Chapter 125: Do you like her?
Seconds felt like minutes as Freda and Reginald remained still, their gazes locked, breaths shallow.
Neither of them moved, the warmth of their accidental closeness sending an odd tension through the air.
Then, the ringing of the phone abruptly stopped.
The silence that followed made Reginald blink rapidly, as if snapping back to reality. His lips parted slightly, but no words came out.
’Hey,’
Freda arched a brow, silently urging Reginald to move, but he remained frozen, his lips still dangerously close to hers.
Her fingers twitched against the fabric of Reginald suit, and when he still didn’t budge as Freda let out an exasperated sigh.
With a firm grip, she pushed against his chest and shoved him onto the bed beside, attempting to create some distance between them.
"Are you that desperate to steal a kiss from me?" Freda snapped, quickly rising to her feet. "I have someone I admire, so don’t even think about seducing me or taking advantage of me." She sneered before storming out of the room.
Reginald let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding as he lay on his back, staring at the ceiling.
A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he propped himself up on his elbow.
’Desperate? You were the one holding onto my suit,’ he muttered to himself, shaking his head.
Meanwhile, Freda stormed out of the bedroom, her heart pounding in her chest.
"Idiot," she hissed under her breath, though she wasn’t sure if she was referring to him or herself.
As Freda made her way towards the exit door of the sitting room, just as she reached for the door handle, it suddenly swung open on its own, stopping her in her tracks.
Her breath hitched.
"CE... CEO Augustine!" she blurted, her hands flying to her lips as if to stifle a gasp.
Her heart pounded against her ribs even faster. "Wh... what are you doing here?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, eyes wide with disbelief.
The moment the question slipped from Freda’s lips, her eyes widened in regret. She quickly bit down on her lower lip and dropped her gaze to the floor.
"I... I didn’t mean to question you like that," she blurted, her voice laced with unease.
She knew all too well—CEO Augustine was cold, a man of few words. Questioning him felt like stepping on thin ice.
’Besides, he has fired plenty of employees just for asking the wrong question.’ she thought nervously.
Freda’s heart pounded as she silently wished the ground would swallow her whole.
Embarrassment and fear twisted in her chest—had she just sealed her own fate with that one careless question?
But instead of the cold dismissal she expected, Augustine simply arched a brow at her. His voice was steady, unreadable.
"Why are you here?" he asked, his tone serious yet oddly calm.
Freda swallowed hard, her pulse quickening. "Umm... I met Secretary Reginald at the club... but..."
Her voice faltered as she hesitantly lifted her gaze from the floor, her finger trembling as she pointed toward the bedroom door.
"We didn’t do anything, CEO Augustine," she rushed to clarify. "We barely even slept in the same bed, and I... I swear on my life, I have no feelings for Reginald."
Augustine’s lips curled into a devious smirk, his expression darkening into a scowl. "I didn’t ask if you did anything to my secretary," he drawled, his voice dripping with cold amusement.
Taking a slow step forward, he watched as Freda instinctively retreated, her breath hitching in fear.
"I... I’ve always been careful with myself," she stammered, gripping the fabric of her dress. "Even if I was drunk, I wouldn’t let alcohol cloud my judgment."
Augustine nod. "You were leaving right?"
As soon as the question left Augustine’s lips, Reginald stepped out of his bedroom, his expression unreadable. "She’s leaving," he stated flatly, shutting the door behind him as he strode into the sitting room.
Freda swallowed hard, forcing a nervous smile. "I... I’m leaving. So, bye."
Her voice came out in a rushed purr, and without waiting for a response, she spun on her heels and bolted out of the sitting-room, the door slamming shut behind her with a sharp thud.
Augustine scoffed. "Let’s go, Reginald," he muttered, not sparing another glance as he stepped out of the sitting room.
Reginald let out a quiet sigh, rubbing his temple.
’Gosh! Why did Freda have to act so awkward in front of Augustine?’ he grumbled internally.
Shaking his head, he grabbed his phone, then followed suit, shutting the door behind him with a soft click.
As Reginald walked toward the roadside, he spotted CEO Augustine’s sleek black Ford parked by the curb, the driver waiting patiently inside.
Without hesitation, Reginald pulled open the back door and slid in beside Augustine, who was already seated in the passenger seat.
"Good morning, CEO Augustine," Reginald greeted, his tone respectful.
Augustine barely spared him a glance, offering nothing more than a curt nod in response.
"About last night—I’m sorry I couldn’t help with finding a suitable model for our clothing designs," Reginald began, his tone laced with guilt. "But this morning, I reached out to four models, and they promised to check their schedules and get back to me."
He spoke quickly, even though Augustine hadn’t asked him anything.
Augustine gave a small nod, his expression unreadable. "That’s fine," he murmured.
Reginald let out a deep breath, shoulders sagging in relief. "Oh, thank God. I was worried you’d have my head for that," he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "You have no idea how tense I was."
"Have you had breakfast?" Augustine asked, his tone casual yet probing.
Without hesitation, Reginald nodded. "Yes."
Augustine’s next question came just as swiftly. "Do you like her?"
On reflex, Reginald responded just as quickly. "Yes."
The moment the word left his lips, his entire body stiffened. His eyes widened as realization dawned.
"Wait—what?" He snapped his gaze toward Augustine, who now had a knowing smirk playing on his lips.
"I asked if you liked her," Augustine repeated, his voice calm yet laced with amusement.
Reginald cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "I... I thought you were still talking about breakfast," he muttered, avoiding Augustine’s gaze.