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Chapter 27
As if the rain wasn't enough, a group of drunken men stumbled upon the scene, their laughter piercing the quiet night. Clad in black raincoats, they spotted Emily, and her heart raced as their eyes locked onto her. She took a shaky step back.
“Hey, Miss! Are you lost?” they called out.
Tightening her grip on her shoes, she turned and walked faster. Her heart thumped loudly in her chest as they continued to call out to her, their footsteps echoing behind her.
“Hey, Miss! Don't run away!” They laughed and began whistling, their words dripping with disrespect. “A lady should be out this time.”
“How much for a night with you, huh, slut?!” one of them jeered.
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The fluorescent lights hummed overhead, casting a glow on the office space. Despite a fever that had her feeling under the weather, Emily pushed through and arrived at work for an important meeting. The previous day's rain and exhaustion had finally caught up with her weakened body. A glimmer of relief came when she found no online articles mentioning a woman being Oliver's girlfriend at the gala. Emily lost in the methodical task of tidying her boss's desk, barely registered the click of the door as Oliver entered. A shiver ran down her spine, a symptom of the fever clinging to her, but she plastered on a smile, the ever-present mask she wore – professional. “Good morning, Mr. Sterling” Oliver, acknowledging her with a nod, sank into his chair, hanging his suit jacket
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Oliver sat hunched over his desk, his brow furrowed as he reviewed a document. The quiet hum of the office was abruptly shattered by the click of the door opening."Right on time, Ms. Collins," he began, “I need a few documents from last year's report"Oliver looked up, expecting to see Emily. Instead, he was met with the stoic face of his grandmother's secretary—Mr. Owen. "Mr. Owen? What are you doing here"The secretary bowed at him for a second before holding up the brown paper bag. "OI was told to bring you your lunch, Mr. Oliver''Oliver's brows shot up. "Lunch? Where’s Emily?""Madam Calliope and Odessa have invited Ms. Emily to join them for lunch."“What?!” he exclaimed in annoyance. “I knew they would do this” A jolt of unexpected concern bubbled up to him and a prickle of unease settled in his stomach. His jaw clenched. He knew his mom and grandmother could be too excited and overly welcoming, and the thought of Emily being swept up without any warning left him feeling ann
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Outside the tall building of Sterling Corporation, Emily exited the car, her smile polite as one of Madam Calliope's bodyguards opened the door for her. Bidding farewell to the two women, she received a gentle pat on the hand."You're such a lovely young woman, Emily," Madam Calliope gushed. "Are you sure you're alright, dear? You felt a bit warm earlier.""Thank you, Madam Calliope, I'm fine, just a little under the weather earlier but the delicious lunch definitely helped."Despite the warmth of their company, she felt drained due to her slight fever. Secretly, she longed for the familiar comfort of her apartment.“Take care, dear. See you again soon” Madam Odessa said, followed by a chilling sentence that made her freeze in her place. "See you at the reuni
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She remained silent, her gaze flitting around the room trying to avoid Oliver’s intense stare. To break the awkward air between them, she gestured towards the plastic bag on the coffee table.“What is this, Sir?”"Medicines for fever. You need to take one," he instructed, “then I'll drive you home afterward."Emily's jaw dropped. How did he know she had a fever when he clearly had no idea she was having a hard time this morning?"I'm fine, Sir," she said. However, the fatigue etched on her face betrayed her words."Don't lie to me, Ms. Collins," Oliver countered, his voice leaving no room for argument. "Bryson visited earlier."Surprise fl
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Oliver breezed into his office, whistling a cheerful tune. A steaming cup of coffee warmed his hand as he tossed his briefcase onto the plush chair and hung his suit jacket on the back of his swivel chair. Reaching for his daily schedule on the right side of his desk felt like muscle memory, but his hand hovered, then landed with a soft thud on an empty space. A frown creased his brow as he noticed his computer was still off. Unease prickled his skin. Emily never left her desk bare. He called out, "Ms. Collins?" Silence answered him, broken only by the gentle hum of the air conditioner. Realization dawned. "Right, I told her to take a day off," he muttered, disappointment tingling in his voice as he slumped back into his chair.
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Oliver practically collapsed onto the plush couch in his living room, tossing a brown paper bag onto the kitchen island. The doorman had just delivered his dinner – the result of a quick call to his chef friend. Cooking wasn't exactly in Oliver's repertoire, and on busy days like this, Emily would take the initiative to arrange meals. The soft glow of the penthouse lights bathed his exhausted form in a warm sheen. A glance at the clock made him wince – 9:00 PM already. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, fatigue etched on his face. Then, his eyes fell on the crumpled note still clutched in his hand. It was from the brown paper bag. A handwritten message from his chef friend: Made you a Grilled Filet Mignon and Truffle Pasta today, bro. You might be surprised since I heard Ms. Collins wasn't in today. But she called me to prepare dinne
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A grin spread across Oliver's face. "But this new movie is actually pretty interesting! I can't seem to tear myself away..." "Don't play coy with me, Mr. Sterling," Emily countered, "That's Interstellar on the screen you've seen for umpteenth time, and let's be honest, you probably haven't understood a word of it all night. Plus, I know there's that expensive whiskey keeping you company." Oliver burst out laughing, the sound echoing through the penthouse. "Alright, alright, you win" He reached for the remote and flicked off the TV with a sigh. He rose from the couch, leaving the untouched glass of whiskey behind, and headed for his bedroom. The phone remained pressed to his ear, his other hand shoved in his sweatpants pocket. "Hear that?" he said, a playful note in h
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Emily hurried through the glass doors of the tall building, her arms laden with a brown paper bag and a steaming coffee cup balanced precariously on top. Juggling the two, she spotted Bella, her coworker, heading towards the reception desk. "Em!" Bella called out, a friendly smile spreading across her face. Emily offered a quick wave in response before continuing her mad dash towards the president's private elevator. She pressed the button for the top floor with a practiced ease, her heart hammering against her ribs. A quick glance down revealed her reflection in the mirrored doors - a sea of dark green pencil skirt and a floral brown blouse that seemed perpetually wrinkled despite her efforts with the iron. Her black tights did little to combat the morning chill, and her black pumps clicked a staccato beat against the polished marble floor. She adjusted her
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