Melanie stretched her arms and glanced at the clock. It was six in the evening.
Packing up her things, she slung her bag over her shoulder and left the office. On her way out, she called her client.
The client answered the call right away and asked her to first pick up a document from his company's finance department, and then meet him at a restaurant to get it signed. Once signed, she could submit it to the finance team the next day to process her payment.
It was getting late, and she didn't feel like going. However, the client said he was leaving on a business trip tonight and wouldn't be back for a week.
Considering Edwin's upcoming wedding and Maurice's hostility toward her, she couldn't wait that long.
Right then, she called a cab and went to the client's company. Luckily, the finance department was still open, and they handed her the document she needed.
By the time she arrived at the restaurant, it was completely dark outside.
The private room she entered was loud and lively. Melanie knocked on the door before stepping in. She handed the document to the client for his signature.
But before she could say much, a man in his late 30s wearing a gray suit came up to her.
He casually draped an arm over her shoulder "Hey, babe," the man said with a grin, "are you a friend of Walter? Come sit with us and have a drink!"
He reeked of alcohol as he spoke.
The room had four or five men, all dressed sharply. But the table only had alcohol—no food. It seemed they were waiting for someone.
Probably out of boredom, the man's words made the others laugh loudly.
Melanie glanced at the client, who was busy looking for a pen and didn't seem to care about what was happening. Her expression darkened.
"Sorry, I don't drink. I'm just here to get something signed by Mr. Dettman," she said firmly.
But the man didn't back off. His big hand slid from her shoulder down to her hand.
"What kind of document? Need me to sign it for you?" he asked, smirking.
Melanie quickly shook off his hand and turned to the client. "Mr. Dettman, is it ready yet?"
The client ignored her. The man, annoyed at being pushed away, grabbed her shoulder and tried to force her into a chair.
"Just have a drink, and I'll sign it for you," he sneered.
Melanie struggled but couldn't free herself. She was about to say something to scare them off when the door suddenly opened.
Edwin and Maurice walked in.
The men in the room immediately straightened up, plastering on polite smiles as they went to greet Edwin.
The client, who had been stalling, quickly scribbled his signature on the document and threw it to Melanie. "I've got important business here. You should leave now," he said in a rush, shoving her toward the door.
The push made her stumble, almost falling to the floor.
Before she could hit the ground, Edwin stepped forward and caught her in his arms.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, his voice cold and distant. He smelled faintly of men's cologne mixed with a woman's perfume.
Stunned, Melanie quickly stepped out of his arms and backed away. Her heart raced as she mumbled, "I… I walked into the wrong room. It's nothing. I'll leave now."
Without waiting for a response, she turned and left in a hurry.
Edwin didn't return home until almost midnight.
Melanie, who had been half-asleep, heard his footsteps approaching and immediately woke up.
A few seconds later, there was a knock at her door.
She hesitated for a moment, hoping he'd leave. But when the footsteps didn't go away, she reluctantly got out of bed and opened the door.
The scent of cologne and perfume hit her.
Edwin stood at the door, his usual composed expression replaced by frustration. "Are you short on money?"
Melanie shook her head. "No."
He frowned. "Mr. Dettman said you've been working on a game design for him."
She had known the moment she saw him at the restaurant that this wouldn't stay hidden.
"I was just practicing," she said lightly. "I didn't want to lose my touch."
Hearing this, Edwin's expression softened slightly. He asked, "Are you still mad at me?"
