"You're late again, moron!" Cassandra yelled.
"I'm so sorry," Marissa apologized. "I had to deliver the spices you gave me to your friends, and I also stopped to pick up your laundry."
"Why don't you just admit you're late because I sent you on a simple errand?"
"Well, yes, Cassandra," Marissa replied. "Delivering the spices wasn't easy. Your friends live far apart, and I had to deliver each one personally. You could have used a delivery service, but you insisted I handle it myself."
"Oh, I see you're getting sharp-mouthed now, huh?" Cassandra snapped. "Don't worry, I'll deal with you soon. Get me that document on the table and follow me." She stormed out of the office.
"Where are we going, Cassandra?" Marissa asked, grabbing the document and hurrying after her.
Cassandra ignored her, heading straight to the garage. She pulled out her car keys but stopped and groaned.
"Ugh, I was supposed to meet Simon today! I can't believe I forgot because of this stupid business deal Mom asked me to represent her on."
Just then, her phone rang.
"Simon, darling!" Cassandra cooed into the phone. "I'm so sorry, baby. I'm on my way now—I had a lot to handle at the office."
As soon as she hung up, Marissa asked, "What about your meeting with Rodrigo's company?"
"You'll represent me," Cassandra said nonchalantly.
"But Cassandra," Marissa protested, "your mom specifically said you should attend yourself. And I'm just your assistant—I'm not supposed to handle such high-level meetings."
"Yes, you're my assistant. So when I can't attend a meeting, you're supposed to handle it," Cassandra replied dismissively, silencing Marissa.
---
At 12:20 PM, Matthew checked his watch for the hundredth time and frowned.
"This is so unprofessional. Why is she so late?"
Marissa arrived at the small but sophisticated restaurant. The atmosphere clearly catered to business professionals rather than casual diners or romantics. Not knowing what Matthew looked like, she pulled out her phone and dialed his number, which Cassandra had given her.
"Hello, this is the representative from De La Cruz Company. Am I speaking to Mr. Matthew Rodrigo?"
"Yes, you are," Matthew replied.
"I'm at the restaurant now. Can you direct me to your table?"
"Kindly come upstairs, Miss Cassandra," Matthew answered.
Marissa headed upstairs. The quiet professionalism of the space matched the atmosphere downstairs. She spotted a man waving at her with his phone still to his ear. Approaching him, she greeted him with a handshake.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Rodrigo. I'm so sorry for keeping you waiting."
"It's alright, Miss Cassandra. The important thing is that you're here now. Let's get started," Matthew said, gesturing for her to sit.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Rodrigo," Marissa began, "but I'm not Miss Cassandra. I'm her assistant, and I'm here to represent her."
Matthew scoffed. "They sent an assistant for a deal this significant?"
"I'm sorry if that disappoints you, but yes," Marissa replied calmly. "Shall we proceed?"
---
After about an hour of discussion, a frustrated Matthew leaned back in his chair.
"Miss Marissa, our offer is unique and exclusive. It's unlike anything you'll find elsewhere," he said, staring at her, hoping to intimidate her.
Marissa, unfazed, stared back and said, "While your offer may be exclusive to your customers, what does it provide for ours?"
Matthew's frustration deepened. The fact that Cassandra sent her assistant instead of attending personally was bad enough, but now this assistant was smart, confident, and unyielding.
He decided to use his special ability.
Taking a sip of his drink, he set the glass down, fixed his gaze on Marissa, and said firmly, "Give me your employer's number."
He blinked, confident it would work. Instead, Marissa replied, "I can't give you her number without her consent."
Matthew was stunned. "Wait, what?" he thought. It was the first time his power hadn't worked. Maybe he hadn't done it right.
He tried again, staring deeper into her eyes. "Miss Marissa, I need Miss Cassandra De La Cruz's number. Give it to me."
"Mr. Rodrigo," Marissa said, unfazed, "you may have nice eyes, but they won't convince me to give you my employer's number."
She stood abruptly. "This meeting is over. I'll inform my employer of what transpired. She alone will decide how to proceed. Goodbye, Mr. Rodrigo."
Marissa walked away confidently, leaving Matthew bewildered.