It was a bustling Monday morning, yet Sylvia, the boss of a thriving marketing firm, didn't roll into the office until noon.
Her team, accustomed to her punctuality and dedication, couldn't help but whisper among themselves, wondering if their usually
reliable boss had been whisked away on a romantic rendezvous.
Sylvia let the playful banter slide off her as she settled into her office chair, burying herself in work without even stepping out for
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtlunch.
Her assistant mistook her boss's diligence for overtzeal and brought her lunch with words of praise.
Rubbing her aching legs, Sylvia kept her cool. She could have made it to work on tthis morning, but the sight of him emerging
shirtless from the bathroom had made her rethink her priorities. It was like those ancient tales where kings would forsake their
thrones for a beauty—except now, she was the one beguiled into playing hooky for a few precious hours.
"Life's little pleasures," she mused, a wry smile tugging at her lips. She took a sip of her coffee and refocused on the day's tasks.
The afternoon flew by, and as the day wound down, Eugene called to invite her out for dinner.
"I'm beat today. Maybe another time?" Sylvia demurred.
Eugene's voice was warm and patient. "It's not just dinner, Sylvia. A friend's firm is looking for a reliable PR partner, and I've
rmended you. He's free tonight, perfect tto meet and chat."
Business called, and Sylvia didn't hesitate. "Sure, where are we meeting?"
"9th Mansion. We all know it well," Eugene replied.
"See you in a bit," she said, and with that, she was out the door, ready for the evening's engagement.
By the tGabriel arrived at the 9th Mansion, the sky had deepened to a velvety black.
—— The price is only 1/4 of what others charge —
*D Reading History
No history.