Time to get down to business
She paused at the sight of the exquisite dinner and remarked, "Mr. James, is this what you call a simple late-night snack?"
Did she misread the phrase "simple," or did he?
He even steams crabs.
James brought out an elegant bowl of creamy lobster bisque, filled it halfway with the steaming soup, and set it delicately next to Emma. "I have decent culinary talents. For me, this is just a late-night snack," he explained.
This seems a bit extravagant!
As Emma sipped the rich lobster bisque in delicate gulps, the velvety texture and hints of sherry immediately captivated her taste buds. She stopped caring about her appearance and began devouring the soup with newfound enthusiasm.
She looked up at James after she had eaten roughly 70 to 80 percent of her meal.
He had just barely touched the fork. His clean cufflinks contrasted with his calm demeanor as he slowly peeled the crab.
Then, he scooped the crab meat into her bowl with a small spoon.
He skillfully and effortlessly handled the crab, demonstrating his expertise.
Only then did Emma realize that, unknowingly, she had eaten a lot of crab.
Emma's mind was instantly filled with three words: husband material.
Handsome, successful career, is good at housework, and is willing to lower his status to peel crabs for her.
He was just too perfect!
Were the standards for a good family man modeled after him?
"Mr. James, do you cook often? Your culinary skills are just too good," Emma gazed at him with her clear eyes.
"Occasionally," James picked up another crab.
"You..."
"Stop," James's movements halted. His eyes behind the gold-rimmed glasses were indifferent, "Don't use honorifics. I'm not much older than you."
"Oh," Emma nodded.
So he cares a lot about his age.
Did he think she wanted to use honorifics? It was just company culture that everyone used honorific titles for managers.
Emma switched very naturally from "you" to "James.".
"Mr. James, you just took office. Your work must be very busy. Do you not need to work overtime every day?"
James continued peeling the crab with elegance, his movements as smooth as handling a finely carved piece of jade.
He glanced at her briefly, "Eight hours during work hours is more than enough. Why would I need to work overtime?"
Emma: That makes complete sense, I have no rebuttal.
With Emma's remark, James was reminded that he had not checked the chat messages in the executive group chat today.
James took off his disposable gloves and took out his phone to open the voice messages.
The first one was John Baxter's voice.
John: [We have a video call with the headquarters of Country M at 11 pm tonight. Everyone be on time.]
Emma was instantly curious and took a peek.
She could actually hear the voice messages from the executive group chat. It felt quite novel.
But then she heard Marcus's voice in the next message.
Marcus: [Received. The marketing department has prepared relevant materials.]
Emma lost interest in listening further.
Then there were messages from various high-level executives confirming receipt.
Emma glanced at the group chat interface on James's phone. The executives were now actively discussing the content of tonight's meeting via text.
James had just said he didn't work overtime, but as it turned out, he still had video conferences.
After listening to all the voice messages, James pressed the voice message button. His low voice was emotionless, [It's after work hours. I won't be attending.]
Emma was shocked, and she abruptly raised her head to look at him.
He pressed the voice message button again and said, [Don't arrange work after work hours from now on. Improve efficiency. Departments that work overtime will have pay deductions.]
The previously vibrant executive group chat with a strong work atmosphere now has zero activity.
It was as quiet as a still lake, without the slightest ripple.
Emma: ...What did I just hear?
Pay a deduction for overtime?
No way. There must be something wrong with her ears!
After an unknown period of time, the executive group chat, now as silent as chickens, "ding"-ed once.
Finally, there was a voice message in the group.
James clicked to open it.
John: [Cough, cough, James is right. Let's try not to work overtime after work from now on, everyone.]
John: [Tonight's meeting is cancelled. Everyone go to bed.]
The executive group chat, just dead silent a second ago, now became lively in an instant, with everyone quickly replying, "Received.".
James turned off his screen. As he raised his head, he met Emma's shocked expression.
There was a bit of food residue on her delicate lips. Along with her current expression, she looked silly and cute.
Reaching out, he wiped her lips with his warm fingertips and asked, "Why the pause in your feast? Lost in thought?"
The sudden warmth on her lips sent an electric tingle through Emma.
She was startled and quickly moved away from him, managing to utter, "Mr. James, that's impressive!"
James retracted his hand and seemed to scoff, "Didn't someone go around saying I'm useless?"
Emma's phone happened to ring then.
She didn't hear his last remark.
"Sophia," Emma answered the call, but her mind was still processing James's words about deducting pay for overtime work.
Sophia's voice on the other end was simply earth-shattering, "Hey Emma! Why haven't you joined the Husband Material Group yet! Do you know, the group exploded again just now!"
Emma glanced guiltily at the man across from her and covered the headset, "I haven't had a chance yet. What happened in the group?"
"After so many years, a true working-class hero finally appeared in Starweaver! Just now, Mr. James rejected overtime in the executive group chat, and screenshots were sent to our group. Mr. James has been deified!" Sophia was exceptionally excited, "I won't say more, I'll just send you the screenshots directly."
Sophia hung up the call and immediately sent over a few screenshots.
Emma actually wanted to say no need.
She was fortunate to have the best spectator position, okay!
One of the screenshots was of James's voice message converted to text in the executive group chat.
The other few were screenshots of everyone in the Husband Material Group going crazy in worship.
[I proclaim that this year's most touching figure in Starweaver is Starweaver Executive Vice President, Mr. James.]
[If James was not born, the workplace would be endless dark nights.]
[No one knows of such beauty in prosperous times, but rejecting overtime makes headlines across the land... Hahaha, in just a few minutes, Mr. James is already famous across all the companies.]
[My friend from the company next door also messaged to ask me about it. You're our role model!]
[However chaotic the workplace, James has the final say!]
[Overtime pay deduction? I'm uneducated. I just want to say: Mr. James, you're awesome!]
"What are you looking at?" James gave Emma more peeled crab meat.
Emma put down her phone and said, "Mr. James, you're trending now! All the workers around our company area know about you!"
"Does the informant dislike me that much? Something that took five seconds has spread this far?" James observed her leisurely.
Emma: ...
What five seconds?
The conversation took a sudden turn. She was stunned for a moment before she finally realized!
He knew about that incident!
When he said "informant," his tone was sarcastic. So he also knew it was her who spread it?
Emma playfully touched her nose and chuckled, "Haha...five seconds? I plead the fifth!"
James: "Touching your nose is a sign of lying."
Emma almost wanted to find a crack in the floor and burrow in.
She touched her nose when she was nervous?
Stay calm. He can't prove anything without evidence. As long as she doesn't admit it, what can he do, drag her to the police station?
Wait...
He probably could.
Emma calmed herself down and decided to mesmerize him with her beauty, and get her main agenda done at the same time.
She got up and walked over to James, sitting softly in his arms,
"Mr. James, what does it matter if it's five seconds or not? No matter how fast you are, I won't despise you for it."
"It's late, Mr. James... Time to get down to business..."