Tas Kantor Wanita Elegan Mga Nobela at Kwento

Mara said with a slight accent. I took her hand. "That's good to know." I felt a little better understanding that I wasn't only dealing with Johan's sexual playthings. The next was a striking woman who appeared Brazilian or of some type of mixed heritage. She wore a strappy loose blouse and no bra. Her loose pants flowed about her shapely form. "And you are Kat with a K, correct?" Paul was good with names. Kat took my hand. "Yes. I was Johan's image consultant."

Today was the day that Kelsey dreaded the most. Ella was at the penthouse once again with a rack of gowns delivered. She was preparing Kelsey for the night and helping her out with the guest lists again. "Okay, who is this?" Ella asked showing a picture of a woman with fiercer look. She had a brunette hair, golden brown eyes, and pouty lips. She looked like she was in her mid-thirties.

Karen walked to my desk, put a document in front of me, and said with a smile, "Tessa, the case has been dealt with. I need your signature on it." "Okay." I lowered my head and looked through the document. Then I picked up the pen and signed my name. After signing, I smiled and handed the document back to Karen with both hands. Karen took the document. Just as she was about to leave, she suddenly thought of something. She turned to me and said with a smile, "Tessa, your clothes these days are so beautiful. They must be of luxury brands and must be very expensive. All the women outside are envious!"

She stopped in front of the principal’s office, took a deep breath, and knocked twice. A calm, authoritative voice answered from inside. “Who’s that? Come in.” Ms. Voss pushed the door open and stepped into the spacious, well-organized office. Principal Catherine Kensington sat behind a heavy wooden desk, looking every bit the picture of authority. She was a beautiful, tall woman in her early forties, with sharp cheekbones and perfectly styled dark hair. However, her body was full and curvaceous, the kind of figure that gave her an imposing presence. Her fitted navy blazer stretched across her generous chest, and her skirt hugged wide hips that spoke of power.

She said with an air of finality. "Okay fine" I conceded, groaning right after. **** Thirty minutes later, we were off to her office. I seldom visited her place of work for reasons I couldn't even point out. But it looked much better than the last time I visited. The interior decor was superb. Tana ran a modelling agency, so her workers scurried around the place, taking pictures, doing make up and all the petty things associated with such occupation. The storey building was beginning to look small as business was booming.

Anita calmed down and remained silent for a moment. "What report?" Anita finally asked. "About his company, of course. Didn't you hear that all his female staff are required to wear shabby and loose outfits to work—in short, oversized clothes—and any tight or slim-fit clothes aren't allowed?" Temisa stated. "Really?" Anita asked.

Lani nods in a daze and proceeds to the dressing room as directed by Kane, slowly opening each closet door. In the first compartment are various designer dresses from renowned brands worldwide—short summer dresses and long autumn and winter dresses, ranging from simple and delicate to sophisticated styles suitable for events. Each dress has a distinct design and color, but they share a common trait—they are all exorbitantly expensive. Trying to maintain composure, Lani opens the second compartment. This section contains home attire, often made from soft, stretchy, and comfortable materials. Kane knows Lani prefers loose-fitting clothes, so these outfits are deliberately larger than Lani's us

Have fun,” Jasmine said warmly. Elara smiled and winked. “I bet.” She hurried inside, her heels clicking against the polished floors. The house was a masterpiece of modern elegance. She glanced around, searching for her boss. From the side of her personal bar area, Orella emerged, a glass of wine in hand. Her skin glowed radiantly under the warm lighting, her hair perfectly styled in an elegant updo. Every detail...her tailored loungewear, flawless makeup, poised posture, was impeccable. As a renowned fashion designer, she carried perfection even indoors.

Clearly above the average for Indonesian women in general. She doesn't use any kind of powder or flour on her pure face. She also didn't wear lipstick to fake her thin, red lips. She doesn't use eyebrow pencil or other facial changing tools because he likes it natural. Then, she shook her long hair as she got out of the car. All eyes were on him. Grace Santika. Ryan gaped. The funny thing is, he doesn't know the woman. What kind of employee is he Ryan? Ryan asked, “Wh-is Miss the top person of this company?”

My office was already occupied. Mr. Kane stood near the window, arms folded, his posture tight like a snake waiting to strike. And opposite him, seated comfortably in one of the leather chairs, was a woman who looked like she owned half the state. No exaggeration. She was elegance wrapped in a black tailored dress, diamonds that caught the light every time she moved, and an expression that said she was used to getting her way. Her lipstick was bold red, the kind that could silence a boardroom or start a war.