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Chapter 4: Lend Me Your Assistant

Author: WALDA
last update Last Updated: 2024-04-08 08:52:51

Prisley felt a chill run down her spine as she walked out. Her back stiffened.

As she closed the door behind her, the sound of breaking glass echoed from the office and made her heart skip a beat. She frowned, knowing that Heather had exploded in anger.

Prisley walked over to the Secretariat and spoke to Lisa, a secretary. "Lisa, let everyone know not to enter the president's office for the next twenty minutes."

Lisa's eyes widened in surprise. "Is he mad again?"

Prisley nodded. "Yes. Tell the janitorial staff to be ready." With that, she went back to her office.

Heather's temper was unpredictable. Sometimes, he would fly into a rage for no apparent reason. Prisley was the only one who could calm him down.

No matter how angry Heather got, a few gentle words from Prisley would restore his peace. This earned Prisley the nickname "Firefighter" among her colleagues.

But this time, she was the cause of the fire.

Back at her desk, Prisley hid her face behind a folder and let the tears flow. It was her way of venting when she felt wronged. It was her only outlet. She never showed her vulnerability to the outside world.

Today, she cried longer than usual. After she cried enough, she wiped away her tears, went to the bathroom to clean her face, and touched up her makeup.

The scenes of intimacy on the bed were still fresh in her mind. Moments ago, Heather and she had been lost in pleasure there, but now they had turned against each other. At the thought, tears rolled down her cheeks again.

"Heather, I love you, but I can't accept this kind of relationship," she said to herself sadly.

Heather smashed a display case with a crystal ornament, scattering his beloved collection all over the floor. How dare she defy him? Money and property couldn't buy her a smile. And she insisted on leaving!

She used to be so obedient, so easily pleased... Heather felt irritated. He swept everything off his desk and forcefully loosened his tie.

After a moment, Heather chuckled to himself. "What's the big deal? She was just a pet in my hands. A tantrum now and then was kind of cute.”

He would buy her a gift later to make her happy again.

Figuring it was time, Prisley carried a stack of documents to the president's office. As she reached the door, she heard loud laughter from inside. It was Heather and Steve, another vice president of the company.

Steve joked, "Heather, now that Filla is back, why not give me your assistant?"

Heather laughed, "Steve, remember, I've never liked sharing my toys with you since I was a kid."

"With so many beautiful women in the company, you just throw money at whoever catches your eye. Once you’ve thrown more than enough, they'll crawl obediently into your bed."

"Did you do the same to her?"

"Pretty much, didn't hold back on the spending."

The frivolous laughter filled the office.

Steve and Heather had been childhood friends, practically inseparable.

Hearing herself being openly discussed made Prisley feel exposed and embarrassed, as if she had been stripped naked and put on display.

She took a deep breath and knocked on the door. The frivolous laughter inside stopped abruptly.

"President Rynn, there are some less urgent documents that need your review. And regarding Warner Tech, I wonder if you have a moment to hear my report?"

Prisley's fingertips felt cold as she handed over the files. She felt burning eyes on her back, scanning her like an x-ray machine.

Heather's earlier cheerfulness faded as he coldly replied, "Go ahead, Steven is no stranger."

Prisley handed the documents to Heather and Steve, then began her presentation.

"The downsizing plan proposed by Warner Tech's HR director is not feasible," Prisley declared, meeting Heather and Steve's gaze.

Heather and Steve exchanged looks. "Warner's software and product solutions are quite mature. Although there may be some redundancy in non-production areas, I believe we should increase our investment in R&D rather than follow the HR Director's suggestion."

"I have investigated our competitors' R&D investments and market prospects. The data is all in the report. If we play it safe, we could face a crisis in less than two years."

"I have outlined the costs and expenses of both plans for comparison. Now, it's up to you to decide."

With that, Prisley looked at the two in front of her. Heather studied the report, while Steve's expression changed from frivolous to approving.

"You're not afraid of upsetting Warner Tech's HR director? He's on David's side." Steve teased.

Prisley smiled contemptuously. "I can always be fired," she replied, giving Heather a meaningful look before turning to leave.

"Hey, Prisley, wait," Steve called after her, his eyes still a little drunk from their conversation. He looked at Heather. "I’ve got a cocktail party tonight, and I need someone to go with me. Can I borrow your assis...?"

"No," Heather cut him off, cold and determined.

"Come on, Heather, don't be so stingy. It's an important event tonight. Some big names are coming. I'm doing this for the company. You know I don't have a suitable date for such an occasion like this" Steve pleaded.

Prisley knew Steve was never short of company, but finding someone to accompany him to a high-end business cocktail party might be a challenge indeed.

After a few seconds of thought, Heather relented. "Fine, but you pay her overtime," he said, his displeasure was obvious.

Steve whistled happily. "Great! Prisley, I'll pick you up after work."

Prisley replied with a professional smile before leaving. Overtime pay, these rich dandies knew how to make fun of others.

Before leaving work, Prisley changed into her evening gown, accessorized with jewelry, and applied light makeup before heading to Heather's office.

During working hours, Prisley always dressed in standard administrative attire, opting for knee-length pencil skirts and never deliberately displaying her beauty or sensuality.

Her wardrobe consisted mostly of loose-fitting dresses for her off-work clothes. She wore form-fitting dresses that accentuated her graceful curves only on formal occasions.

Heather looked at her plunging gown and the sparkling diamond necklace for a while. His face darkened. He absentmindedly wrapped his arm around Prisley's waist for a while, then said in a subdued tone, "Go change into another dress."

"Why? I've worn this one before," Prisley asked.

"You're going out with Steve tonight," Heather replied, his tone tinged with impatience and firmness.

"What's the difference?"

"Of course there is a difference." He sounded slightly impatient, his tone becoming more forceful. Prisley could only return to her office and change into another dress.

Despite being the president of a large corporation, Heather privately lacks a sense of personal security. He underwent rigorous family training from a young age. While others were playing with toys, he was already doing business analysis.

His biological mother disappeared after a divorce when he was young, and his stepmother, Steve's biological mother, treated him with only superficial courtesy.

His father, the man who trained him from childhood, died suddenly of a heart attack five years ago, leaving young Heather a vast empire.

He has always wrapped his fragile heart in a tough exterior, never revealing his true self to the outside world. It wasn't until he met Prisley that he felt real warmth in his heart and allowed himself to show a little vulnerability on occasion.

Heather felt uncomfortable at the thought of Steve, the playboy, holding Prisley's beautiful body that belonged to him. But he couldn't let such a thing lead to an argument with Steve. He had no choice but to ask Prisley to change her outfit into something less revealing.

Prisley had to go back to her office and put on a dress that didn't highlight her figure as much.

"How about this?" Prisley asked.

Heather stared at her for a few seconds. "Prisley, you don't have to go tonight," he said sullenly.

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