Chapter160 My Mistake
The company had been in turmoil all night.
The staff had been restless since yesterday afternoon, after learning that Luann Weaver had officially taken over as the Head of Design. Many of them had come to work with dark circles under their eyes.
Joshua’s office had undergone a complete renovation by Myron Curtis over the past few days, with the old being discarded and the new brought in. The desk was piled high with documents.
In a few swift moves, Myron Curtis sorted them into three stacks.
"This pile is for getting to know the company."
"The middle pile needs your personal attention — some items require your signature, others need you to delegate contract negotiations. These all have to go through you."
"And these over here can be delegated to others."
Luann Weaver teased, “Seems like Mr. Curtis still has his touch.”
Myron Curtis's eyes darkened with a dangerous glint as he closed in on Luann Weaver, forcing her to step back until her waist hit the edge of the desk, making her lean back involuntarily. He stopped just short of her, his hands braced on either side of her.
"She pressed her hands against his chest and felt his strong heartbeat.
Myron Curtis lowered his head, their breath mingling, and he saw her eyelashes fluttering with nervous panic.
The door slammed open with someone bursting in.
The intruder halted mid-step, blurting out, “I'm so sorry! Mr. Curtis!”
Myron Curtis’s expression turned icy. “Ever heard of knocking?”
The staffer, clutching documents, trembled.
Seizing the opportunity, Luann Weaver made a swift exit and cleared her throat.
"What is it?"
“It's urgent paperwork that needs your immediate review and signature…”
"Bring it here."
But the employee stood frozen, too afraid to approach.
Luann Weaver cast a languid glance at Myron Curtis, taking in his indifferent expression.
"Maybe you should head back first."
"Why?"
"You're interfering with my office."
"Am I really getting in your way?"
"Isn't it obvious?"
Myron Curtis was at a loss for words.
Luann had spoken, and he had no choice but to comply.
"Fine, I'll come pick you up for lunch."
Luann knitted her brows. "No need to fuss, I can just join everyone else."
Myron Curtis insisted, "I'll still come get you. We can hit the cafeteria together."
Once Myron Curtis had left, the employees, now daring to approach, had foreheads glistening with sweat and extended a contract toward Luann.
She casually flipped through it and asked offhandedly, "You seem to be quite scared of Myron Curtis?"
The employee tried to stretch a dry smile across their face.
Having worked at The Curtis Group for years, seeing Myron's near control of the company firsthand, they had witnessed his capabilities and his heavy-handed approach.
"No, no, not at all scared," the employee said, sweat dripping down their face.
Confirming the contract was in order, Luann scribbled her signature and handed it back.
Grabbing the document, the employee beat a hasty retreat.
Then, for the remainder of the time, Luann sat alone in her office, quietly working through the necessary paperwork with swift precision.
Once done, she pulled out her phone to kill some time and noticed...
"Huh, trending again?"
#TheCurtisGroup's New Creative Director#, #LuannWeaver Takes The Helm#.
Between Luann's public acknowledgment of her relationship with Myron Curtis, the internet's chatter stepped up several notches.
The online sentiment was unexpectedly unanimous, probably the piano and racing incidents had preceded this, so people held back their attacks on Luann and waited silently for what would come next.
Grace: “Locked away on a set for two months, and I come back to all this gossip.”
Grace, a leading actress on the brink of clinching an Oscar, needed just one hit movie to seal the deal.
She was even nominated this year, and had it not been for Flora to contend with, the Best Actress award might have been hers already.
Propping her chin in her hand, Luann Weaver mused over Grace’s reputation. Known within the industry for her cunning as much as her talent, and with the Curtis family backing her, Grace had become accustomed to calling the shots.
"Looks like I’m up against a real player," Luann thought as she stood languidly by the floor-to-ceiling window in her office, a graceful piano melody wafting from her computer.
The door cracked open a sliver, and an inquisitive eye peered through. Emma, in a white coat bulging with various objects, spied a woman standing with her back to her.
"Ha, my brother was right; Luann Weaver is a slacker," Emma whispered to herself.
"How dare she daydream by the window when she should be working? I'll show her…"
Tiptoeing into the office, Emma pulled out a can of pepper spray, gripping it tightly as she sneaked up on Luann.
Almost there… Unaware, Luann hadn’t noticed Emma slip in.
A smug grin spread across Emma’s face, mischief twinkling in her young eyes.
Five steps left...Four...
Just as Emma reached the striking range and was about to spring her surprise with an exuberant shout, "Heh, Luann Weaver, take this!" the woman spun around lightning-fast.
With a precise grab, Luann caught the canister of pepper spray.
A hissing sound filled the air as it sprayed into the palm of Luann’s hand.
"Huh?" Emma was taken aback – Luann was quicker to react than she anticipated!
Dropping the spray without a second thought, Emma reached for her tear gas.
But, Luann caught a fistful of her hair.
"Ow, ow, ow! What are you doing!"
Just a slight tug from Luann and Emma was howling in pain.
Raising an arched eyebrow, Luann snatched the hat off Emma's head and pushed her up against the window, her face smushed against the glass.
Emma's wails filled the office, legs trembling uncontrollably.
Her mouth pleaded for mercy while her hands fumbled inside her sleeves, trying to draw out a stun gun.
"Are you seriously wrong about this?" Luann Weaver asked with a deliberate drawl.
"I truly am!" The response came earnest.
Emma had already brandished the stun gun.
She swiftly flicked on the switch, lunging to jab it at Luann Weaver.
"You lie, you pay the price," Luann drawled coolly.
As she finished speaking, she caught Emma’s wrist in a lightning-fast move and twisted it deftly.
The stun gun's direction was reversed, zapping Emma instead.
In the dizzying moment before blacking out, there was just one thing Emma wanted to ask.
“Luann Weaver, how on earth did you pull that off?”
