"Whoa! Listen to you! Your wife doesn't take her job seriously and now you're making it my fault and threatening to fire me? Who do you think you are? My boss? The president of our company? Well, fine! Fire me, then. But do it quickly. Because if you don't, Blair will be cleaning out her desk tomorrow!" the manager retorted.
No one had ever talked back to Wesley like this. With a sneer he hung up and dialed another number.
"Yeah, it's me. I need a favor. There's a corporation called Sailboat Company. Get the translation department manager fired, and replace her with Blair Jing."
So by the time Blair's alarm went off and she opened her bleary eyes, she was now the translation department manager. She didn't even know.
The minute she turned on her phone, she found it was flooded with congratulatory messages.
If she was sleepy before, now she was wide awake. Round-eyed, she read each message. 'What's going on? Am I still sleeping? Is this a dream?' she thought to herself.
She stretched, yawned, and still felt sleepy. So she decided to get some more sleep. Then Wesley burst into her room, waking her up. "Time to get up. Lunch is ready."
Blair ignored him and grabbed her phone. Those congratulatory messages were still there, and there were more on top of that. So it wasn't a dream!
It was true! She sat up abruptly and looked at Wesley. "I just got promoted!"
"Congratulations!" he said calmly.
She was too shocked to notice anything unusual about his tone. He didn't seem excited or surprised at all. "Did Orion do this?" she muttered, her eyes still fixed on the messages.
Wesley was disappointed. 'I did everything and Orion gets all the credit.'
He took a new outfit from the closet and said, "Eat first. Then I'll drop you off."
"What's for lunch?" asked Blair absent-mindedly.
"Rice."
"So who cooked?"
"I did."
She raised her head in surprise. "You?" 'Is it edible?' she wondered.
Wesley noticed the suspicious look on her face. "Don't believe me?"
"That's not what I meant," she explained hastily as she got off the bed. But her legs were too weak to support her.
"Ah!" she cried, falling to the floor.
Luckily Wesley was quick enough to catch her by the waist. "Be careful!"
Blair flushed with embarrassment, gnawing at her lip. "It's all your fault!"
He wasn't about to debate with her. "Yeah, my bad." He planted a loving kiss on her cheek.
Blair shook a little, pushed him away and ran into the bathroom to get ready.
Wesley did cook lunch all by himself. Four dishes and a soup. It looked nummy.
But the taste... It was barely edible. Tough in the wrong areas, soft in others. The taste was a little like cardboard.
He picked up some diced beef for her and said, "You need to put on some weight. A good gust of wind could blow you away."
"Okay." She kept eating. But she wasn't very hungry. She was full, but he was still ladling chicken soup for her.
"I'm stuffed," she said. It felt like old times. He had once been determined to feed her and have her put on a few pounds. Now things had come full circle.
She was relieved to see that he had dished up only a third of the bowl. "Just a little more," he insisted.
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