Chapter 8
It was late at night when an incoming call startled Lianne awake from her sleep.
In a daze, she felt around for her phone. It scared the bejesus out of Lianne when she looked at the caller ID. It was her boss.
Jolting up, Lianne respectfully accepted the call. “Hello, Mr. Atlas.”
The voice of a strange man came on the line. “Your boss is drunk. Come to Bare and take him home.”
“Who are you?” The CEO should be with his wife at this hour.
Why was he wasted in Bare?
Moreover, why was a stranger making a call with his phone?
“I’m Morgan Quay. Hurry over.” The person then hung up.
Morgan was of the Quay family, one of the four most influential families of Rosewood. Lianne knew that he was Zane’s childhood friend.
It was the job of the personal a**istant to bring the drunk CEO home.
Lianne changed into her work attire right away, and without a moment to lose, she took a cab to Bare.
Bar was one of Rosewood’s most exclusive members-only clubs. It was not accessible to the general public.
Morgan had informed the staff beforehand, so somebody attended to Lianne the moment she got out of the cab. Lianne was then led to the Aurelian room. “Ms. Simpson, Mr. Quay, and the others are in here.”
Lianne thanked the attendant and knocked on the door before entering. She saw two couples drinking on the sofa while Zane sat in a corner with a nearly extinguished cigarette between his fingers.
The group of four turned to Lianne upon her entry, not even being covert as they ran their eyes over her.
“You must be Zane’s new a**istant. You are pretty. It’s a shame you work alongside an ascetic like him.”
The person who made the comment was Morgan. Lianne recognized him from a photo she had seen online.
The man came from a wealthy family and was good-looking too. He frequently graced the headlines of tabloids. It was hard to keep up with the number of female celebrities he had dated. He was Rosewood’s resident playboy.
Despite Morgan’s flirting, Lianne courteously said, “Hello, Mr. Quay. I’m here to pick Mr. Atlas up.”
Morgan had one hand wrapped around the girl next to him while swirling the wine gla** with the other. “Do you have a boyfriend, Ms. Simpson?”
He checked Lianne out like she was a piece of meat, and it did not sit well with Lianne. “That’s a personal question. I don’t have to answer.”
Morgan smiled. “I can be your boyfriend if you don’t have one.”
“Sorry! You’re not my type.” Lianne could not stand rich kids who wanted to sleep with every woman they met. Lianne would not have even given him any attention if he was not Zane’s friend.
Not offended by the rejection, Morgan cheekily smiled. “If I’m not your type, is Zane your type?”
The last thing Lianne wanted was for Zane to take things the wrong way, costing her a high-paying job.
She took a glance at Zane. Thank goodness he was still smoking and had not noticed her arrival.
Morgan said with a smile, “I take your silence that I am right on the money.”
“Mr. Quay, is it hard to learn to respect other people?” These people were narcissists, thinking that all the women in the world would fall for them because they were from money. Morgan probably would do a lot worse in life than her if his parents were not bankrolling him.
“Zane, your new a**istant sure has some audacity. The nerve of her,” another man commented. He did not take kindly to Lianne.
Lianne did not know the man, but her guess was that he was Charlie of the Graham family. The Grahams were also one of the most influential families in the city.
Out of the four most powerful families in Rosewood, the Atlases took the lead, followed by the Grahams, the Quays, and the Lamberts.
Zane, Morgan, and Charlie were around the same age. It was said that they grew up together, so they must be close.
“She’s acting on my permission. Do you have a problem with that?” Zane uttered in a thick and deep voice. As everybody’s gaze fell on him, Zane unhurriedly put out the cigarette in the ashtray.
It was Morgan to the rescue. “No. Of course not…”
Charlie gave Lianne a chilling look. The hostility was hard to ignore.
Lianne was confused as they only met for the first time. They did not know each other prior to that. So where was the hate coming from?
Paying the others no heed, Lianne made a beeline to Zane. While he reeked of alcohol, his eyes were clear. He did not look drunk.
She whispered, “Are you ready to go home, Mr. Atlas?”
Zane lifted his chin and looked at her. “Who told you to come?”
Lianne replied honestly, “Mr. Quay called me to pick you up.”
Zane turned to Morgan, and the latter joked around. “Life is short, Zane. We must find pleasure in it and make our journey on earth worthwhile.”
An angry look from Zane was enough for Morgan to wipe the smile off his face. “I must have dialed the wrong number when you told me to call your chauffeur.”
As if Zane would believe him. Nevertheless, he could not be bothered to argue with Morgan, so he got up and walked out. Lianne quickly went after him.
They were almost out the door when Morgan shouted, “Ms. Simpson, you’ve got to get a charming and practical man like me. Your CEO might be pleasing to the eye, but I doubt you’ll get any use out of him.”
Lianne was at a loss for words.
She always got the feeling that Morgan was trying Zane’s patience.
Once out of Bare, Lianne spotted the black Bentley parked in the front.
She opened the car door for Zane and waited until her boss got inside before taking the wheel. “Where to, Mr. Atlas?”
To the best of Lianne’s knowledge, Zane had a few properties in Rosewood, and they were all expensive estates.
Zane replied, “HC.”
HC Manors was in the wealthy part of Rosewood and boasted an ocean view. The houses there were at a staggering price of over two hundred thousand dollars per square meter, and Zane owned a few residences there.
“Sure.” Lianne started the engine and drove away from Bare.
Barely anybody was on the road at this hour, so it was a smooth ride to HC Manors.
Lianne pulled up into a parking spot and opened the door for Zane. “We’re here, Mr. Atlas.”
Zane got out of the car but lost his footing.
Lianne put her hands out to help him up, but she was surprised when she felt his burning temperature. “Is something wrong, Mr. Atlas? Are you okay?”
Upon closer look, Lianne realized Zane’s flushed face was not an alcohol flush reaction. Instead, it looked more like an allergic reaction.
“Help me into the house. The medication is at home.” Since Zane had no energy to stand straight, he put all his weight on Lianne.
Lianne was much more petite compared to him, so it took a lot of effort for her to carry him into the elevator.
It was a good thing there were two elevators servicing per household, and the elevator took the residents straight to the house. They soon arrived at the place.
Lianne helped Zane into the house and sat him down on the sofa. “Where is the medication, Mr. Atlas?”
Zane pointed his finger. “There. The red pill in the second drawer.”
Lianne followed the direction of his pointed finger and quickly found the red pill. She also poured him a gla** of water. “Here you go. You’ll feel better after taking this.”
Seeing that she was anxious, Zane broke into a smile. “Lianne?”
He rarely called her name. His pleasant voice under the influence of alcohol sounded huskier and sensual.
Lianne gave a nod. “What can I do for you, Mr. Atlas?”
Zane asked, “Why do you have such a jinxed name?”
Lianne was speechless.
Her grandmother had given her the name, and Lianne always thought it was nice. God knew why Zane thought her name was jinxed.
She took the comment as his drunken gibberish. “Mr. Atlas, you should just take your medicine…”
Zane took the pill and asked, “Can you make any food for the hangover?”
