Chapter 2

With that, I opened Microsoft Word and started pretending to be busy.

I did not expect that with five minutes left until the end of the workday, Summer would already be standing beside me with her bag slung over her shoulder.

"Wait, why haven't you started packing up? Do I seriously have to wait for you?"

Annoyed, I crossed my arms and looked at her. "Summer, I told you this morning, I'm not a good driver."

She snorted, pulled out her phone, and played a video for me. The footage showed me driving into the company garage that morning, smoothly reversing into a parking spot in one go.

"Liar. I went to the security room and checked the surveillance footage. You parked in one move. Even my husband has to adjust twice! Stop wasting my time and let's go!"

The moment I saw her, my anger had already been simmering. After all this, though? I could not hold it in anymore.

I stood up and glared at her.

"Summer! Doesn't your husband have a car? Why isn't he driving you?! Is the kid not his? If you want a ride, fine! Pay me like you would for a private chauffeur! And sign a liability waiver. If anything happens to you in my car, I'm not responsible!"

Summer was stunned by my sudden change in attitude. She stared at me in shock, her lips trembling, unable to respond.

After a long pause, she finally snapped, "Alright, you dare talk to me like this? Just you wait!"

Then, she stormed off, one hand cradling her belly, the other supporting her waist.

I had never been pregnant before, but come on… Three weeks in, and she was already acting like this?

I knew she would not bother me again today, so I happily packed my bag, ready to head home.

Just then, a colleague walked over and whispered, "Sophia, Summer is infamous in this building. She's a nightmare to deal with, but since there are a lot of us, she can't pick on just one person for too long. Just go along with it; you really don't need to argue with her. You're only making things hard for yourself."

It was Harold.

I rolled my eyes at him. "Your car really in the shop?"

He glanced at the HR department and made sure Summer had left. He then scratched his head sheepishly and chuckled.

I sighed, exasperated. "So you'd rather not drive at all and make up a lame excuse than just outright refuse her ridiculous request? Is everyone else like this too?"

He nodded helplessly.

Other colleagues, overhearing our conversation, started gathering around, venting about Summer's antics.

Apparently, there was a time when she had food poisoning, vomiting, and diarrhea. The hospital confirmed it was caused by undercooked food she ate the night before. She had bought it in a group order with other colleagues, so the next day, she showed up with a reimbursement form, demanding they split her medical expenses.

She was even more outrageous as of late. She used to live near the office, but after moving farther away, coincidentally right when she got pregnant, she took advantage of her position to pull a list of colleagues who drove nice cars and created a carpool schedule for them to take turns driving her.

If anyone refused? Their attendance records for the month would mysteriously be marked with absences.

The more I listened, the deeper my frown became.

An HR specialist… with this much power?

I looked at my frustrated colleagues and asked, "You're the ones enabling her. What, just because she's pregnant, she gets a free pass? Or is the baby yours?"

Harold turned pale with fright and waved his hands frantically. "Hey, don't joke like that! You don't understand, she's got connections."

That piqued my curiosity.

Seeing my eyes light up, Harold lowered his voice and whispered, "She's the niece of our big boss, Manson Leeds. His actual niece."

… Huh?

She was Manson's niece?

Then who was I?

It only took a few days of observation for me to piece things together.

A few days later, my uncle returned from an overseas business trip. As soon as he got back, he messaged me to come to his office.

When I pushed open the door, Summer was already there, tidying up the office.

Seeing me enter, my uncle told her, "Summer, step out for a moment. Take the chocolates on the desk and share them around. I bought them abroad."

Summer shot me a glare of pure resentment before grudgingly picking up the chocolates and walking out.

However, before she left, she conveniently left a reimbursement form on the desk.

One glance told me it was for the taxi fare from the day I refused to give her a ride.