CHAPTER 21: CHAPTER 21: IS YOUR HUSBAND IMPOTENT?

Poppy Hale looked calm.

"Even if she is President Hawthorne’s woman, for now, she’s just an intern in our department. Let’s just follow the protocol. If President Hawthorne wants to give her any special treatment, that’s not for us to handle."

Her voice was steady.

Not a single ripple, objective and neutral as always.

Amber Yates felt the same, "You’re right. With these rich people, who knows how many women they have around them? I even saw Director Archer from the Planning Department going to the president’s office this afternoon. It’s said Director Archer and President Hawthorne were college classmates."

Janine turned up the frequency on the massager on her neck, chuckling, "You mean Wendy Archer? I was wondering why she hurriedly broke up a few days ago, turns out she had a new target."

Amber clicked her tongue twice.

Her mischievous hands found their way to Poppy Hale’s slender waist, marveling at how everyone eats about the same, maybe she even eats less than Poppy, yet Poppy’s waist is so slender.

Looking at the loose flesh on her stomach after childbirth, Amber sighed, "Poppy, how is it that your waist is so small? And your bust so big? If I were your husband, I’d be thinking about it every night."

Janine: "No way, not your turn! I like Poppy like that too!"

The married female colleagues in the office all laughed along.

Amber laughed so hard that tears came out.

Poppy took a sip of water, looked at the screen, and silently apologized to her nonexistent husband.

"Once a man passes 25, it’s like he’s 52; what’s the use of thinking about it."

It’s not that exaggerated, but the Hawthorne Group’s female employees’ spouses mostly work at big companies too, and they’re usually busy with work, so the frequency is not that high.

But when Poppy said her husband wasn’t good enough, a few female colleagues looked over.

Poppy didn’t lift her head, hearing Janine suddenly serious, "Hello, President Hawthorne."

The previously lively office atmosphere dropped to freezing point.

Declan Hawthorne’s mouth curved with a cold arc, his lips pressed together as he looked at Poppy Hale, "Where’s your intern?"

Poppy understood.

It had been a long time since they last met after hitching a ride that night.

She came here for Rachel Rivers.

Poppy: "She took a leave and didn’t come."

"You approved it?"

"There’s no rule against interns taking leave at the company. If President Hawthorne thinks it’s inappropriate, I’ll let her come back."

Declan’s gaze fell on Poppy’s face.

In the past, when she saw him, her face.

Was filled with flattery, affection, joy, as if just seeing him, she would feel genuine happiness.

Those eyes, always sparkling.

Now, they were wary, cautious, and timid.

She was afraid of him, even if Declan didn’t understand why.

Afraid he’d blur personal and professional lines, costing her this job?

Or afraid he’d bring up old matters, embarrassing her in front of that man?

Just for a man who’s no good in that aspect?

Morgan Sloan sensed Declan’s bad mood and quickly said, "President Hawthorne, should I contact Rachel Rivers?"

"No need. Inform her to finish her internship and leave."

Hawthorne Group has strict hiring standards.

Internship lasts three months.

If they perform well, there’s a chance to be permanent. Poor-performing interns are allowed to finish one internship cycle before being dismissed.

Morgan wiped his cold sweat, "Okay."

Declan turned and left the marketing department.

The tense air in the office relaxed.

Amber patted her chest, "So, President Hawthorne doesn’t plan to favor Rachel Rivers? Poppy, you were right. Didn’t expect you to know President Hawthorne so well."

The others felt relieved too.

Luckily, they hadn’t gotten too close to Rachel Rivers lately.

Some had initially been tempted when seeing Rachel hang around Declan at gatherings.

But now, they’ve retreated.

Poppy sat in her chair, her eyes on the screen’s spreadsheet, yet the screen remained still for minutes.

She indeed knew Declan Hawthorne well.

Even to the point where, just by his look or move, she’d know what he was thinking.

Also knew that when he asked about Rachel, he was angry.

In the past, Poppy was very afraid of Declan’s anger.

He typically didn’t talk much, even less so when angry, exuding a low, intimidating aura.

In school days, Poppy had shared Declan’s basketball photos on social media, which spread around the campus walls, and even people from other schools inquired about Declan.

Even though Poppy quickly deleted it, it brought Declan a series of troubles.

For a while, when he played, ate, attended class, crowds watched.

Poppy was quite distressed.

She knew Declan disliked his photos being shared, hated trouble, even more so being disturbed by so many people.

During that time, he looked at her just as he did earlier.

As if she made a big mistake.

Poppy felt helpless.

A few days later, those people stopped coming, and Declan’s life returned to peace.

But he still didn’t speak to Poppy.

After playing ball, he’d take water from her hands, tilt his head drinking it, the water trickled down his neck, filled with bursting hormones.

Poppy tugged his little finger.

Declan glanced at her, hearing her plead softly, "Declan, I know I was wrong. Please don’t ignore me."

Her voice soft, slightly crying.

Declan hadn’t spoken to her for a week, but even then, he softened.

Each time they fought, Declan acted this way, and that time was the longest duration.

But it was always the same.

Poppy would lower her head, coaxing Declan, begging for his forgiveness.

Poppy felt a bitter ache inside.

Earlier, he got angry over Rachel, thinking she didn’t care for his girlfriend properly?

Turns out, when Declan cares for a woman, he changes.

Amber received a message from her husband and looked at Poppy.

She proposed, "Poppy, I need to go out of town with my husband tonight. Can you help me make a PPT? It’s for next Monday. I’ll treat you to dinner in return, and help you make a PPT some other time!"

There’s always such favor exchanges in the workplace.

Poppy didn’t refuse.

Amber had helped her a lot. Last time, when Florence Lynch was sick and couldn’t get an appointment, it was Amber who asked someone and paid extra to get an expert appointment.

Making a PPT wasn’t hard, just cumbersome in its contents.

After finishing, it was already late at night.

Poppy replied to Mrs. Hale’s message, stood up to rub her neck, sent the PPT to Amber, and got off work.

Once she entered the elevator, Poppy saw someone else inside.

Declan Hawthorne.

Didn’t he have a private elevator? Why was he taking this one?

But leaving now to wait for the next one would seem too conspicuous.

Poppy debated whether to find an excuse to leave when Declan stepped aside, making room.

She had no choice but to step inside.

The elevator started descending.

A buzzing sound came from the elevator car, which shook for a few seconds before stopping, plunging into darkness.

The elevator malfunctioned!

Poppy felt weak in her limbs, her hands supporting on the sides of the elevator car, breathing heavily.

Uncontrollably, cold sweat erupted all over, her breath quickened, and her vision started to black out.

Declan grabbed her wrist.

Pulling her into his arms.