Protect His Secretary, Abandon His Wife - Chapter 5: Chapter 5
You are reading Protect His Secretary, Abandon His Wife, Chapter 5: Chapter 5. Read more chapters of Protect His Secretary, Abandon His Wife.
"Is this about last week?" he asked, narrowing his eyes. "You know I keep my professional and personal lives separate."
His words brought back that awful memory from seven days ago. We'd been in a crucial meeting - David's big chance to poach a major client from Smith Group. The tension was palpable. When they tapped me to present our project, my hands were shaking so badly I could barely click through the slides. I kept glancing at David for reassurance, but his expression stayed icy - like I was just another replaceable employee. Meanwhile, he was whispering with Cinthia, that infuriating smirk playing on his lips while I was sweating bullets for him.
Mid-presentation, I noticed David hacking into his fist - he always caught colds easily. My instincts kicked in; I grabbed the coffee I'd prepared earlier and moved toward him. Then - bam! - Cinthia's leg shot out, sending me stumbling. The scalding liquid arced through the air before splattering across the client's crisp white shirt.
The room went dead silent. I could hear my own heartbeat pounding in my ears as every head swiveled toward me. The client's expression morphed from shock to disgust while my knees threatened to give out.
"I'm so sorry!" I whispered, voice cracking.
David's face turned crimson. "Rosaline!" he bellowed, his voice ricocheting off the walls. "What the hell is wrong with you? How many times do I have to tell you to watch what you're doing?"
To his credit, the client tried to diffuse things, dabbing at his stained shirt. "Really, it's fine - accidents happen."
But David was beyond reason. This deal meant everything to him - his chance to one-up Smith Group - and in his mind, I'd just torched it.
"You're a walking liability," he spat, each word laced with venom. "An embarrassment. I must be an idiot to have kept you on this long."
Hot tears spilled down my cheeks as eight years of loyalty evaporated before my eyes. All those late nights, canceled plans, giving my entire life to this company - gone in an instant.
"Get out," David hissed. "I can't even look at you right now. Should've let Cinthia handle this from the start."
The words hit like a physical blow. Gathering my things with trembling hands, I fled as David's damage control echoed behind me: "My deepest apologies - she's clearly not cut out for this work. Rest assured she'll have no further involvement."
The muffled laughter chased me down the hall, each chuckle like a knife between my ribs. Of course, the meeting continued without me. And of course, David still lost the deal - the client politely informed him our proposal wasn't up to snuff. But naturally, he and Cinthia blamed me for "ruining the mood."
The irony? As I'd been leaving that day, the client slipped me his card. "You've got real talent," he'd murmured. "But you're wasting it here. My door's always open."
Now, staring at David's stony face, I gave a bitter smile. "You're absolutely right - you do keep things professional. Clearly I'm not qualified to work here. Consider this my resignation."
His words brought back that awful memory from seven days ago. We'd been in a crucial meeting - David's big chance to poach a major client from Smith Group. The tension was palpable. When they tapped me to present our project, my hands were shaking so badly I could barely click through the slides. I kept glancing at David for reassurance, but his expression stayed icy - like I was just another replaceable employee. Meanwhile, he was whispering with Cinthia, that infuriating smirk playing on his lips while I was sweating bullets for him.
Mid-presentation, I noticed David hacking into his fist - he always caught colds easily. My instincts kicked in; I grabbed the coffee I'd prepared earlier and moved toward him. Then - bam! - Cinthia's leg shot out, sending me stumbling. The scalding liquid arced through the air before splattering across the client's crisp white shirt.
The room went dead silent. I could hear my own heartbeat pounding in my ears as every head swiveled toward me. The client's expression morphed from shock to disgust while my knees threatened to give out.
"I'm so sorry!" I whispered, voice cracking.
David's face turned crimson. "Rosaline!" he bellowed, his voice ricocheting off the walls. "What the hell is wrong with you? How many times do I have to tell you to watch what you're doing?"
To his credit, the client tried to diffuse things, dabbing at his stained shirt. "Really, it's fine - accidents happen."
But David was beyond reason. This deal meant everything to him - his chance to one-up Smith Group - and in his mind, I'd just torched it.
"You're a walking liability," he spat, each word laced with venom. "An embarrassment. I must be an idiot to have kept you on this long."
Hot tears spilled down my cheeks as eight years of loyalty evaporated before my eyes. All those late nights, canceled plans, giving my entire life to this company - gone in an instant.
"Get out," David hissed. "I can't even look at you right now. Should've let Cinthia handle this from the start."
The words hit like a physical blow. Gathering my things with trembling hands, I fled as David's damage control echoed behind me: "My deepest apologies - she's clearly not cut out for this work. Rest assured she'll have no further involvement."
The muffled laughter chased me down the hall, each chuckle like a knife between my ribs. Of course, the meeting continued without me. And of course, David still lost the deal - the client politely informed him our proposal wasn't up to snuff. But naturally, he and Cinthia blamed me for "ruining the mood."
The irony? As I'd been leaving that day, the client slipped me his card. "You've got real talent," he'd murmured. "But you're wasting it here. My door's always open."
Now, staring at David's stony face, I gave a bitter smile. "You're absolutely right - you do keep things professional. Clearly I'm not qualified to work here. Consider this my resignation."
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