"What the hell are you doing?!" Mr. Ferguson yelled, throwing a stack of papers at Emma. "You should have prepared this ahead of time!"
"I'm sorry, sir." Emma kept her head down, unable to defend herself. She had actually prepared all the documents and handed them to Mr. Ferguson before they flew to Pawis, but he'd lost the papers during the flight. Now he was blaming her for not having made an extra copy, just in case.
"'Sorry' won't fix this!" Mr. Ferguson's voice echoed down the hallway near the meeting room. "The investors are furious because they had to wait for you to print out this entire stack of papers!"
Emma kept her mouth shut, her mind racing. What was she supposed to say? It wasn't entirely her fault, but Mr. Ferguson was clearly looking for someone to blame in case the investment meeting fell through.
"You're coming in with me. Do whatever it takes to get their attention…" Mr. Ferguson's words made Emma look up sharply.
"What do you mean, sir?" she asked, her brow furrowing. She hoped she was misinterpreting his implication.
"My words were clear. Make sure this investment goes through." He turned to leave, then paused, glancing back with a smirk. "And if you need to follow up with them afterward, do it. It's not as if you're unfamiliar with that kind of thing."
Her heart sank as his words echoed in her mind: 'It's not as if you're unfamiliar with that kind of thing.' A wave of disbelief washed over her, making her sneer silently. Emma couldn't believe what she'd just heard, the disrespect laced in every word.
Emma clenched the papers in her hand, her knuckles turning white. Not unfamiliar with that kind of thing? The insinuation was as clear as it was insulting, and it stung even more knowing he was alluding to the office gossip about her "sugar daddy."
The rumours had followed her for months. People could talk all they wanted, but hearing it thrown in her face by her own boss was another matter.
She lifted her chin, biting back the retort that lingered on her lips. Not here, not now, she reminded herself. She would show him her professionalism in that meeting room, not by stooping to his level. With a steadying breath, Emma smoothed the papers, set her expression to one of calm composure, and walked toward the meeting room.
During the entire meeting, Emma remained silent in her seat, waiting for any task her boss might assign. Her mind did wander several times, trying to stay alert and avoid feeling sleepy. As she glanced down at the investment proposal, she absentmindedly underlined unnecessary words until her eyes landed on the word "key."
"Key..." she mumbled softly, her eyes rolling upward as the thought drifted through her mind. "Key to his heart," she continued murmuring, the phrase suddenly nagging at her.
"Miss Rowan?" A man's voice broke the silence in the meeting room. All eyes turned to Emma. "Whose heart do you need a key for?"
Instantly, Emma stood up and bowed her head. "I'm sorry, sir! I didn't mean to disturb the meeting." She bowed again, this time almost ninety degrees.
The man laughed. He appeared to be in his sixties. "I was just joking. At least it helped break the monotony." He stood up, "I will get back as fast as tomorrow to you, Mr. Ferguson, our new CEO was supposed to come today, but he informed us that he will be reporting for duty starting tomorrow." He grabbed the proposal and turned before pausing, "And Miss Rowan…"
"Yes, sir!" Emma's eyes blinked profusely, as much as her heart was beating at that moment.
The man chuckled, seeing her nervous reaction. "Hope you find the key." His smile widened before he continued walking out of the meeting room.
Emma's lips were moving, but no words slipped out. She was speechless for a few seconds before she snapped back into action and bowed again, even though the man had already left the room.
Mr. Ferguson turned around and looked at her. "You looked so happy. I guess it really is easy for you," he smirked, his words clearly carrying a double meaning.
The moment he turned, Emma quickly grabbed the mini bottle of mineral water that had been served earlier, her hand already swinging back as if to throw it in a fit of annoyance. But just as she was about to, Mr. Ferguson turned back around, and she awkwardly placed the bottle back down, forcing a tight smile to cover her irritation.
"Tomorrow… I'm supposed to show my wife around Pawis, but since this came up, you'll do it." He ordered as if it were her duty to fulfil.
Emma forced an awkward smile, but deep inside her mind, she was fuming. 'This baldy Ferguson! You come here to work, bring your wife along, and now I'm supposed to be her tour guide?'
"Are you cursing me in your mind?" Mr. Ferguson asked, catching the way she was staring at him.
"Oh no, no, sir! Of course not," Emma replied, quickly recovering with her usual professional smile. "I'd be happy to show her around Pawis."
"Use the company card if she wants anything. I'll pay it back later," he said before finally leaving for real this time.
Emma rolled her eyes. "Like hell you will," she muttered under her breath. With a sigh, she added, "Now, I get to babysit this gold-digger wife who married him just for money, and he still thinks it's love…" She paused, then continued with a sing-song voice, "No, this is not love…"
She moved to the front of the meeting table, gathering all the leftover proposals.
"What love?" A sudden voice from behind startled her, making her jump.
"Oh my gosh!" she nearly shouted when she turned and saw who it was. "Let's be real here—what are you? A ghost?" Her eyes were wide with shock. She could have sworn she hadn't heard a single footstep approaching.
"Have you ever seen a handsome ghost before? Well, consider yourself lucky—I'm right here," he said with a grin, leaning slightly against the table.
She frowned at his cheesy line. "No, thanks." She turned away, picking up the last proposal, then paused and looked back at him. "Wait, this is actually getting creepy. How did you get in here?"