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Though it felt strange, she didn’t dwell on it and followed him up.
The upper floor had a master bedroom, two guest rooms, and a study.
The master bedroom was naturally for Zarek.
Charlotte chose one of the guest rooms, set her suitcase inside, then went to the master bedroom to unpack her boss’s clothes.
Over the past few days, she’d thoroughly studied the “CEO Preference Guide” Rex had sent her, which covered everything from Zarek’s food and drink preferences to his clothing requirements.
She vaguely felt like… Rex was essentially Zarck’s not–yet–official spouse.
This was exactly what a partner would do.
Thinking back, she had once been this devoted as a wife. No matter how exhausted she was from work, she’d still come home and cook Issac’s favorite meals.
The refrigerator and cupboards were always stocked with his preferred drinks.
Every suit and shirt in the closet was carefully ironed and paired with coordinating ties, so that certain jerk could look effortlessly polished each morning… only to take that polish straight to someone else’s bed.
Love really did make everyone into hopeless fools.
The ones who criticized such devotion were either those who hadn’t yet tasted love’s bitterness or those who had already recovered from it.
Was this pain truly unavoidable? When it’s offered, you should just dump it like yesterday’s coffee! Better to trust no one than to trust the wrong one!
“Ms. Whitmore, what did my clothes ever do to you?”
The cool voice drifted from beside her.
Charlotte suddenly realized she’d been lost in thought while organizing his clothes, and her distraction had turned to irritation. At some point, she’d unconsciously gripped his shirt so tightly it was now hopelessly wrinkled.
When had he entered? He moved like a cat.
“Sorry, I’ll iron it,” she loosened her grip and tried to smooth the fabric with her hands.
“Something on your mind?” Zarek asked casually as he removed his jacket and handed it to her.
“…It’s nothing.”
Charlotte took the jacket, placing the shirt over her arm to hang the jacket in the closet first.
Her demeanor clearly indicated she didn’t want to elaborate.
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She wasn’t used to sharing her troubles, even with Summer she kept things light.
Realizing Zarek was still standing there with no intention of leaving, she turned to him trying to act natural, but her brain and tongue seemed to disconnect as she blurted out, “Any more clothes you’d like to take off, sir?”
Zarek: “…”
Charlotte’s face turned ghost–white.
The air went still.
Oh! OH MY GOD! What had she just said!
Take off? TAKE OFF?!
“Any more clothes you’d like to take off, sir?”
He was already down to just his shirt and trousers!
Charlotte wanted to crawl into a hole and disappear forever. She had meant to ask if he had anything else to say, but her brain had jumped to him taking off his jacket, and the two thoughts had crossed wires to produce… THIS!!
As she stood there mortified, Zarek spoke.
He answered her question with complete seriousness: “I think I’ll keep the rest on. If I got naked, I’d catch a cold.”
With that, he gave her an unreadable look and walked out.
Charlotte:
What was that look?
What was he thinking? My secretary has a dirty mind, wanting me to strip naked. I simply cannot satisfy her wild
desires?
Charlotte clutched the closet door, wishing for spontaneous combustion.
She hurriedly hung up and ironed the clothes from the suitcase, then rushed out of the dressing room, avoiding eye contact as she fled the bedroom.
Lesson learned: never let your mind wander during work!
Back in her guest room, she took some time to compose herself before unpacking her own luggage.
About an hour later, Ryan messaged her: Mr. Hara is awake. He suggests postponing the tour until tomorrow, and he’s inviting the CEO for drinks tonight.
Charlotte inwardly smirked. So that’s what Leif’s ten beauties were for.
She replied: I’ll pass this along.
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She went to the master bedroom and knocked twice.
No response.
Taking a nap? Possibly, but… what if he wasn’t? What if he was showering, changing clothes, or on a call?
Awkward timing.
Since the tour was canceled anyway, there was no rush to deliver the message, so she left.
Another hour passed, and Ryan messaged again: Hara’s getting antsy. He says if Weasley doesn’t want to come to his villa, he’s happy to bring his entire entourage here instead. The sneaky bastard!
Charlotte laughed at Ryan’s candor and replied: The CEO is still resting. I’ll check again and get back to you. Tell Mr. Hara to simmer down.
Ryan sent back a crying emoji.
Being the messenger between powerful figures was a thankless job–one wrong move and you became collateral damage.
Charlotte understood his pain and sent a sympathetic smile emoji.
Putting her phone away, she went to knock on the bedroom door again. This time she heard a response: “Come in.”
Entering, she saw Zarek standing by the window with his back to her, apparently admiring the view.
The bed was neatly made, and he’d changed into light gray casual wear.
He hadn’t been napping? He really was changing clothes earlier?
“What’s up?” Zarek turned around.
“Mr. Hara has reached out twice. First, about an hour ago–he wants to postpone the tour until tomorrow and invites you for drinks tonight. Second, just now–he says if you don’t go to him, he’ll bring his party to you,” Charlotte reported.
She added, “When I knocked earlier, there was no answer, so I took the liberty of keeping him waiting.”
Zarek chuckled lightly, “Let him wait. It’s good for him.”
Checking his watch, he said, “Tell Ryan to inform Mr. Hara that I’ll be there at 7 PM sharp.”
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