Chapter 37 No Funny Business

On Monday, Eleanor knocked on the door of Vincent's office and walked in with a signed contract in hand.

Vincent flipped it open, caught sight of Aaron's signature, and her expression turned ugly as she clutched it tightly.

She scoffed, “Closed a deal with your body, I see. Quick work.”

Eleanor returned the smile just as dismissively, "I should thank Director Thompson for giving me this opportunity.”

"To even feel superior about being disposable? How's that working out for you?"

Looking at Director Thompson's pallid face, Eleanor quipped, "Looks like someone’s hormones are all over the place. Rough weekend?"

Vincent's eyes glinted with malice.

She'd tried to set a date with Aaron over the weekend, but he'd been busy—busy with Eleanor.

Vincent angrily flung the contract at Eleanor, who sidestepped just in time. The papers scattered across the floor.

It was a déjà vu moment.

Eleanor glanced down and said nonchalantly, “If there's nothing else, Director Thompson, I'll be on my way. Oh, and at the meeting later, do announce that I'm the new Deputy Director, will you?”

Vincent slammed her hand on the desk, standing abruptly, "What are you so smug about, Eleanor!"

Eleanor turned gracefully, "Shouldn't you be the smug one, Director Thompson? Aren't you about to become my second sister-in-law? I'm looking forward to it.”
Vincent suddenly caught up with her, his grasp firm on her arm. "What do you think you're doing?"

"What can I do?" she answered, feigning innocence.

Vincent's glare was intense, his eyes fixed on hers. "Eleanor, don't try to play me. I have ways to make sure you won't last a day in Nan City."

Cool as a cucumber, Eleanor quipped, "The Thompson legacy sure carries weight."

With that, she shrugged off Vincent's grip and gracefully exited the office.

Vincent remained rooted to the spot, grinding his teeth, well aware of the sarcasm etched on Eleanor's face.

What was she up to?

At the meeting, Vincent announced with a smile that Eleanor had been promoted to Deputy Director. The team playfully demanded drinks on her, and Eleanor agreed without hesitation, inviting everyone to Drunken Paradise that evening.

Drunken Paradise, Nan City's largest entertainment hub, nationally renowned. And it was one of Aaron's holdings.

As twilight descended, the group drove to Drunken Paradise, its grandeur rising against the neon cityscape, a dazzling jewel in the night.

An insider spoke up, his courage boosted after work hours, joking with Vincent. "Director Thompson, looks like you'll soon be running the show here. Any chance of a discount on our drinks tonight?"

"Why not?" she said, playing along. "But tonight's on Eleanor; I can't steal her thunder, right?"

Eleanor replied with poise, "Thanks for the recognition, Director Thompson."

Upon entering Drunken Paradise, the lobby manager, recognizing Vincent, tended to her with utmost respect. "Miss Thompson, why didn't you give us a heads-up?"

Without missing a beat and with a glance towards Eleanor, Vincent responded with an air of casual authority, "It's just a team get-together, no need for fuss."

At the private room's door, she gave her instructions to the manager. "Bring us two bottles of that wine Aaron and I enjoyed last time."

She then turned to her colleagues, a friendly smile playing on her lips. "Aaron's taste is quite unique. If he likes it, it must be good. Let's see what you think."

"Wow, Director Thompson sure knows how to live it up. One glass is worth months of my salary."

"That's the boss lady for you, sheer class."

Eleanor watched from the sidelines as Vincent basked in her magnanimous display, a subtle smile curling her lips, effortlessly brushing it off as just another scene in their daily corporate drama.
People often flaunt what they lack the most.

It was clear, Vincent was rattled.

"Look at Director Thompson, talking out of both sides of her mouth," Nora grumbled beside Eleanor, her face a landscape of discontent. "Says she won't steal your thunder, and then sends over fancy wine. That's not exactly showing you respect."

"What's the problem with a free drink?" Eleanor consoled her. "Life's too short to pass up a good deal, kiddo."

Nora smirked, the laughter barely contained behind her lips. "You always see right through it, Director Eleanor."

Eleanor frowned. Something about the name didn't sit right with her.

"Just call me Eleanor, alright?"

Nora gave her a look of mock confusion. “I like saying it, keeps me focused on the goal. You say it enough, it'll come true. You'll be Director in no time."

Eleanor chuckled softly, "Keep it down, will you? Wouldn't want Director Thompson thinking I'm after her position."

But clinging to that title was the last thing on Eleanor's mind, and sparring with Thompson was not on her agenda.

Colleagues came by one after another to toast Eleanor, and she welcomed each gesture with her signature no-fuss approach.

Eleanor was well-liked among her peers—straightforward, exceptional at her work, and always polite. A few of the guys even harbored quiet crushes on her. But Eleanor's allure made them hesitant to confess their feelings. Today, with courage bolstered and liquid confidence, they leaped at the chance to intercept drinks intended for her.

Nora watched the drama unfold with the enthusiasm of someone munching on popcorn at a movie.

Feeling the awkwardness of their gazes, Eleanor pushed away the coworker trying to block her next drink.

Then, seizing the glass, she downed it in one go.

Her colleague scratched his head awkwardly, but Eleanor quickly smoothed things over with a laugh, "I'm just thirsty."

She diffused the tension as she rose to head for the restroom.

On the other hand, Vincent was pleading her case. "My alcohol tolerance isn't what it used to be. I think I'm a bit tipsy."

"Director Thompson, slowing down after just a few drinks?"

Vincent massaged her forehead, possibly more affected by the alcohol than she let on, slouched on the couch. "I can't go on."

Staggering from her seat, she made her way to the restroom.

The private room was spacious, with ample restrooms designated for each gender. Vincent pushed open the women's restroom door and dialed a number on her phone.

"Aaron..."

Her voice was a whine, an evident plea for comfort.

"I've drunk too much..."
On the other end of the phone, the man said something that caused Vincent to glance towards the closed stall. "Hmm, Eleanor got promoted to Deputy Director today, and we're celebrating with drinks," he nonchalantly mentioned.

She had just hung up when the stall door swung open.

Eleanor stepped out, entirely as expected. With a playful smile, she said, "Sorry Eleanor, I have a low alcohol tolerance, and Aaron's cut me off—didn't mean to be a party pooper."

Eleanor was put off by her feigned innocence. After washing her hands, she pulled a paper towel to dry them.

"That's a real shame. Given Director Thompson's colorful personal life, I'd have thought you could handle your liquor better. Guess I was wrong," she said, emphasizing the words "personal life" intentionally.

Vincent felt a twinge of unease but kept a poker face. "You seem well-acquainted with my personal life?"

Eleanor recalled Nora mentioning Vincent's intimate encounter with a man in the company's underground garage. She was probing, gauging Vincent's reaction, suspecting the rumors might be true.

Without alarming Vincent, she simply smiled and said, "Just a guess."

Then she handed Vincent a paper towel. Standing in heels, she towered over Vincent, giving her a subtle up and down glance while kindly reminding her, "You might want to touch up your lipstick; it's smeared. And do keep a firm grip on Brother's heart—he's a stickler for cleanliness and can't stand to see a woman like this."