My Female Manager Roommate

Business Trip to Long Island

After lunch， the Director sent me a message: Depart at 2:30 PM sharp. Wait for me at the office entrance.

Just past two o'clock， I parked the car downstairs at the office. The Director was incredibly punctual; you could arrive early， but you absolutely could not be late. Sometimes she would come down ten or fifteen minutes in advance， so it was better to wait early.

No sooner had I parked than I saw the Director approaching， the sound of her high heels clicking against the pavement. I gave her a careful once-over. She was wearing a pale yellow dress today， cinched tightly at the waist—perfectly outlining her curves.

It was only just April. Although summer arrives early in New York， I wondered if she felt cold in that dress. They say kids' bottoms and women's legs are the most resistant to the cold; I wonder if that's true.

Seeing her approach， I hurried forward to open the door. Seeing me get out of the car， she lifted the hem of her skirt and twirled in front of me:“Brian， how do you like this dress? Does it look good?”

I smiled.“Director， with your figure and looks， you look good in anything. This dress is beautiful and elegant—stylish without losing class.”

To my surprise， the Director responded a bit shyly.“Less of the smooth talk. Take me home first; I have something to bring to William. His son is getting married today， so I need to drop off a gift.” With that， she got into the car.

We left the company and merged onto the highway. About half an hour later， we arrived at a high-end villa complex. I had been here countless times; the security guards all knew me and lifted the barrier from afar.

As soon as I stopped， I hurried out again to open her door. Seeing me flustered like this， she laughed.“Brian， didn't I tell you last time? From now on， I'll open the door myself when I get in and out. Don't come running over anymore. You make me feel like I'm sixty or seventy. Don't do that again.”

“Okay， I was just worried it would be inconvenient for you with your bag.”

She got out.“Come in with me， help me carry something.”

The Director took me straight to her basement. This basement had two levels， renovated even better than my two-bedroom apartment. I saw a gym， a home theater， and even a wine cellar.

I wondered， does she feel lonely living in such a big villa all by herself? Since I joined the company， I rarely heard her mention her husband. Do rich women prefer being single?

She pointed to a nearby door.“Open that door first. I'm going to the restroom.”

I walked over and opened it—my god， it was practically a supermarket! Inside were two rows of shelves neatly stocked with wine， cigarettes， snacks， and all sorts of strange supplements.

Just then， the Director walked in， pointing to a plain， unmarked cardboard box.“Carry this one.”

I lifted it; it didn't feel too heavy. Judging by the sound， it wasn't wine inside. Maybe a piece of art? I didn't dare ask. I saw the Director casually pick up a pack of Davidoff cigarettes and toss them onto the box I was carrying.“These are for you. Remember， don't smoke them in the car， okay?”

I hurriedly declined.“These cigarettes are too expensive. How can I accept them?”

She gave me a look.“If I give them to you， take them. Don't argue.” Then she walked out of the basement.

I thought， well， free is free. Besides， it's not like she paid for them herself.

The Director seemed to be in a good mood today. So why did Peter tell me she was snapping at everyone? Maybe it's because I'm handsome， and she can't bear to scold me. The thought made me smile.

I guessed that everything in the warehouse was gifts from other people. Otherwise， who would buy so many things to keep at home?

After two hours of driving， we successfully arrived at a high-end hotel in Long Island—the Crescent Hotel. The room had already been booked by President William.

After getting out of the car， the Director went to visit other clients. I had just lain down on the bed when I heard my phone ring. It was the landlord. Only then did I remember—today was the deadline. Either pay the rent or move out.

“Brian， are you there or not? I've been waiting for you at home all morning. It's almost five o'clock， I'm not waiting anymore. I've already rented the place to someone else. They can do whatever they want with your stuff.”

I couldn't help raising my voice.“Bro， I told you， I've been out of town on a business trip these past few days. What's the rush? It's not like I'm going to short you.”

“It's not me in a rush， it's the guy renting. You give me 3000， he gives me 5000. Who do you think I'm going to rent to? Fine， I'll tell him to leave your luggage for two days. If you don't come get it after two days and it gets lost， don't blame me.” He hung up. I cursed silently—you old geezer， go use that extra two thousand to buy medicine.

My room has been such a mess lately， there's barely room to step foot inside. I really don't know what the poor guy taking over the place will say about me. Thinking of this， I sneezed a few times. I guess I was right—he was definitely cursing the mess I left behind.

The wedding was held that evening as scheduled. Although I wasn't strictly on the guest list， I still went downstairs to catch a glimpse of the bride. Seeing her dressed so beautifully， I became even more convinced of the old saying: someone else's wife is always better.

Because I had to accompany the Director to the wedding banquet， the hotel had prepared a special set meal for us logistics staff. After dinner， I figured since the Director was staying upstairs anyway， I could walk back even if I got drunk. Besides， being alone upstairs was boring.

So， I went downstairs， planning to wander the streets. I had been to Long Island a few times， but this was my first time staying overnight. With a bit of luck， I might even pick up a girl.

Passing by the banquet hall on the first floor， looking at the beautiful bride and the handsome groom， I suddenly realized I was already twenty-five. Back in my hometown， I would have been married years ago at this age. The groom was about the same age as me. Looking at him， then looking at myself... comparisons really can kill you.

Others can hold weddings in such luxurious hotels and invite so many powerful and influential people. In this society， it really all comes down to whose father you have.

I've been drifting aimlessly all these years， not even having a serious girlfriend. Even if I wanted to compare fathers， I'd need to have a girlfriend first. Then again， even if I had a girlfriend， my dad couldn't afford a wedding like this.

In no mood to stroll anymore， I turned back to the hotel. I scrolled through some videos for a while and unknowingly fell asleep.

In my sleep， I heard the phone ring again. I looked; it was the Director calling. I hurriedly picked up.

A woman's delicate， coquettish voice came through:“Brian， where are you? Come downstairs and pick me up， I drank too much today.” She giggled a few times.

Hearing this， I jumped up， grabbed my jacket， and ran downstairs.