“Hold up! Get out of the way, old man, seriously, move it!” The voice, sharp and entitled, sliced through the already tense atmosphere of the cramped elevator in the bustling Thompson Tower, right in the heart of downtown Chicago. “How dare you lay a hand on an elder?” a clear, steady voice cut back, surprising everyone. “The elevator’s already overloaded, and it happened the moment you stepped in. If anyone’s leaving, it should be you.”
The woman who’d spoken, a sharp-featured blonde in an expensive power suit, whirled around. “Who do you think you are to tell me to leave? Do you have any idea who I am? Or my direct connection to Michael Thompson, the Chairman himself?” Her eyes, narrowed to slits, scanned the newcomer with disdain. “I don’t care who you are. Apologize to him right now.”
A young woman, Emily Carter, blinked. Is this woman blind? To openly confront Sophia Reed, Thompson Enterprises’ star Senior Manager? Emily knew Sophia was notorious, and today was interview day for countless hopefuls, including herself. “She’s here for an interview,” a whispered comment from a nervous bystander reached Emily’s ears. “She’ll tank it for sure, after offending Sophia.”
Emily shook her head slightly. Not worth my breath, she thought, turning her attention to the older man who still seemed a bit shaken. “Sir, are you okay?” she asked, her voice gentle, eyes filled with genuine concern.
He offered a weak smile. “I’m fine, thank you, miss. Glad you’re all right, too.” He paused, looking at her warmly. “What’s your name, dear?”
“Emily Carter.”
“Do you work here, at Thompson Enterprises?” he inquired, his gaze lingering on her.
“No, sir. I’m actually here for an interview.” Emily offered a hopeful, if slightly nervous, smile.
He beamed. “Well, I believe in you, Emily. You’ll pass for sure.” His words, so simple, brought a surprising warmth to her chest.
“I appreciate that, sir,” she replied, just as the elevator chimed, its doors finally opening. The crowd surged out, leaving Emily and a couple of others heading for the HR floor. “Man, I wonder if I’ll actually meet Mr. Thompson today,” a voice muttered beside her.
“Why would he attend interviews for us ‘small fries’?” another scoffed. “Unless you make it to the executive office, you’ll barely get a chance to interact with Chairman Thompson.”
“Emily Carter?” A crisp voice called out from the reception area.
“That’s me,” Emily responded, stepping forward.
“Come in for your interview.”
Meanwhile, across town in a sleek, glass-walled penthouse office overlooking the sprawling expanse of Central Park in New York City, Michael Thompson, CEO of Thompson Enterprises, was deep in a phone call. “Mr. Johnson, our staff wasn’t at JFK to pick up Grandpa. Did you check his old brownstone in Brooklyn Heights? No sign there either.” He ran a hand through his hair, a hint of frustration in his voice. “You brat, Grandpa. Are you still recovering? Why on earth would you sneak back to the USA without telling anyone?”
A gruff voice boomed from the other end. “You have the nerve to ask me? It’s been a whole year, Michael! A whole year since you promised to bring me my granddaughter-in-law. Where is she? Did you even get married?”
Michael sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Grandpa, I showed you the marriage certificate.”
“Just the cover, boy! Do you think I’m senile? I don’t care about covers. I want to meet her. If I don’t see her, I swear, I’ll… I’ll end my life right here!” The old man’s theatrics were legendary.
“Fine, fine!” Michael capitulated, knowing resistance was futile. “If you promise to recover properly, I’ll take you to meet her. One month, okay? That’s all you get.” He heard his grandfather huff, but a grudging agreement came through.
Then, an unexpected addendum. “Oh, and a girl named Emily Carter interviewed at your company today. Hire her.”
Michael raised an eyebrow. “Grandpa, our company hires based on merit. You know that.”
“She made it to the interview, didn’t she? That shows capability right there. That Emily Carter girl… she’s kind and beautiful. I like her. A lot.” His grandfather’s tone left no room for debate.
Michael suppressed another sigh. “Alright, alright. I’ll hire her. Happy now?”
“Let’s go, Grandpa. I’ll take you home,” Michael said, changing the subject.
“No need,” his grandfather replied dismissively. “I’ll go alone. Emily Carter, huh…” he mumbled, the name seeming to bring a smile to his face.
Back in Chicago, Emily walked into the interview room, a wave of nervous energy washing over her. “Good morning, panel,” she greeted, offering her resume.
