Chapter 43

Yulia had just made herself a sandwich and brought it to the walnut wood bar by the window. She hadn't taken more than a couple of bites when she noticed the car returning. She glanced at her small, elegant wristwatch—it had been barely two hours, much shorter than she'd expected. She took a bite of her sandwich, chewing slowly while looking through the window. She saw the two of them get out of the car, one on the left, the other on the right. The goodbye was very ordinary. She saw Winnie nod slightly to Wyatt, and Wyatt simply curved his lips in a brief smile. They didn't exchange a single word, and then they went their separate ways. A moment later, the SUV's engine started up in the driveway. The tires slid over the patterned stone road, the sound of friction fading as the car drove down the slope. Yulia ran to meet Winnie and asked, "Did Wyatt take you out to eat? I can make you some meat sauce pasta?" Her voice trailed off. "What's wrong? What did he do to you?" Yulia slowed her pace, walking softly. Winnie, as if waking from a daze, looked up and smiled. "No, I'm fine." Her voice was upbeat, the kind of upbeat that seemed indifferent. "I'm so tired—hungry and tired. Wyatt's so cheap, didn't even offer me a meal. Just made me drink a ton of tea." "Ugh," Yulia said with a tone of distaste, "He's really boring." "Yeah, he's really boring," Winnie agreed, changing into her house slippers as she spoke. She smiled while talking, but as soon as she stopped, her face became expressionless, her eyes sinking as if lost in thought. "So what do you want to eat? I'll make it for you." Yulia didn't notice her downcast mood and rolled up her sleeves. "I want to take a nap first. I'll start working in the afternoon. Contact Wendy and ask her how she's decided. Then, print out the plans for the Fashion Gala and the Star Diamond Night and bring them to me. For the rest of the time, I need to focus on Antony's audition. Don't disturb me after that." Yulia followed her every step, nodding as she listened. "But you've only had four days off." Winnie turned back and smiled. "Yulia, work is more reliable." Yulia, still thinking about going back to eat, didn't follow her upstairs. Winnie went up alone, laid down on the bed, and closed her eyes, resting her face in the curve of her arm. The breeze wafted in through the half-open window, carrying the scent of flowers and the sound of birds singing—peaceful and calming. Winnie lay still for a while, then reached under her pillow to pull out a dark velvet jewelry box. With a click, the clasp opened, revealing the nearly 10-million-dollar ring embedded inside, gleaming and sparkling with light. Suddenly, everything made sense to her—why he hadn't returned her pocket watch but instead bought her a new, more expensive ring. He wanted her to sever her past, to be completely clean of it. That "pocket watch should be returned to its owner. As for the woman, he will protect her.," like some kind of requisition, taking something he found desirable, something he was willing to play with. It really did fit their style, Winnie thought humorously. She quickly sat up on the bed, slipped the ring onto her long, slender ring finger, then raised her hand, spreading her fingers to catch the light, admiring it over and over. This wasn't moonlight; it was just a ring, nothing to treasure. It should be worn proudly, flaunted, and used for everyday life—eating, drinking, living. She wore the ring and fell asleep, only to be woken by Wendy's call. "Miss Loxley, I accept your offer. When can I start working?" Wendy asked directly. "Have you taken care of things with your family and company?" Wendy laughed on the other end of the phone. "Yes, of course." Originally just a small public relations officer, Wendy could never have been part of the board's personnel structure, and resigning wouldn't have gotten her special attention from Edison. But since Winnie lacked experience in the workplace and wasn't familiar with how big companies structured their personnel systems, she had no reason to doubt it. When Edison heard she had left the board office to be a celebrity's assistant, he found it a bit absurd. "How did you convince your father?" Wendy tilted her head and replied, "Well, if I'm not interested anymore, I can always come back." As Wendy spoke, she propped her hands on the desk, watching Edison review and sign off on her resignation papers, continuing, "And you know my dad—he listens to Van for everything." "Your dad even asked Van?" Edison looked up. "What did he say?" "He didn't say much. Just said it was fine." Edison showed a slight, amused interest but said nothing, instead smiling and casually asking, "At that party, I heard you blocked Wyatt from coming over to her." "She asked me to protect her," Wendy recalled. "Wyatt was looking for a room key, so I stepped in. It was close—he didn't take me seriously at all, but I managed to stop him." Edison nodded. "When you were working for me, you did things freely without care. Now that you're an assistant to someone else, remember to be more restrained and low-key. Always consider things from your boss's perspective and avoid making enemies for her." "Wow." Wendy tilted her head and smiled. "You sound just like Van." "Not the same," Edison said with a smile. "I'm teaching you how to do things. He's warning you not to cause trouble for someone else." "Okay." Wendy didn't fully understand, but Edison was inscrutable, so he didn't offer any further explanation. The Hermes black-and-gold bag was the perfect size for a briefcase. Wendy carried it confidently, walking briskly with each step creating a breeze. She passed through GC's large office, and just before getting on the elevator, she turned to Winnie and said, "It's a pleasure working with you, Miss Loxley." The next day, when Wendy arrived for her first day at work, Winnie was on the rooftop rehearsing a scene with Yulia. Winnie had her hair tied in a fluffy bun, wearing a loose David sweatshirt and off-white sweatpants that made her look like a young girl. When she saw Wendy arriving, she quickly finished her lines and rolled up the script, giving Wendy a once-over. White shirt, pencil skirt, and 2-inch black heels—Winnie smiled as she took a sip of water from her bottle. "No need to be so formal. Wear whatever you like. Sometimes our schedules are tight or we have to do promotions, and we end up standing for a long time. Wearing heels the whole time is a pain." Wendy nodded. "Okay." "When I'm free, I stay here, but when I'm busy, I stay at my apartment in the city center. Where's your place?" Wendy had already prepared an answer. "In the suburbs. The rent is cheaper." "That's a long commute, isn't it?" Winnie wasn't too familiar with public transportation. Wendy responded calmly and without hesitation. "It's 26 subway stops, with three line changes. It takes about 1 hour and 55 minutes, but I can manage." "Too far." Winnie was astonished by her level of endurance. "You should just live with us."