Corp, but my designs would be exclusive to them for the duration of each contract.
• The compensation was more than fair—generous, even—but there was a strict clause: any breach of contract would result in a hefty penalty. No room for error. No room for betrayal.
• Tyson Anderson wasn’t someone to cross. He was a force to be reckoned with. But so long as I held my integrity, I had nothing to fear.
• “Anna, can I call you that?” he asked.
• “Sure,” I agreed.
• “Do you know you’ve been blacklisted?” he said, and I frowned.
• “No. What’s going on?” I asked, confused.
• Tyson quickly pulled out an email and showed it to me.
• “It’s an email from Lucky Star’s management team, warning all companies not to hire you due to allegations of fraud and illegal activity. Are you aware of this?” he explained.
• “Not at all.” Then it occurred to me. “Must be Darla’s doing,” I muttered to myself.
• “Who?” Tyson caught it.
• “My stepmother. After Mr. Hamburg got into an accident, she took over the company.”
• Tyson went completely silent, which made me second-guess myself.
• “Are you having doubts?” I asked.
• “About hiring you? Never,” he said firmly.
• “How are you so sure?” I pressed.
• “You were married to Max for a year. Do you really think I wouldn’t look into your past?” he said plainly.
• “Makes sense… why did I even ask?” I muttered to myself.
• “What I’m curious about is why I received this email,” Tyson said. “It seems like a personal issue between you and Darla.”
• “Stepmother–stepdaughter relationship,” I replied with a shrug. “It never turns out well. Anyway, thank you for the opportunity. I promise to work hard.”
• With everything settled, I was dismissed. I left the president’s office feeling like a huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders—all thanks to the Anderson brothers.
• “How did it go?” Dr. Anderson asked, already on his feet and walking toward me.
• “All good. Thank you,” I said, genuinely grateful.
• I was just about to ask if I could treat him to a meal as a thank-you when his brother cut me off.
• “Max, I need to have a word with you,” Tyson called out from behind.
• “I’ll be right back. Wait for me,” Anderson said before hurrying back into his brother’s office.
• “How have you been?” Celine stepped forward.
• “Not good, but not too bad,” I admitted.
• “I heard about your father. I’m sorry,” she said gently.
• “He’s recovering well now. I still have hope that he’ll make a full recovery,” I replied.
• “My prayers are with you and your father,” she offered sincerely.
• “Thank you,” I said with a soft smile.
• We chatted about work, then caught up on life for a little while. After finishing my cup of coffee, I asked to leave—because I genuinely wanted to go. Dr. Anderson asked me to wait, but I didn’t want to disturb him any further.
• “It’s getting late—I should get going,” I excused myself.
• “Aren’t you waiting for Max?” Celine stopped me.
• “I don’t want to bother him any more than I already have,” I said quietly.
• My life is a mess, and he’s already done more than enough for me.
• “I don’t see it that way. I’m sure he doesn’t mind at all,” Celine replied, gently arguing her point.
• “That’s not true,” I replied with a faint smile. “Anyway, I should get going. Enjoy the rest of your day.”
• I turned and left quickly, not giving her a chance to argue.
• I took a cab back to the hospital and ended the day there. Tyler stopped by for dinner. He had planned to eat with me, but Brian called, insisting they have dinner together.
• Tyler didn’t want to leave, but I forced him out. Any more of his generosity, and I’d end up being mistaken for his girlfriend in Brian’s eyes.
• Once Tyler disappeared, my iPad became my dinner buddy.
• I had anticipated Dr. Anderson to walk through the door—but he never did. For the rest of the night, he didn’t come back either. It was a little disappointing… but I was fine with it.
• The next day, he stopped by while I wasn’t around to check on Mr. Hamburg, then left quickly. I was starting to get the feeling that he was trying to avoid me—but I chalked it up to him being busy. My gratitude dinner would have to wait.
• A week passed with no sign of the doctor. I tried calling and texting, but he never replied. Feeling insignificant, I eventually stopped trying to get his attention.
• Still, I’m not an ungrateful person. So, I decided to thank him with my favorite treat—pandan bread and orange juice. Don’t get me wrong, I’d treat him to something better if I had the chance… but I don’t know his bread preferences.
• After asking around the hospital for Dr. Anderson’s office, I finally found it. I knocked once—no answer. Knocked again—still nothing. Giving him the benefit of the doubt, I decided to come back later.
• But just as I turned the corner and disappeared from view, I heard another knock.
• It was Dr. Violet.
• I didn’t hear a reply from inside, but she did. She happily skidded into the room, smiling like she belonged there.
• Like an idiot, I circled back—only to catch a glimpse of the two of them, standing far too close, in a moment that felt far too intimate.
• What was I expecting? That he’d push her away after being in love with her for so long?
• Yeah… not happening.
• “Don’t you like me? Well, now’s your chance,” she chimed, stepping even closer to him.
• “I’m finally open to that dinner date you’ve been begging me for,” she added, leaning casually against his desk.
• “Really? Now you’re open to it?” he asked with a small, amused smile.
• With that confirmation, I turned around and made my way to the front desk.
• He hadn’t been avoiding me out of guilt or busyness—he was simply preoccupied with the woman he truly cared about.
• It hurt.
• But I chose not to intrude. Instead, I left the gratitude snacks along with a thank-you note at the front counter.
• Tonight, my heart felt heavier than usual.
• Maybe this is how things are meant to be. I came into this world alone, and I’ll walk through the rest of it the same way.
• Still, that didn’t stop the tears from quietly slipping down my face.