Sophia Reed, seated at the head of the table, sneered as her eyes landed on Emily. “Ew. What a coincidence.” Emily’s heart sank. She recognized the look. I’m doomed.
“Get out,” Sophia snapped, waving a dismissive hand.
“You haven’t even looked at my resume,” Emily retorted, a flicker of defiance in her eyes.
“Don’t need to. Trash like you doesn’t belong here. Take your resume and scram.” Sophia’s voice dripped with venom.
Just then, the door opened and Michael Thompson himself walked in, looking every bit the formidable CEO, his presence instantly commanding the room. Oh my god, Mr. Thompson. He’s even more handsome in person, a panelist whispered, clearly star-struck.
Emily, however, was fuming. “You’re just retaliating because I offended you in the elevator, aren’t you?” she accused, looking directly at Sophia.
Sophia smirked. “So what if I am? You bullied an elder earlier. That was wrong.”
“And given another chance,” Emily shot back, her voice firm, “I’d do it again. With interviewers like you, I quit this process.” She tossed her resume onto the table.
Sophia shrugged. “Suit yourself. Who needs this anyway?”
Michael, who had been observing the exchange with a stony expression, finally spoke. His eyes, sharp and intelligent, met Emily’s. “Why do you look… familiar?” he mused aloud. “Who is Emily Carter?”
“That’s me,” Emily answered, a hint of surprise in her voice.
“Majored in design?” Michael continued, glancing at the abandoned resume. “Does our design department still need more people?”
A nervous design manager quickly interjected, “Mr. Thompson, our department is fully staffed now.”
“You can join secretarial as an intern,” Michael stated, then turned to his assistant. “Alex Johnson, handle her onboarding.”
“Yes, sir,” Alex replied, a hint of confusion on his face as he ushered Emily away.
As they left, Sophia glared daggers at Emily’s back. “This woman’s already hitting on Mr. Thompson. You’ll pay for this,” she muttered under her breath.
Later, in the bustling office, Emily was trying to find her footing when a loud voice cut through the air. “You’re the new office hottie, huh?” A man, Ryan Patel, Thompson Enterprises’ Head of Marketing, sauntered up to her, his gaze overtly appreciative. He reached out to touch her arm.
“What are you doing?” Emily recoiled, slapping his hand away.
Ryan looked shocked. “You dare hit me?!”
“You harassed me,” Emily stated, her jaw tight. “A slap was mercy.”
“Weren’t you just chasing Mr. Thompson?” Ryan scoffed, rubbing his hand. “What’s wrong with a little touch from me? Stop playing the innocent saint.”
“Mr. Thompson! Mark my words!” Sophia suddenly appeared, her voice echoing through the office. Michael Thompson emerged from his office, his brow furrowed.
“Don’t you move,” Emily warned Ryan, refusing to let him go.
“Let go of me!” Ryan struggled.
“What happened?” Michael demanded, his gaze sweeping over the scene.
“He harassed me!” Emily declared, her voice trembling slightly with indignation. “Touched me!”
Ryan immediately turned to Michael, feigning distress. “Mr. Thompson, I didn’t! She’s… she’s using me to climb up! Came on to me!” He put on a convincing act. “Who let this scheming woman into our company? Fire her immediately!”
“Mr. Thompson,” Emily interjected, her voice firm despite her anger. “You hired her.”
Michael paused, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes.
Ryan, thinking he had won, started to gloat. “What the–”
“Mr. Thompson, I’m so sorry!” Alex Johnson rushed forward, looking mortified. “I spoke out of turn. I apologize, but you must believe me! She was the one hitting on me!”
“He’s lying!” Emily protested.
“Mr. Thompson,” Ryan pleaded, regaining his composure. “After all these years at the company, I’ve always been diligent. You have to trust me.”
Michael’s voice was cold, decisive. “Get out. You hear me? Get out.”
“It was clearly him harassing me! Why fire me instead?!” Emily exclaimed, utterly bewildered.
Michael sighed, rubbing his temples. “I meant him. Not you.”
Ryan looked utterly aghast. “Idiot!” he blurted, realizing his mistake. “Mr. Thompson, I know I messed up! I have an 80-year-old mother and a child on the way! If you fire me, they’ll starve! Mr. Thompson, I beg you, please give me another chance!”
Michael held up three fingers. “Three.”
