02 ...The doll shows up at my workplace

Gemma's POV.

Restaurant.

Charlotte and I rush in, out of breath.

A waiter walks over. "Ladies, may I help you?"

I raise two fingers. "-Two glasses of water."

"Alright." The waiter gives us a puzzled look before heading back behind the counter.

"What were you running for just now?" Charlotte collapses into a chair, sweating. "I'm exhausted chasing you."

I widen my eyes. "Didn't you see the way that man looked at me? It was terrifying!"

"But didn't you already apologize to him?"

"I nearly harassed him in public! That was harassment-" I lower my voice as the waiter returns.

"Ladies, your water."

"Thank you." I grab a glass and gulp it down, feeling slightly calmer.

I take a deep breath and pick up the menu on the table. "What do you want to eat? My treat today."

"Your treat?" Charlotte's eyes light up as she picks up the menu, pointing to a picture. "Vegetable risotto."

I shake my head. "Too economic. Add two lobsters."

Charlotte's eyes widen as she leans in. "Did you win the lottery? Why are you suddenly so generous?"

I give a slightly smug smile. "I'm getting my quarterly bonus tomorrow."

Based on my performance, this bonus will not only pay off two months of my mortgage but also allow me to indulge a little-achieving the freedom to dine out as I please.

"That's amazing!" Charlotte smiles. "Then let's order a bottle of red wine to celebrate!"

"Of course."

The meal lasts a long time. It's already 9 PM when we say goodbye.

I call for a designated driver to take me home, then take a shower and go straight to bed.

I start dreaming after I fall asleep. In the dream, I've already achieved financial freedom and reached the peak of my life. I travel the world every day, wear Chanel couture, drive luxury cars, and live in a mansion-

I'm still smiling when I'm awakened by the sound of my alarm.

After a quick wash, I head out to work.

The weather is exceptionally good today, and so is my mood.

As soon as I sit at my desk, a colleague leans over. "Gemma, congratulations! You're the sales champion again this quarter."

"Thanks." I smile, trying to appear calm.

Summer is traditionally a slow season for car sales.

The heat and rain accelerate battery drain and steel rusting; people prefer staying home in air conditioning, not visiting car dealerships in the hot suburbs.

However.

Thanks to my relentless efforts, my sales this quarter are even higher than last.

I almost admire myself.

The next moment, my phone rings with a text message notification from the bank confirming my salary deposit.

I pick up my phone, unable to resist recalling last night's dream.

Would living alone in a mansion be too lonely? Would it be haunted at night? Maybe I should find a hot guy with eight-pack abs to keep me company-

I start reading the message.

And then, the pink bubbles in my mind suddenly vanish.

I blink and read the message again.

This isn't an illusion.

My bonus has been cut in half compared to last quarter.

I grip my phone and stand up, heading straight to the finance department.

There's someone in the finance office now.

I patiently wait for the employee inside to leave, then immediately rush in, close the door, and press both hands on the desk.

"Why is my bonus only half of last quarter's?"

I frown.

"In a slow season, my sales are even higher than last quarter! Is this reasonable?!"

The treasurer, a slightly overweight middle-aged man, sits behind his desk, avoiding my gaze. "Gemma, don't get upset-"

"I'm not upset, just tell me why!" I raise my voice.

The treasurer wipes the sweat from his face with a handkerchief. He glances at the door, as if worried someone might overhear, then lowers his voice. "Gemma, did you offend someone?"

"That Mr. Smith?" I raise an eyebrow. "Did he make a complaint because I didn't go out to dinner with him??"

"But I'm a car salesperson, not a prostitute! I'm not obligated to have dinner with him!"

The treasurer glances at the door again and gently shakes his head at me. "It's not him, not him."

"Then who could it be?"

The treasurer looks at me, wanting to say something but hesitates.

"Who?!"

The treasurer swallows. "Did you offend our new boss?"

I narrow my eyes and sit down in the chair.

The car dealership I work for is part of a Allum Company North America Chain. Recently, there have been rumors that the general manager of the New York branch is retiring, and that the higher-ups are sending in a new leader.

"What's his name?" I ask.

"Luke Shaw."

I shake my head. "I don't know him."

The treasurer almost whispers now, "If you don't know him, why did he send me an email at midnight specifically instructing me to dock your bonus?"

He blinks, as if regretting what he just said. "Gemma, I'm telling you this because we're on good terms. Don't let anyone know I told you."

"I won't," I reply, shaking my head, tapping my fingers lightly on the desk.

"Did he give a reason for docking my bonus?"

The treasurer nods. "Absenteeism."

What the hell.

In sales, there's a clock-in system, but since we're out in the field every day, that system is about as useful as a refrigerator in Siberia.

I take a deep breath. "When is he coming?"

Today, I need answers no matter what. Other leaders treat top salespeople like gods, but Luke Shaw seems to be making a point of giving me a hard time. I must know why.

I start cracking my knuckles.

The treasurer looks at me and asks nervously, "Are you going to cause trouble?"

"No," I smirk coldly. "I'm very rational."

The treasurer sighs in relief. "That's good."

"I just want to see what he looks like, then throw my resignation letter in his face," I say, standing up.

"Hey! Gemma!"

The treasurer calls after me, but I walk out without looking back.

What should I write in my resignation letter?

"Dear General Manager, if Felix Grandet were still alive, he'd rank second in exploiting employees; you'd be first."

I hurry out, just as I think of the perfect opening line for my resignation letter, and suddenly bump into a wall.

A human wall.

I take half a step back, look up sharply, and see a familiar face.

It's the same perfect male face I saw just yesterday at the Sex Expo.

"It's you?" I exclaim.

The hallway is empty and quiet.

I swallow and force a smile. "Sir, are you here to buy a car?"

"No," the man shakes his head.

"Then why did you come to my company?" My smile freezes.

Instinctively, I grab his arm. "I really didn't mean to offend you yesterday, I'm sorry. But you didn't have to come to my workplace to cause trouble, right?"

Compared to what he was wearing yesterday at the expo, the man is dressed much more formally today. In a suit and tie, with a handsome, expressionless face, he looks like he's about to say something like "I'm here to file a complaint against you," at any time.

He frowns slightly, pries my hand off his arm, and gently brushes off his sleeve as if my hand were covered in bacteria and dust.

There are hurried footsteps behind me.

They stop beside me, followed by heavy breathing.

"Good morning-" the treasurer pants, sweating profusely, and gives the man an ingratiating smile, "Good morning, boss."

A buzzing noise suddenly fills my ears.

"What did you call him?" I ask the treasurer.

"Boss."

The treasurer winks at me and motions me to greet the man. "This is our new general manager, Mr. Luke Shaw. Aren't you going to greet him?"

I turn and stare at him, my mouth wide open.

He is Luke Shaw?

"Sorry, boss, Gemma is our top salesperson. She's not usually like this, she might be..." the treasurer tries to explain.

"Just call me Luke," the man interrupts, not even glancing at me. "Where's my office?"

"Please follow me." The treasurer bends down slightly, continuing with that ingratiating smile.

I stand there, watching the man's tall figure walking away, feeling like the sky has just collapsed.