Director Moore never knew that dealing with a drunk woman could be so troublesome.
She was peacefully sleeping in the back seat of his car just before, but now, after waking him up and bringing her back to the apartment, Tilly Zimmerman has turned into a weepy mess.
With a wave of her arm and a hoarse shout, "Director Moore! Today, if I don’t drink that pretty boy under the table, I won’t be a Zimmerman! Come on! Waiter! More drinks!"
Tilly Zimmerman roared with vigor, then continued to mutter to herself, "Little runt, to think you don’t know what’s good for you, daring to compete with our grand CEO over a woman, looks like you’re asking for a lesson..."
Nathan Moore held his forehead, with one hand tightly grabbing his flailing secretary to prevent her from running around the living room, and with the other, he reached into the pocket of his dress pants to pull out his phone, intending to call the manager to take this troublesome woman away.
It was only when he slid to unlock his touchscreen that he found there were two missed calls, furrowing his brows in confusion, and as he was thinking, the screen flashed with a familiar number once again—the phone had been set to silent.
It must have happened while he was carrying the secretary back.
Looking at the familiar number, Nathan Moore raised his eyebrows, with a slight curve forming at the corners of his thin lips.
Answering the call and pressing the phone to his ear, his expression seemed gentle, but as soon as he spoke, his voice was cold.
"What is it?" He raised his tone in those two words, displaying his haughty demeanor.
A scoff came from Titus Zane who, with his arms crossed, squinted faintly at the night view outside the window, took a puff of his cigarette, and only when he exhaled did he speak.
"What, I can’t give you a call if there’s nothing up?"
"Yes, I’m very busy."
After saying that, Nathan Moore pretended to hang up but secretly prayed that the damn woman would say something to allow him an elegant way out.
Perhaps his prayers worked because he heard Titus Zane say, "Nathan Moore! If you dare to hang up, you and I are not finished!"
This was the first time Nathan Moore had been threatened, and to top it off, it came from a woman.
In his right hand, Tilly Zimmerman was still waving her arms non-stop, babbling incessantly, but it seemed like she was extremely tired, her eyes closed, her thin eyelashes casting heavy shadows on her eyelids.
Tossing Tilly Zimmerman onto the couch in front of him, the curvature at Nathan Moore’s thin lips grew even steeper.
"Oh? I’m quite curious as to how exactly you would not let this go."
Titus Zane was caught off guard by Nathan Moore turning the tables, he choked on his words, just as he had blurted out that harsh remark in a moment of anxiety, without thinking it through.
Licking his lips, Titus Zane asked directly, "Is that busty airhead with you?"
Lowering his gaze, he glanced at his secretary, who was now sleeping like a log on the couch.
His eyebrows slightly raised, with triumph in his eyes, he replied arrogantly, "So what if she’s with me? Do I have to report to you who I’m with now?"
"Nathan Moore!" Titus Zane’s voice carried a thick warning, "Answer me, is she or isn’t she!"
"So what if she is? What does it matter if she’s not?" Nathan Moore’s voice grew more triumphant, a deeper smile in his eyes as he walked over to the other side of the couch, sat down, leaned back, and crossed his legs, shaking them triumphantly.
"Cut the crap! Give me a straight answer!"
Titus Zane’s voice had become impatient, and if one listened closely, it sounded quite irritable.
Just as Nathan Moore was about to admit it, glancing again at the lump on the couch, Tilly Zimmerman let out a timely murmur, "Director Moore... do you think I’m awesome... hurr, huff..."
Nathan Moore raised his eyebrows; she was talking nonsense. The smirk on his lips grew wider, "Did you hear that?"