Ryan’s face fell. “Mr. Thompson!”
Michael held up two fingers. “Two.”
Ryan, desperate, started to babble thanks as Michael cut him off. “Thank you, Mr. Thompson!” He scurried out of the office, defeated.
Michael watched him go, then his eyes flickered to Emily. “Have I seen her somewhere?” he murmured, a thought nagging at him. “Alex Johnson.”
“Yes, Mr. Thompson?”
“Bring me my marriage certificate. And by the way, last year, what was the name of the person you found for me to marry?”
Alex, ever efficient, replied, “Olivia Bennett, sir. Are you sure?”
Michael frowned. “I’m sure. Must I have remembered wrong?” He turned his attention to Emily. “Emily Carter, I’ll get you some materials to review. Okay?”
“Okay,” Emily replied, still a bit stunned by the abrupt turn of events.
Later, Alex brought Emily a stack of documents. “Take these documents back and study them,” he instructed.
“Okay,” Emily said, heading back to her new, albeit temporary, desk.
Days later, Michael was in his office, a frustrated frown on his face. “Mr. Johnson, I’m sorry,” he said, looking at Alex. “Any luck finding it?”
“Not yet, sir,” Alex admitted, looking equally perplexed. “I remember leaving it right here, in this spot. But it just… vanished.”
Emily, passing by, overheard. “Assistant Alex, what are you looking for?”
“My marriage certificate,” Alex mumbled, still searching.
“Let me help you search!” Emily offered, stepping forward.
“No need,” Michael interjected curtly. “Go get the product ingredient list for my signature.”
“Ingredient list?” Emily asked, a bit confused.
“Yes. Okay, go.”
Meanwhile, Ryan, still reeling from his demotion, approached Sophia. “Mr. Thompson, I sincerely regret my actions. Please don’t fire me.”
Sophia smirked. “I can keep you employed, Mr. Patel, and…” she leaned in conspiratorially. “You must help me this time. I can’t lose my position at Thompson Enterprises.”
“I’ll assist you,” Ryan said eagerly. “If you handle something for me. What is it?”
“Make Emily Carter leave Thompson Enterprises,” Sophia stated, her eyes glinting. “Emily Carter… she’s the reason I got fired by Mr. Thompson.”
“Don’t worry,” Ryan promised, a nasty smile spreading across his face. “I’ll make sure she’s gone.”
“Proceed,” Sophia urged. She watched Ryan walk away, a triumphant smile on her face. “Michael Thompson, I’ll remove every woman who dares to covet you. You’re mine alone.”
Later, Emily was about to enter Michael’s office when Sophia blocked her path. “Who let you in here?”
“Mr. Thompson,” Emily began, “I lost an earring here. Right here,” she insisted, pointing to the floor.
“Without my permission, don’t enter my office,” Michael’s stern voice came from inside.
“Okay, Mr. Thompson,” Emily mumbled, retreating.
Sophia, seeing her chance, marched into Michael’s office. “What are you doing here?” she demanded of Emily, who was now holding a document. “Flaunting yourself for Mr. Thompson again?”
“I’m delivering the ingredient list,” Emily explained.
Sophia snatched the document. Her eyes widened. “What are you doing?! You dared to tamper with the formula! Adding mercury to it? If this goes into production, the entire batch will be ruined! You’re trying to destroy Thompson Enterprises!” she shrieked, making a dramatic show of it.
“I didn’t do it!” Emily protested, her face pale. “I never touched this document. I just got it from R&D.”
“How dare you lie?!” Sophia’s voice was shrill. “Adding this is illegal! Come with me to HR!”
“I won’t go! I didn’t do it! Let me go! Let me go!” Emily struggled as Sophia grabbed her arm, dragging her towards the door.
“What’s going on here?” Michael’s voice boomed, stepping out of his office.
“Mr. Thompson!” Sophia cried, practically throwing Emily towards him. “Emily Carter tampered with the formula, damaging our reputation!”
“I didn’t! I never touched it!” Emily pleaded, tears welling in her eyes.
“Stop lying!” Sophia spat. “Where’s the original formula? Did you sell it to competitors?”
Michael’s gaze was piercing. “Emily Carter, any explanations?”
“I swear I didn’t touch it! Taylor Green told me to retrieve this document! I didn’t even look at it! How could I possibly…?”
“Enough with the act! Let’s go to HR!” Sophia interrupted, pulling at Emily again.
