Chapter 9
Camila completely forgot to breathe, her face freezing in place as a piercing ringing echoed in her ears. She watched the moving lips of people around her, understanding nothing as if she were deaf.
Connor, with his long strides, was getting closer. In her sight, his tall figure gradually narrowed down to just his chest and above. She clearly saw his dark eyes flicker slightly, his lips tightly closed, his face devoid of any emotion. Text property © Nôvel(D)ra/ma.Org.
He passed by her like a breeze.
Alan followed Connor into the CEO’s office, followed by the sound of the door closing softly.
Camila suddenly gasped for air breathing heavily as if to refill the oxygen she had missed. She collapsed weakly into a chair, her heart pounding violently.
It really was him! Why was she so unlucky?
Was the world really this small? Her one night stand was with her own boss!
She turned her head to glance at the closed door. Had Connor recognized her just now?
In the CEO’s office.
“Who is she?” Connor’s brow furrowed almost imperceptibly
“Her?” Alan paused for half a second, realizing Connor was referring to Camila, and reported, “This is your new personal assistant, named Camila. She used to be the branch office manager, Mr. Cash’s assistant.”
Connor sat on the couch, one hand gently gripping his knee, the other running his fingers along the rim of his coffee mug, looking up at Alan. “You transferred her here?”
Yes,
Mr. Ray was aware that you had dismissed another personal assistant and was quite displeased. He called me over the weekend demanding a replacement within three days. HR couldn’t recruit in time. I’ve always heard that Mr. Cash’s assistant was meticulous and performed well, a real asset to him, and it turns out she’s also quite pleasing to the eye.”
Alan knew his face was not swayed by beauty, but he added that last comment anyway.
Connor thoughtfully stared at the coffee cup in front of him, his fingers tapping lightly. “Send me her resume.”
“Yes.”
Alan quickly opened his smartphone and sent the digital resume to him before exiting the CEO’s office.
Connor, after reading the resume, walked to the floor–to–ceiling windows and lit a cigarette, gazing out at the distant ocean view.
“Camila….Camila… Alan called out to Camila twice without a response and then tapped on her desk.
Camila’s thoughts snapped back. “Sorry.”
Alan placed a document on her desk, saying, “These are some of Mr. Connor’s personal habits. Just a friendly heads–up, Mr. Connor is not a morning person, so if you visit his house in the morning and he seems in a bad mood, it’s definitely not personal”
“Understood, thank you.”
Just as Camila opened the folder, the internal phone rang. She stared at the phone, her hand as heavy as if filled with lead.
“Mr. Connor wants you,” Alan said.
Camila took a deep breath, swallowed, and slowly picked up the handset.
“Come to my office. Connor spoke briefly and then hung up without waiting for her reply.
Camila felt an immense heaviness, a resistance bubbling up inside her as if bound by an invisible force. She took difficult steps towards the CEO’s office door, and knocked softly.
“Come in.”
Camila pushed the door open, noticing Conner standing in front of the spacious, bright, floor–to–ceiling window. The sunlight streamed through the glass, casting his tall, upright figure in silhouette.
He stood there, one hand in his pocket, the other holding a cigarette, a faint scent of tobacco lingering around him.