The Intern - Dylan Hoffman

CHAPTER SIX - A WORD, PLEASE

The next few weeks were a blur of stolen moments and secret rendezvous. Dylan and I became experts at sneaking around, always careful not to let our relationship slip into the public eye. But despite our efforts, the tension between us was growing. The more time we spent together, the harder it became to keep our feelings hidden.

Estelle's sharp eyes were always watching, and I knew that it was only a matter of time before she put two and two together. The thought of getting caught filled me with dread, but at the same time, I couldn't bring myself to end things with Dylan. He had become an addiction, a dangerous habit that I couldn't quit.

Our affair continued, and the lines between professional and personal began to blur. I found myself daydreaming about Dylan during work, my mind constantly drifting back to our nights together. It was becoming harder to focus, harder to keep up the façade of professionalism that Estelle demanded.

One afternoon, as I was helping one of the actresses with her makeup, Estelle pulled me aside. Her expression was unreadable, but I could feel the tension radiating from her.

"Y/N," she said, her tone calm but laced with an undercurrent of warning. "I've noticed some... distractions lately."

My heart skipped a beat. I tried to keep my face neutral, but I knew that she could see right through me. "I'm sorry, Estelle. I'll do better."

She studied me for a moment, her gaze piercing. "I certainly hope so. You've been doing good work here, but remember, I demand excellence. If there's anything getting in the way of that, it needs to be addressed immediately."

I nodded, feeling a wave of guilt wash over me. Estelle's words were a stark reminder of the risks I was taking. I knew that if she ever found out about Dylan and me, it would be the end of everything I had worked for. But despite the danger, I couldn't bring myself to walk away.

As the weeks went on, the pressure began to build. Dylan and I were getting careless, and I could sense that our secret was teetering on the edge of exposure. The thrill of our affair had given way to a constant undercurrent of anxiety, and I found myself constantly looking over my shoulder, fearing that our secret would be discovered.

Then, one evening, it happened.

Dylan and I had planned to meet after work, as we often did. But as I left the makeup department, I saw Estelle standing in the hallway, her arms crossed and a knowing look in her eyes. My heart sank, and I knew that the jig was up.

"Y/N," she said, her voice cold and steely. "A word, please."

I followed her into an empty room,