“I told you I didn’t! I’m not going! Let me go!”
“Enough,” Michael said, his voice laced with an undeniable authority that stopped them both. He looked at Emily. “Did you go anywhere else?”
Emily, still shaken, thought for a moment. “The pantry. I went to the pantry for a minute. It must have been swapped there!”
“Check the security footage from the pantry!” Michael ordered.
Sophia scoffed. “A thief crying, ‘stop thief’! Everyone knows the pantry cameras were broken.”
Michael’s eyes narrowed. “Mr. Thompson, the surveillance cameras were repaired long ago,” Alex Johnson said, stepping forward with a tablet showing live footage.
On the screen, Ryan Patel was clearly seen swapping documents in the pantry.
“It’s him?!” Michael exclaimed, recognizing Ryan. “Wasn’t he fired? Why is he still here?” He turned to Alex. “Bring Ryan Patel here!”
“Yes, sir!” Alex hurried off.
Moments later, Ryan was dragged back into the office. “Let go of me! Release me! And why are you arresting me?!”
“Still making excuses?” Michael’s voice was icy. “The surveillance footage is right here. Why did you swap the files to frame her?”
Ryan’s face drained of color. “Yes… It’s…”
Sophia, surprisingly, tried to intervene. “How dare you lie in front of Mr. Thompson? You’d better think carefully before acting!”
“I… I just couldn’t accept it,” Ryan stammered, his eyes darting wildly. “I wanted Emily Carter to get fired too! Mr. Thompson, I never meant to… harm the Thompson Corporation!”
“Save that story for the police,” Michael said, his voice flat. “Take him away now.”
“Let go! I can walk myself!” Ryan protested as he was led out.
Michael turned to Emily. “Emily Carter, you failed your duties. You’re fired.”
“Why?!” Emily cried, utterly shocked. “Wasn’t this already investigated? It wasn’t me!”
At that moment, Alex rushed back in, a worried expression on his face. “Mr. Thompson, did you find it? It’s my negligence, sir. I lost your marriage certificate. Not sure if Mrs. Thompson still has hers.”
Michael’s eyes hardened. “I checked. One certificate is enough for divorce.”
Emily’s head spun. Marriage certificate? He’s married?
“Fine, I understand,” Michael said, dismissing Alex. He looked at Emily, his expression unreadable. “Get out.”
“Let’s go,” Sophia said triumphantly, taking Emily’s arm.
“Let go! Stop dragging me!” Emily pulled away.
Later that evening, sitting on her worn couch in her modest apartment in Queens, Emily’s phone rang. It was her «mysterious husband.»
“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice small. “You and I have no connection.”
“Stop calling me your husband, Emily. This is a misunderstanding. I’m…”
“Get out!” she snapped, the frustration of the day boiling over.
The voice on the other end paused, then, “Mr. Thompson, the matter has…”
“I said, get out!” Michael Thompson’s voice, sharp and distinct, came through the phone. Emily blinked. Wasn’t this already investigated?
She held the phone away from her ear, realizing she had confused Michael Thompson with her actual mystery husband. “Hello? I’m sorry, I… I left early this morning.” She hoped he hadn’t heard Michael’s angry outburst.
“Are you crying?” her mystery husband asked, his voice softer now.
“No,” she lied, wiping a tear from her cheek.
“Did you call about the divorce matter?” he asked.
“About the divorce,” Emily said, steeling herself. “Let’s delay it by a month. I need you to act as my wife, to meet my grandfather.” She knew it was a big ask, but she had to try. “Don’t worry. I’ll compensate you for this month.”
“That’s unnecessary,” Emily replied, genuinely. “The money you gave me last time saved the life of my only family, my grandma. You’re my benefactor now. I can’t take more money. Rest assured, I’m good with elderly people.” A small smile touched her lips. “We’ll proceed with the divorce soon.” Then she remembered. “Oh, and our marriage certificate. I accidentally lost mine. Do you still have yours?”
A brief silence. “Yours is missing too?” he asked, a hint of surprise in his tone.
“I lost your marriage certificate,” Emily admitted.
Suddenly, she remembered something Alex Johnson had said earlier. “Taylor Green just mentioned Mr. Thompson’s marriage certificate is missing.” What a coincidence. Two. Your marriage certificate is also missing. A strange feeling crept over her. “If that’s the case, it’s a problem.”
