It was Sylvan Cheney who personally opened the door.
"Co in." He walked into the office.
Jasmine Yale followed him in, noticing the neatly arranged docunts on the desk, all of which she had left behind.
"Thank you, President. I’ll take these." She slowly walked to the side of the desk.
Sylvan Cheney placed his hand on the items, leaned closer to her, and fixed his eyes on hers: "You co and go from the CEO’s office as you please? What do you think this place is? Hmm?"
Jasmine Yale lifted her head, eting his deep and brooding gaze.
She smiled slightly: "What else? Is the CEO’s office a palace? You need a beauty contest to enter?"
"If it relied on a beauty contest, I don’t think you would’ve even touched the door." Sylvan Cheney glanced at her.
He was very close to her, and as he spoke, his warm breath brushed against her face.
Jasmine Yale’s heart fluttered.
The unspoken allure was the most fatal.
"So, President, you’re not willing to give the docunts? These are actually for you to see. If you don’t want them, that’s fine; I have copies on my computer."
"Where did that dumb bear run off to?"
"Hmm?" Jasmine Yale was confused. What dumb bear? A strange question.
Sylvan Cheney looked at the storage box: "Did you ss with my storage box?"
Jasmine Yale suddenly realized: "That’s not a dumb bear, that’s a plush bear. Besides, it was my item to begin with; I only took my own stuff."
"Taking back sothing given to soone else? Jasmine Yale, I’ve never seen soone like you. This behavior is akin to breaking promises and lacking integrity, understand? How can one establish oneself in society if they break their word? Do you also break promises and lack credibility when doing projects? Whether it’s I or any company hiring, integrity is prioritized above all, do you understand?"
Jasmine Yale was dumbfounded.
Why all of a sudden... she felt like a sinner, untrustworthy, lacking integrity, and breaking promises.
Her long eyelashes fluttered, sowhat incredulous.
"If you realize you’re wrong, return my item tomorrow. If you don’t correct your mistake, I don’t think you need to co to work tomorrow!"
"No..." Jasmine Yale was bewildered, "That keychain was originally mine; why should I return it to you?"
"Then answer , did you take it from my storage box?"
"Well... yes..."
"If you took sothing from , shouldn’t you return it?"
"I..." Jasmine Yale was speechless, unable to refute.
"I don’t intend to fuss over you taking my thing. I’m not a petty person." Sylvan Cheney looked at her, appearing calm and composed. "I went through your notebook. Well, bad handwriting aside, as handwriting reflects one’s character, but with so many errors, do you think that’s acceptable? Hmm?"
Jasmine Yale froze and lowered her head: "You looked through my notebook?"
Sylvan Cheney chuckled.
Suddenly, Jasmine Yale’s face turned crimson.
It wasn’t so much about the errors, but she had doodled so strange things and written bizarre sentences in her notebook, like "Sylvan Cheney, bastard."
These were written a long ti ago, and she had almost forgotten about them.
Whenever she lacked inspiration for a project, she’d doodle in her notebook.
"What, feeling guilty?"
"No, President, can I go downstairs now? The afternoon tea ti is almost over."
"Seven o’clock tonight, et at the Tea Cafe." Sylvan Cheney finally let go.
Jasmine Yale was montarily stunned, then quickly pulled out her docunts and notebook, afraid he’d change his mind.
User Comments
0 comments from readers