Chapter 46 Why the Show off?
<Chapter>Chapter 46 Why the Show off? </Chapter>
Hearing what he said, Ashley briefly closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and forced a smile, as insincere as it could possibly be. "Damian, may we begin?"
Damian nearly spilled his coffee, which seemed to confirm the wisdom in his grandfather's words: some fake smiles are truly that weird.
After a pause, he asked, "So, tell me, how do you plan to handle these two cases?"
Ashley displayed her forced smile again, "Firstly, if the compensation isn't settled by the stipulated deadline, the court will legally seize his assets and auction them to reimburse the plaintiff."
“What assets does the defendant have?” Damian inquired.
Caught off-guard and without printed documents, Ashley pulled up the files on her phone. "There’s a house with a mortgage out in the suburbs. It’s worth about $450,000 in the housing market, but after outstanding payments and fees, the net gain would roughly be half of that."
"Half of that?" Damian echoed, his tone dismissive.
Ashley felt her temper flare. That man had broken the law, but these were his only assets. What did Damian expect him to do?
"Based on the information I have, yes. For more detailed records, we'd have to wait for the prosecutor's investigation," she explained, her patience thinning.
Damian questioned her competence with a tone of skepticism, "Is this how you managed your last case? No thorough knowledge of the defendant’s background?"
Ashley had to admit that working on Damian's cases made her emotional at times, but she hadn’t skipped a single step. His offhand remark today threatened to negate all her hard work.
“Damian, I'm an attorney, not a cop. Everything we need and are allowed to know is in the case files. The defendant is a corporate entity, directly responsible for the case, but we don’t have access to inspect their company transactions, accounts, or personal assets. If the defendant fulfills the court’s verdict, it's a win-win. If not, the court will enforce it, and that's beyond a lawyer's job. I'm not sure why you‘re questioning me here, Damian?"
Damian ceased flipping through the files, his voice still a low rumble but now tinged with a frosty edge. "Are you being mad at me?"
Ashley bristled at his air of superiority, the way he looked down on everyone else as if he was above them all. Just because someone had money, did that give them the right to act so superior?
"I'm simply stating the facts," she retorted.
Ashley didn’t look well. Even with a swipe of lipstick to brighten her complexion, it couldn't mask her exhaustion and pallor. The dark circles under her eyes were evidence of poor sleep, and her cheeks looked pale.
She had been hooked up to an IV at the hospital two nights ago, and yet, the following evening found her out drinking and partying into the wee hours, risking her life with her recklessness.
"Hayden said you were sick, right?" Damian inquired.
Both Hayden and Thomas were aware, so it wasn’t surprising that he got wind of it too. Ashley responded, "This has nothing to do with the case at hand."
God, he wanted so much to set her straight, to fix that faux professional front of hers, "Looks like your health isn't getting in the way of your work, so let's get started."
Drawing a deep breath to center herself and keep the anger at bay, Ashley began, "Regarding today's attack on you by the defendant, we could approach this from several angles..."
"I don't need the details."
He was only interested in results, not the process.
"Okay, I'll head back and draft the legal notice and power of attorney, and then check the court's hearing schedule," Ashley nodded.
Damian gestured towards the lounge, "Write there."
Glancing over at the sofas and coffee table in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows, she felt an inward shudder, "I didn't bring my laptop."
Without missing a beat, Damian dialed the intercom and ordered, "Bring over a laptop, thanks."
Her head jerked as if her hair had been suddenly tugged, experiencing the throbbing hangover headache she'd managed to quell. Pain rendered her stupefied, "People come to your office to give you work report; it's not appropriate for me to work here. My firm isn't far away; I'll have the documents ready before the end of the day. It won't delay the lawsuit."
"Is this your first time being hired?" Damian’s voice had a hint of a warning in it, reminding her of her place.
Could she afford to lose her temper? No.
Thomas fetched her a brand-new laptop, preloaded with software needed, password-free.
"Want something to drink?" Thomas asked softly.
Ashley felt an unexpected warmth in the chilly atmosphere of KM Tower and allowed herself a slight smile, "Coffee will be fine."
"You're still getting over a cold. How about some juice instead? It'll help you recover faster with some vitamin C."
"That would be nice, thanks."
Settled into the lounge area, Ashley began to type, line by line.
She had written hundreds of legal complaints, but this one felt as if she were dancing on shattered glass, each move a fresh agony.
The atmosphere in this sprawling office was depressingly low; perhaps it was the lack of oxygen from too few green plants, otherwise why would she always feel tightness in her chest and short of breath?
Damian was swamped with his daily work, perusing documents, checking emails, taking calls, and even sandwiched in a video conference.
Ashley overheard him conversing in British accent with someone on the other end, in Manchester. It seemed there had been some covert financial tampering within the company, and Damian was laying ambush, trying to see just how far the entanglement of vested interests extended.
His accent was impeccably London, each sentence crisp and proper. When Damian said "water," his tongue rolled off the word delicately, the 'T' resonating from his nasal passages in an indescribably pleasing manner.
Absorbed, Ashley found herself forgetting to type. But as Damian went on, she didn't retain a word of what was said; she was utterly fixated on the melody of his voice.
Crazy, she thought, it’s just a meeting, why does he have to show off like that?
At noon, Thomas stepped in again.
He came holding a pile of documents collected from various departments, offered a nod and a smile to Ashley who was quietly crafting her docs, then moved to report his work.
Finishing the juice Thomas brought, Ashley felt quite cheerful and courteously returned the smile.
Thomas had a point; her tangled history with Damian shouldn't spill over to others. They could still be friends.
Damian ended the video call and looked toward Thomas, noticing Ashley looking up to greet him.
Sunlight poured in from the windows, filtering through the office plants and casting a mottled tapestry over her face, highlighting her refined nose and softening the weariness around her eyes.
"Boss?" Thomas asked.
"Leave them here," replied Damian.
Thomas was unsure of what Damian's intentions were for Ashley's presence, "Where would you like to have lunch?" asked Thomas
"As usual," Damian said.
“As usual” meant meals prepared in the private kitchen of the company, then brought to him.
Thomas offered a smile, "Ashley, you must be hungry too, right?"
Closing her laptop, Ashley saved her files, "I've finished the paperwork. I'll eat out before I head to the court, then have to gather some evidence in the afternoon."
Thomas glanced between the two, hesitating.
Damian inquired, "Where’s that paint guy?"
Thomas replied, "He's still detained by security, cursing and carrying on all morning and he hasn't quieted down for a minute. I think he's looking for more trouble."
Damian cast a sidelong glance at Ashley, "What do you think, Ashley? Hold him or let him go?"