“It’s okay,” her mystery husband said reassuringly. “A colleague of mine today also lost their marriage certificate.”
What was I thinking? Emily thought, shaking her head. How could my mysterious husband be Mr. Thompson?She took a deep breath. “You… are you facing some difficulties? I heard you crying earlier, even though this is a sham marriage. But tell me if you need help. I’ll do my best to assist you.”
Just then, Michael’s voice, clear and commanding, came through the office speaker. “Mr. Thompson, Mr. Davis, and his team have arrived.”
“Bring the contract,” Michael instructed.
Emily’s mystery husband’s voice cut back in. “I’m fine. Right before you called me, I got fired from the company. I just lost control of my emotions.”
“Work at your company,” her husband offered.
“No need,” Emily said, a renewed resolve in her voice. “Don’t worry. I won’t be easily defeated.”
“Your boss firing you shows his poor judgment,” her husband commented.
Emily couldn’t help but agree. “Hmm. He really is blind.”
“Never speak ill of others behind their backs,” her husband chided gently.
Just as he said that, a car pulled up outside her building. Michael Thompson. Speak of the devil. Here he comes.
“I need to go,” Emily said quickly into the phone. “Something came up. We’ll text about the details later. Got it.” She hung up, rushing downstairs.
The next day, back at Thompson Enterprises, the office was abuzz with whispers. “Emily Carter, you’re Mr. Thompson’s new assistant, right?” A co-worker asked. “Do you know who Mr. Thompson’s mysterious wife is? I always thought Mr. Thompson was the city’s most eligible bachelor. Never imagined he’s married.”
“Even if Mr. Thompson were single, you’d still have no chance,” Sophia interjected, a venomous smile on her face.
“Hey, rumor says Mr. Thompson’s planning to divorce his secret wife! Is that true?” another gossiped.
“Seems plausible,” said another. “Does that mean I still have a shot?”
“Too much free time on your hands?” Michael Thompson’s voice suddenly cut through the air, sending a chill down everyone’s spine. He looked directly at the gossiping employees. “Pack your belongings and leave the company immediately.”
The office fell silent. “What’s happening?!” a stunned voice whispered. “No idea…”
Later, Sophia cornered Emily. “Taylor Green, do you know Mr. Thompson’s schedule?”
“His schedule is confidential,” Emily replied, recalling Alex Johnson’s words. “Only Sophia and Taylor Green have access.”
Sophia smirked. “Do you know who Mr. Thompson is meeting with today? Probably CEO Davis from Celestial Group. Mr. Davis.”
Emily, remembering her conversation with her «husband» (Michael, she now realized with a jolt), suddenly understood. Michael was going to meet Mr. Davis. “Hey, where are you going?” Sophia called after her as Emily hurried away.
“Going to intercept him!” Emily called back.
She found Michael, looking rather disheveled, outside a high-end restaurant near Boston’s Financial District, known for its power lunches. “Hand over the medicine,” she demanded, extending her hand.
Michael looked at her, surprised. “What are you doing here? How did you track me down?”
“I did my research,” Emily said, confidently. “I found out our collaboration partner is Mr. Davis from Celestial Group. This is his favorite restaurant. If we’re discussing cooperation, he’ll definitely choose this place.” She pushed a small bottle into his hand. “What you need now is a hangover cure.”
Michael eyed her suspiciously. “What’s your motive for approaching me?”
“I just want to prove I can be a competent assistant,” Emily stated, her resolve firm. “Ryan Patel was the one who messed up. Why fire me instead?”
Michael scoffed. “I don’t explain things to idiots.”
Suddenly, Emily stumbled, bumping into Michael and spilling a bit of the hangover cure on his immaculate suit. “You!” she gasped, mortified. “Emily Carter! I’m sorry! That wasn’t intentional! Let me clean that for you.”
As she frantically dabbed at his suit, Sophia arrived, a triumphant look on her face. “Mr. Thompson, maybe I should leave now.”
“Taylor Green! Get back here!” Michael commanded, his eyes fixed on Emily.
Emily, still trying to clean the spill, found herself in an awkward position on Michael’s lap. “Mr. Thompson! How long will you stay on my lap?”
“I slipped!” she protested, trying to move. “Move!” Michael said, not unkindly.
“I genuinely want to know why,” Emily insisted, looking up at him.
