My Ascetic Husband, a Snake in Disguise
I shoved William aside and flung the door open.
There stood Tiffany Golden, the teary-eyed intern assistant, her fingers tugging at Charles's shirt.
"I accidentally got Mr. Hatcher's shirt dirty," she stammered. "I just wanted to clean it."
Charles shoved her away, then quickly used the alcohol on the table to disinfect. Tiffany's face flushed crimson, her lips trembling as perfectly timed tears rolled down her cheeks.
William hustled in, grabbing her arm and dragging her toward the exit. "You really don't know your place! Leave!"