James Sinclair
The man's features were strikingly good-looking but distant, and his profile had a very soft contour.
His dark belt tightened a light gray dress shirt around his narrow but strong waist and abdomen, one hand supporting her and the other slung over a suit jacket.
Emma said, "You look so sleepy, handsome." The alcohol was making Emma's mind a little foggy.
"I'll take that as a compliment; thank you." With a soft laugh as radiant as the fall moon, the man spoke. His voice was smooth and soothing, causing Emma to feel a sense of comfort and intrigue. Emma couldn't help but be drawn in by his charm and mysterious aura.
The man had a naturally detached gaze, and behind the gold-rimmed glasses, his pupils were a slightly lighter shade than most people's.
Emma, though, thought he was looking directly at her—a direct but genuine look.
"Allow me to help you over there to sit down," the man said.
Then, in her confused state, Emma gradually felt that hot, bubbling palm creep down her back.
"You should eat more throughout the day; your back is too sensitive." The man had a voice that could make your ears tingle. His gold-rimmed glasses glistened serenely around the edges. "What's making you feel anxious?"
Emma's heart raced as she tried to come up with an answer. The man's calming presence made her
"I'm not anxious at all." Emma was breathing very laboriously.
He laughed and said, "Okay, you're not nervous."
He reached down to her narrow waist and brought it fully under his control.
The man eventually withdrew his hand after assisting her in finding a nearby seat. Can you take care of yourself?
"Yes." Emma looked up at him, perplexed, and nodded laboriously, her face turning completely red.
"Perfect!" The man turned and walked away.
…
The man left and made his way to the elevator.
He had long legs and was tall.
Trousers that fit him perfectly encased his powerful but slender legs.
He walked with a loose, but powerful, gait.
The head of the Starweaver Group's Southeast Branch, John Baxter, stood at the front of the group of people waiting for the man at the elevator.
John was a lively fifty-year-old. "James, who did you see that you know?" he asked, giving the man a friendly pat on the shoulder.
James Sinclair chuckled a little. His entire demeanor exuded nobleness. "A former college roommate who was a junior. I gave her a hand since she was inebriated."
James pulled out his phone as he was speaking.
He forwarded Emma's picture and address to a Sinclair family cousin who was studying in Florida.
[She's by the first-floor bathroom door. Send her home after obtaining her.]
Very quickly, the response arrived: [I'm not free at this time. I couldn't flee even if the earth was blowing up.]
James: [Receive twice as much money each month from the Sinclair Family].
In an instant, the opposing side retorted, saying, [Arrive in two minutes.]
James remembered that this cousin lived close by, so he knew she was quick.
James: [Make her some hangover soup when you get home. Remember to give her some candy after she drinks it because she dislikes bitterness.]
Marcus needed some time to free himself from the person who was bothering him before heading upstairs and back to their dining room door.
He tipped the door server a small amount. Look for a woman with her hair in a braid and a long white shirt by going downstairs to the bathroom door. Have her sip some hangover soup while you remain with her."
Marcus continued, "Get some candy ready, keeping in mind Emma's dislike of harsh flavors. Give it to her whenever she requests it.
The waiter gladly took the cash and went straight downstairs.
Marcus shoved the dining room door open. There was a circular table inside that could accommodate thirty Starweaver department heads.
With a big laugh, Marcus exclaimed, "The vice president isn't here yet."
Someone said, "He should be here soon," right away.
"There he is; he's right here," John's rich voice called at the open door. "James, please enter."
"I apologize for keeping you all waiting." James entered the room after John.
His fine features were normally soft, but he emanated from his whole being a slight air of superiority, which caused people to subliminally respect him.
Everyone was taken aback to see a young vice president with such a commanding presence.
However, since they were all department heads and had experienced their fair share of storms, they reacted swiftly, getting up one by one once James had taken a seat and coming over to shake his hand.
Marcus also froze for a moment upon seeing James.
He was surprised that it was him.
Marcus raised his hand and said, "James, I'm also from A University. We are schoolmates now."
Surprised, John cried out, "You two have that connection?"
Someone rushed to add, "You really can find talent at a university! At such young ages, James and Mr. Marcus have accomplished so much!"
James lifted the delicate teacup with his long, slender fingers and took a small sip. He remained silent.
Abruptly, the atmosphere became colder.
Everyone fell silent at once.
Marcus furrowed his brows.
But in the next instant, James got to his feet and reached out to shake Marcus's hand. "At such a young age, Mr. Marcus is successful. I'm impressed by that. Please don't hesitate to contact me at any moment if you need assistance with anything work-related in the future."
"James, thank you." Marcus reluctantly extended his hand in return.
Was the hatred from earlier something he could have imagined?
Everyone saw this exchange and knew what was going on.
Initially perceived as aloof, the new vice president surprised everyone by warmly shaking hands with Mr. Marcus, showcasing a shift in their relationship dynamics.
The mood immediately returned to its lively state. James was toasted by all in turn.
John stood to the side and spoke with James. "Wasn't Samuel meant to arrive, James? How did you suddenly come? Wasn't you supposed to come yesterday?"
James answered, "I came in his place because he had a big, urgent project come up at the last minute that he couldn't get away from."
John let out an inward sigh.
Samuel truly gave him a hard time.
Had Samuel been involved, he would have acquired a right-hand man. However, it felt like meeting a long-lost relative when James arrived!
John looked at Marcus, who was sipping tea instead of booze, and felt depressed. "Mr. Marcus, get James a drink."
John had a sincere affection for Marcus, appreciating his dedication and loyalty to his spouse. Young, ambitious, and competent, he was.
He hoped James and Marcus could be good friends.
Marcus raised his head and sadly said, "Mr. John, my wife had too much to drink today with her friends. I have to send her home so I can tend to her afterwards. I really can't have any alcohol today."
He threw in a quick "Today is my fault. I'd like to treat you to a private kitchen that just opened tomorrow, if that works for James. We'll keep drinking until we're completely wasted."
John was unaware of Marcus's marriage, however. However, he was aware that Marcus valued anything related to his spouse above all else.
John helped to patch things up, realizing there was no getting him to drink today. "Mr. Marcus is famously doting when it comes to his wife," he said to
James, laughing. He always buys his wife an endless amount of jewelry and cosmetics when she's away on business. He can't talk for three sentences about his wife when we hang out in our spare time. Tomorrow, make sure to pour him a few more glasses because I don't think I can convince him to drink today."
James was toasting just now. His hand gingerly swirled the wine glass, revealing his unique knuckles.
The red fluid within whirled against his progressively paler hand.
Using neither a gentle nor a forceful touch, he placed the wine glass down on the marble table.
There was a faint "ding" sound.
"Mr. Marcus just got divorced this morning, right? Why does he still address her as his spouse?"