Michael sighed. “Fine. I’ll tell you why. As an assistant, you didn’t notice the documents were swapped. Not only are you careless, you lack basic responsibility.”
“Dare to make a bet with me,” Emily challenged, meeting his gaze. “Give me one month. If I can prove myself as a competent assistant, let me stay and work in the design department.”
Just then, his grandfather’s voice, a memory from the phone call, echoed in his mind. It’s you? That Emily Carter girl. Kind and capable. I see potential in her.
Michael looked at Emily, a ghost of a smile touching his lips. “Fine. Out of respect for Grandpa, I’ll give her another chance. Okay. You’ve got one month. And if you fail…”
“I’ll pay you six months’ salary!” Emily interjected, surprising him.
“Fine,” Michael agreed, then held out his hand. “Give me the deposit.”
Emily pulled out her credit card. Michael glanced at it. Why does this card look familiar? he wondered.
“I was just joking,” Emily said, seeing his expression. “Your petty cash means nothing to me.” She stood up, renewed determination in her eyes. “One month. Succeed and stay. Fail and get lost.”
“I’ll start work tomorrow!” she declared, turning to leave.
“Idiot,” Michael muttered, a small smile playing on his lips. “See you tomorrow.”
The next morning, Emily walked into the Thompson Enterprises office, a new spring in her step. “Morning, Sophia!” she chirped.
“Good morning, Sophia!” echoed another colleague.
“Morning, Sister Sophia,” a new hire said, slightly intimidated.
Sophia glared at Emily. “Emily Carter! Weren’t you fired by Mr. Thompson?”
“Mr. Thompson’s got a sharp eye for talent,” Emily replied, a playful glint in her eyes. “He kept me again. How’s that? Annoyed?”
Sophia’s jaw tightened. “You… Michael Thompson’s making exceptions for her again!” she seethed to a nearby colleague. Still no leads on the mystery wife. Another rival joins the fray.
“Sophia, I’ve got tissues here,” the colleague offered, sensing her distress.
“Get lost!” Sophia snapped.
Later, Emily approached Michael’s office with a freshly brewed cup. “Mr. Thompson, your coffee, Mr. Thompson. No milk, sugar, or ice, right?”
“Leave it there,” Michael said, not looking up from his computer.
“Something else?” Emily asked, lingering. “Won’t you try it?”
“Get out,” Michael replied, his voice firm.
Emily sighed and left. Michael, however, took a sip. Oh. Not bad at all.
Sophia, ever observant, watched the interaction. “What do you think you’re doing, Emily Carter? Don’t tell me you’re Mr. Thompson’s mystery wife.”
“Are you insane?!” Emily exclaimed, genuinely horrified. “How could I be Mr. Thompson’s secret wife?!”
“You better not be,” Sophia warned, her eyes narrowed. “Or else I’ll…”
“You lunatic!” Emily muttered under her breath.
Just then, Emily’s phone rang. “Got it. On my way.” She rushed out.
Sophia, seeing Emily leave, immediately called Ryan. “Emily Carter! You’ve got what you wanted. Where’s the money? I asked you to investigate Michael Thompson’s secret wife, not this woman! Dig deeper!” She hung up, fuming.
Ryan, now desperate, found Sophia again. “You dare trick me, bitch? Where’s your promised return to Thompson Enterprises?”
Sophia’s eyes flashed. “Want to hit me? Come on. Aim right here.” She gestured to her face. Ryan hesitated, a coward. “Coward. Emily Carter is our common enemy. Only when she’s gone can I bring you back.”
“Emily Carter,” Ryan muttered, a dark look on his face. “What’s your next move?”
Sophia smiled. “Fine. This time I’ll make her suffer properly.”
The next day, office gossip was still in full swing. “About CEO Thompson’s divorce from his wife, what’s your take?”
“Not my business,” Emily replied, trying to focus on her work.
“Aren’t you into Mr. Thompson?” a colleague pressed. “If you like Mr. Thompson, go chase him! Stop harassing me all day.”
“If you don’t like Mr. Thompson, why keep clinging to him?” another taunted.
“I want to join the design department!” Emily burst out, frustrated. “You keep blocking me! Besides, I’m already married!”
The office went silent. “You’re married? When did this happen?!”
“It’s on my resume,” Emily said, exasperated. “So, can you please stop targeting me?”
