Mr Presdir 소설 & 이야기

"Sorry for your inconvenience, Sir. They will arrive in two minutes. We can immediately process the signing as soon as they arrive." Edmund's brows furrowed deeper. He wondered why the man said "they". Was the president of Elles Investment more than one person? Or did the driver count too? "I hope you don't forget that my time is limited. If your president is not here in five minutes, I have to leave the contract without signing." Mr. Cage nodded. "Understood, Sir." However, not even a minute later, a young man came. His smile was wide. His footsteps seemed light. Even though his appearance was neat, his gesture was not like a mysterious president who deliberately hid his identity.

My day went by so fast, it’s already six when I finished my workloads, I don’t know if Pres is still in the office, I need to give him some files, his secretary resigned, and he still hasn’t hired anyone, he always insists that we can hire some other time, and he can manage to do things on his own. I fixed my things; I’ll probably just go straight when I give this to him. I took the elevator to his office; he has a separate elevator for him, of course, this is also the entrance for clients, it’s better if there’s no one else with them, they can talk freely.

"Well, first of all, thank you for coming to the meeting. I'm the new president. I didn't call this meeting with all the departments because I wanted us to get to know each other first. My father was the one who spoke with you." He addressed the men. "And as for you, it was Human Resources who requested you, so I didn't have the pleasure of meeting you." Noah stood up from his seat. "I'm Noah Márquez Quivera, and I'll be in charge of the presidency from now on." He sat back down. One of the men stood up; he was also very young, with brown hair, just like his eyes. "I'm Alejandro Castañeda. I'll be in the accounting department. Nice to meet you."

"President, do you remember those shareholders who sold their shares to Ash Corporations?" Secretary Yu asked the man, as cautiously as possible. Even though President was calmly explaining the situation to him, who knows when will he be provoked? Mo Yuhan's lips twitched, "Do I look like someone who has got a memory loss?" Secretary Yu was speechless. Was President Mo showing off his sense of humour? Looking at the man's ever so frigid face, he shook his head, absolutely denying such absurd thoughts.

‘’The famous Miss Quinn behind the success of the Cadel’s projects? ‘’Good day.’’ I curtly greeted the new face before turning my focus to the Elder’s personal assistant. ‘’Is the President free or do I have come another day, Mr. Wright?’’ ‘’The president has been expecting your arrival, Miss Quinn.’’ The personal assistant, Mr. Wright, replies smoothly. His gaze then flicks past my figure.

President 8 As I drove back into the compound , I felt that feeling that I hadn’t felt in ages . I had never dreamt that I was going to be coming back here ever again , I thought that all hope was lost but it seems like it wasn’t it . It was just two days ago when I got an unexpected text from him that he was coming back . I never thought that he would come back , I thought that it was the end of us but I was wrong . Of all the things that I had thought of , the least that I could do was wish that he loved me or he had forgiven me .

Julian Miller turned toward the exit doors of the grand auditorium and walked out into the quiet marble concourse. Inside the hall, loud applause echoed off the high walls as Dillian Vance stepped back from the podium with Sarah Weston. Dillian took Sarah's hand as they walked off the illuminated stage into the private green room behind the press hall. Mark stood waiting inside the room, holding an armored briefcase and a thick blue document folder. "The press conference was a complete success, Boss," Mark reported fast. "Vance Group shares rose fifteen percent during your speech."

The evening breeze pushes a strand of hair across his forehead, but he doesn't bother moving it. One hand stays buried in his pocket while his heel taps against the glass floor every ten seconds, if I count that correctly. I walk closer to him, clearing my throat. "Mr. President." He lets out a small laugh before turning to face me, making him look ten times sexier. "I'm not yet one, but I like when you call me that." Wait? Is angry bird flirting with me? "I know what's good for America, you know." I smile confidently because I know that's the trick to doing this right... believing in yourself.

I moved down the aisle, spotted an empty seat halfway down the row and made for it, sliding into it fast, dropping my bag by my feet, pushing a strand of hair behind my ear as I pulled out my notebook like I had been here all along. “I don’t appreciate lateness.” The voice snapped across the room and sent a jolt straight through me. My eyes went to the front of the class and then I froze. Standing there, one hand in his pocket, looking directly at me was the last person I ever expected to see behind a professor’s desk. Art fucking Wilson.

He was in a fever mode this time. He opened his mouth to speak, but his hands stopped him. They were controlling him, so he closed his lids. He prayed to God to help him increase his confidence like always. He needed Josh Anderson right then—the spiritual, powerful version of him. He opened his lids. He performed a smile for the audience. Confusion struck their blazing eyes. “Hello everyone. I think all of you knew me as the school’s Mr. President,” he said into the mic. His hand trembled within the touch of the metal.