Chapter 6: Party

At dawn the next day, Lala’s ringing phone yanked her out of sleep. She groaned, rolled over, then finally sat up and fumbled for her phone with barely open eyes.

Her manager’s thick voice blasted through the speaker. “What the hell are you still doing at home? Christmas holiday is over. Get your ass over here—we have a presentation to make. Stop delaying it, lazy bum.”

Lala jolted fully awake at the reminder. “I’ll be there. Just give me a few minutes.”

“Today is Boxing Day,” he warned. “Don’t get on my nerves, Lala.” He hung up.

She swung her legs off the bed, then paused when she noticed a sheet of paper beside her. Her eyes skimmed it. When she finished reading, her lips curled into a faint, unreadable smile. Then she rushed into the shower, washed up, dressed in record time, and hurried out.

Minutes later she was in her car, speeding toward the office.

The moment her manager spotted her, he let out a relieved breath. “Good. You’re here.”

He didn’t give her time to respond. “Boardroom. We need to prep.”

Not long after, they stepped out of the elevator and climbed into the company car, which drove them to the client’s building for the presentation.

At reception, a woman in charge handed them a number tag. “You’ll have to wait in line.”

Her manager glanced at it—Number Nine—and his mouth tightened. “These presentations take thirty to forty minutes,” he grumbled. “I can’t miss my lunch.”

Lala, who hadn’t even had breakfast, didn’t dare complain. She knew her delay had caused this.

They’d been waiting only a short while when the same woman returned. “You can go in now.”

Her manager’s eyes widened, but he didn’t hesitate. As if afraid she’d change her mind, he grabbed Lala’s arm and marched her inside.

The presentation room was already occupied.

And then Lala saw him—Philip—seated among the decision-makers.

Her body went rigid.

A sharp tug at her dress from her manager snapped her back. One of the men looked up, unimpressed. “We’re listening.”

Lala began. Her voice was steady, her delivery fluent—but every so often her gaze flicked to Philip.

His face remained expressionless.

After they were done, Lala and her manager stepped outside.

“Girl, I think 26 is my lucky number. Skipping the queue never felt so good. I’m going to buy my kids some toys—and my brother’s kids are coming over for lunch, so I’ll get them something too. I’m going to surprise them,” her manager said, laying out his noon plans without even looking at her, or caring why they’d been allowed to skip the line.

Then he paused. Turning to Lala, he shook his head and said, flatly, “You can’t relate.”

The comment left Lala speechless. She got into the car with him, returned to the company, and later drove home. By the time she arrived, it was already noon, and she was starving. She changed and headed for the kitchen—

—the doorbell rang.

She opened the door to find a dispatch rider holding a package.

“This is for you, miss,” he said.

Lala blinked. She hadn’t ordered anything, but she signed anyway and asked, “Who’s the sender?”

“Mr. P,” the rider replied, then turned and left.

Frowning, Lala carried the package inside, wondering if it was John’s uncle. When she opened it, she found a lunch box. She didn’t hesitate—she ate everything.

That evening, she spent the rest of the day glued to the television. Noon turned into night, boredom settling in. She wanted to talk to Philip, but she didn’t have his number.

The next day, her manager called.

“At dusk, I’ll come pick you up. We have a party to attend.” He hung up immediately.

Lala’s lips twitched. She was used to him. She went out to buy a new dinner gown, then came home to get ready.

At dusk, her manager pulled up outside her house in the company car. He stepped out, then called for Lala.

When Lala came out, his mouth fell open. “Woow!”

Lala dipped her head, suddenly bashful under his reaction.

Her manager whistled softly. “Girl, you’re so pretty. If I wasn’t married, I’d go all out—even if you had a boyfriend. I’d make you mine.”

Lala chuckled, and they got into the car and drove to the venue. When they arrived, he glanced at her again and said, “I honestly pity your boyfriend. He’s going to have a panic attack tonight.”

Lala only smiled sheepishly, not letting him know she’d already broken up with John.

Inside the venue, she spotted John with a few colleagues, deep in conversation. The moment he saw her, he froze. His eyes widened in shock—he wasn’t used to seeing Lala so dressed up, taking such care with her appearance. He couldn’t look away.

“Lala,” her manager said, “let’s go over there. We should greet the Led LTD shareholders.”

“Alright,” Lala replied, and followed him.

John kept staring even as she walked away.

“Is anything the matter, sir?” one of the men beside him asked.

“Nothing,” John muttered, snapping out of it as he turned away. But less than five minutes later, he was scanning the room again, searching for her.

When he finally spotted Lala laughing with Philip, walking beside him as Philip introduced her to his friends, John’s chest tightened. His heart sank, his fist clenching as unease and nervousness flooded through him.