Sophia, who had been listening, mused aloud, “Michael Thompson would never go for a married woman. I should focus on finding that mysterious lady first.” She then turned to Emily, a sly smile on her face. “Fine. By the way, you go to Redwood International to pick up Mr. Wilson.”
Redwood International? Mr. Wilson? Emily thought, puzzled.
Sophia continued, “Mr. Wilson is a key client. Treat him with care. Got it?”
“I’ll go,” Emily said, leaving immediately.
Sophia watched her go. “She’s already gone. Get ready.” She then made a call. “That’s Emily Carter. It’s her. Perfect. Leaving post during work hours. Let’s see where she’s really going.”
Emily arrived at Redwood International, a luxury hotel and convention center in Miami Beach. She found the room Sophia had indicated. “Mr. Wilson, are you awake? I’m here to pick you up.” She knocked gently.
A grunt came from inside. She tried the handle, but it was locked. “Mr. Wilson, stay back! Open the door!” she called, hearing some muffled sounds. She tried the front desk. “Get the key card at the front desk. Yes, Mr. Thompson.”
Just then, Michael Thompson appeared in the hallway, looking furious. “Emily Carter! I know you’re in there! Help!” His voice was sharp.
Emily was startled. “What’s Mr. Thompson doing here?”
Michael burst into the room, his eyes scanning Emily, who was looking flushed and disoriented. “Emily Carter, look at yourself! What kind of state is this?” He inhaled sharply. “What’s wrong with you? You smell amazing.”
Emily felt a strange heat building inside her. “Emily Carter, you… it’s so hot!”
“Emily Carter, calm down!” Michael commanded, pulling her away from the bed. “Set the AC to 60 degrees Fahrenheit!” he barked at a hotel employee who had followed him in.
“Mr. Thompson, this…” the employee stammered.
“She was probably drugged,” Michael stated, his expression grim. “I’ll take her to the hospital. Find out who was in that room!”
“Yes, Mr. Thompson,” Alex Johnson replied, who had also arrived.
Later, in a private room at a top-tier hospital in South Beach, Emily slowly opened her eyes. “You’re awake,” Michael said, sitting beside her.
“Why am I in a hospital?” Emily mumbled, her head still foggy.
“If I hadn’t brought you here, you’d have torn me apart,” Michael replied, a hint of exasperation in his voice. “Never thought you’d be so wild behind that innocent face.”
“What do you mean?” Emily asked, a blush creeping up her neck. You smell nice. Her mind reeled. What have I done? I actually forced a kiss on my boss!
Michael continued, oblivious to her internal panic. “Yesterday you swore to win our bet, then sneaked out during work to hook up with someone.”
“No!” Emily protested. “I went to pick up Mr. Wilson… Oh no, Mr. Wilson!”
Michael raised an eyebrow. “Mr. Wilson? I don’t recall any client named Mr. Wilson in our records. Nice try making up stories.”
“I’m not lying!” Emily insisted. “Then why was there a creep in the room?”
“I must have gone to the wrong room,” she realized, her memory slowly returning. “Who told you to meet Mr. Wilson?”
“Sophia.”
Michael immediately turned to Alex. “Alex Johnson, bring Sophia to the hospital.”
Sophia, who had been listening from outside the room, gasped. “What?! You incompetent idiot!” she muttered, realizing her plan had backfired. She quickly composed herself as Alex approached. “This wasn’t my fault, Miss. And Mr. Thompson wants to see you at the hospital.”
Back in Emily’s hospital room, Michael was carefully applying a cream to her face. “Mr. Thompson, the hospital is too dry. Could you pass me that?”
“Your hands are dirty,” Michael said, gently taking her hand. “Let me do it. Come here. Let me see your face.” He paused, looking at her intently. “You seem to really like this.” He was referring to the company’s new skincare product.
“Our company’s products are just that good,” Emily said, trying to diffuse the awkwardness. “Don’t think a few compliments will get you a permanent position.”
“Cheapskate,” Michael mumbled, a slight smirk on his face.
Just then, Sophia and Alex entered. “Mr. Thompson, I’ve brought them.”
Sophia, feigning innocence, asked, “Mr. Thompson, you wanted to see me?”
“Did you send Emily Carter to Redwood International Room 206?” Michael’s voice was devoid of emotion.
“Huh? I think that did happen,” Sophia stammered, trying to recall. “How come I haven’t heard that there’s a client named Mr. Wilson in our company?”
Бета-функция
