The towering figure emerging from the stall—who else could it be but Kris Cooper?
A stall? Vera Wave quickly scanned her surroundings. Her gaze swept past the men's urinals on the wall, and only then did she realize she was standing inside the men's restroom. An overwhelming urge to drop dead on the spot washed over her.
As Kris Cooper approached, she panicked and lowered her head, her gaze fixed on the tips of her shoes. What if he asks why I came upstairs? Should I tell him I was looking for the contract? No, if he found out, he might just throw me out the window. So, what should I say? That the ventilation in the executive restroom is better and it doesn't smell bad…
The soft sound of footsteps echoed as black leather shoes slowly approached her. Each tap felt like a blow to her heart. Vera stared at the shoes, now less than twenty centimeters from her toes, and subconsciously swallowed.
"Mr. President, I..."
"Move."
