Amelia Clarke smiled gracefully at everyone, closed her book, got up, moved to the side, and made room on the sofa for others.
The senior executives looked at each other, puzzled.
Owen Moreland said in a calm voice, "Sit." Then he continued the conversation they had been having.
After hesitating and sitting down, the executives seemed somewhat distracted, occasionally glancing at Amelia who stood by the side, and also at the insulated lunch box on the coffee table. The lunch box was so conspicuous, like a magnet, firmly capturing their gaze, and they couldn't help but communicate with each other through looks.
Noticing his subordinates were preoccupied, Owen's expression slightly darkened, "Have you been in leadership positions so long that your focus has deteriorated?"
His tone was gentle and casual but made listeners feel uneasy.
"Sorry, Mr. Moreland," they all apologized in unison, not daring to look around carelessly anymore.