Robert Thomson was such a rational and rigid person; she had experienced this quite clearly during these ten years.
He would never do something like this. If it really happened, it would be unprecedented!
She was the first person who could make Robert Thomson disregard his work in the office to such an extent!
Surprise only lasted for a moment. In the next second, he immediately hid his emotions, bowed, and said, "Mr. Thomson, there's a meeting at 3:30 in the clubhouse on the top floor of the Roman Holiday."
"I know. You go and prepare."
There was a brief silence in the office. Just when Emma Smith was about to speak, Robert Thomson had already taken his suit jacket from the hanger nearby.
"Are you going out?" Emma Smith noticed his movements and immediately stood up to meet him.
"Yes." Robert Thomson was already dressed neatly in a silver suit, linen shirt, and his well-fitted hairstyle, looking every bit of a successful businessman who had everything under control.
"Then I..."
He glanced at her, and this woman, in just a moment, changed from seductive charm back to calm and cool detachment.
The speed of her transformation between work and "catering" to him surprised him with her excellent "professional qualities."
But still, it wasn't enough.
An excellent secretary who only took care of his private life and handled official duties obviously wasn't enough.
He frowned, but then, as if remembering something, an evil smile appeared on his face: "Follow me."
Was she really a woman who was willing to play games?
—Or was everything she'd done, including throwing herself into his arms last night, insisting on the 30% down payment, and her ambiguous behavior just now, all for his "special attention"?
If she wanted that 30% advance, she had to let him see if she was really worth the price!
=============I am the gorgeous separator===========
"Robert, where are we going?"
Sitting in the back seat of his car, Emma Smith asked with some confusion.
"You'll know when we get there!" Robert Thomson leaned lazily on the couch, his arm around the woman's waist, holding her close to his chest, his eyes glittering with calculating light.
"I just want to prepare a little for the upcoming work!" Her heart was slightly uneasy, but she still couldn't figure out his thoughts.
"Oh?" His voice trailed off, as if accompanied by a lazy, frivolous aftertaste. Robert Thomson's slender fingers gently stroked his chin, seemingly lost in thought. Then, his gaze shifted and focused on her, emotionless as if she were merely an object of scientific observation under his scrutiny.
"Hmm." He nodded, "Your outfit is indeed not quite suitable—"
Emma was dressed in a white blouse, a pencil skirt, skin-colored stockings, and black high heels—a typical office lady (OL) outfit that was indistinguishable from others.
Robert Thomson snapped his fingers lightly: "Christopher, let's go to the third floor of Roma International Mall first. I need to pick a dress for her."
Christopher Wilson, who was driving, nodded with his usual calm expression, seemingly accustomed to all of this.
Emma Smith raised her eyes to look at his evil smile, that merciless side profile, and she vaguely felt that the journey ahead wouldn't be smooth. Her heart was sinking gradually.