NovelEnglishAfter Joyce left in the elevator, Charlotte took a few deep breaths to calm herself down.
No matter how much she hated Joyce in her heart, she just could not at least show it in front of Luther.
She went to the secretary's desk and asked the secretary to make an intecall into Luther's office to inform her that she
needed to see Luther.
It took a long tafter the secretary called Luther before he finally answered.
After hanging up the phone, the secretary stood up and said to Charlotte with a smile, "The president said that you should wait in
the reception room downstairs, and he will be there in half an hour."
Charlotte froze.
What did that mean? She's an outsider? She could only go to the reception room?
She was not even qualified to enter his office?
"lI can't go in?" Charlotte could no longer keep the bitterness she felt from showing up on her face, pointing uncertainly at the door
to the president's exclusive office. The shutters were still tightly closed. She couldn't see what was going on inside at all.
"I'm sorry, that's what the president meant." The secretary was very polite. After all, Charlotte was the Heath family's daughter.
With all the commotion in the room just now, they had guessed what was happening inside. After all, why would they ever need to
close the blinds?
It was just obvious how close the president with Joyce, and how indifferent the president was towards Charlotte.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtAlthough they had been talking about it in private, they would never dare to show their mockery in front of Charlotte.
"Okay, | got it, I'll go wait for him downstairs now, thanks." Charlotte tried her best to blossom into a smile. When she turned
around, her eyes were already burning with a vicious flame.
She did not need to take the elevator to get to the reception room downstairs, because the penthouse was actually a duplex
structure and she could simply take the internal stairs down.
Charlotte walked down the revolving staircase and sat down on the coach in the reception room.
Waiting in anger was a torment, and the more she thought about it, the angrier she was, she waited for about half an hour.
Luther cdown the revolving staircase.
She could see that he seemed to have just taken a shower, and he looked so handswith his chiseled, profound features, and
slightly wet and half-dry hair. As he approached, he emitted a refreshing smell of mint body wash.
She was fascinated, could not move her eyes, and even her feet seemed to have been glued to the floor.
Joyce cout of his office disheveled and flushed, and his inexplicable shower in the morning was more evidence of what had
just happened to them.
Charlotte bit her lower lip until it turned white, her fingers shaking slightly.
Luther coughed softly, "What do you want?"
His tone was detached and there was a chill in his voice.
Charlotte bowed her head and whispered, "You weren't answering my calls, so | had to cto you."
"Yeah? | never take calls outside of work and | didn't notice your call." Luther casually brushed it off.
Charlotte looked even more gloomy, and he didn't even bother to make an excuse.
Not answering calls outside of work? Could he not answer Joyce's calls? Not noticing her calls, was that possible? She had called a
dozen times in the past few days, how could he not see it?
She wanted to pretend to be unwell in front of him, the old dry heaving trick, but finally she thought better of it, afraid that he was
more disgusted.
"If you need anything, just say it. I'm busy." Seeing that she hesitated to speak, he said impatiently.
With that, he stood up, "If you think of anything, you can ask your secretary to pass it on to me."
"Wait." Seeing that he was in a hurry to leave, Charlotte hurriedly stood up to stop, "Actually, my grandfather and my mother want
to meet you."
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