Amidst the sunlit expanse of the manor, Cornelius's gaze lingered on Rosalinda, who continued to tend to the vibrant crimson rose. The air seemed charged with an unspoken connection, a thread woven between the stoic CEO and the graceful gardener. However, before this silent exchange could deepen, a distinct knocking sound echoed through the office.
Butler Pierre, impeccable in his demeanor, entered the room with a deferential bow. His presence, though interrupting the enchanting tableau, carried an air of practiced discretion.
Pierre: My apologies for the intrusion, sir. There's an urgent matter that requires your attention.
Cornelius, torn from the reverie of the garden, inclined his head in acknowledgment. The fleeting connection with Rosalinda dissipated, leaving behind a subtle tension that hung in the air.
Cornelius: What is it, Pierre?
Pierre: (with a controlled urgency) Sir, there's a call from the Montgomery office. It appears to be of utmost importance.
Cornelius, ever the embodiment of responsibility, nodded in understanding.
Cornelius: Very well. Attend to it and ensure I'm not disturbed unless necessary.
Pierre: Of course, sir.
As the butler exited the room, Cornelius's gaze lingered on the open window. The garden below held its secrets, the crimson rose now a silent witness to a moment interrupted. He sighed, the weight of his duties settling upon his shoulders.
Meanwhile, in the garden, Rosalinda continued her meticulous work. The sunlit blooms seemed to reflect the dance of emotions that had unfolded mere moments ago. She stole a glance towards the window, where Cornelius had stood, now replaced by the emptiness of the room.
The garden, bathed in the golden glow of the afternoon sun, carried the remnants of a connection interrupted. The vibrant crimson rose, cradling the memory of stolen glances, stood amidst a sea of blossoms, waiting for the narrative to unfold further.
As Cornelius delved into the urgent matters at hand, and Rosalinda resumed her gardening duties, the manor continued its silent orchestration of stories and secrets. The interruption, a brief interlude in the grand symphony of emotions, hinted at the complexities yet to be unraveled within its historic walls.