My hard boss

Chapter 8- In his web

" What are you doing here? Who invited a low life like you?" Jasmine asked. " You must leave now!"

Sally rolled her eyes, wondering what was wrong with this woman. "Thank goodness you are not the organizer of this party. If you were, I would not even bother coming, knowing what a terrible person you are."

Jasmine's anger flared. "Rude nobody! You have not answered my question. Why are you here? Were you even invited?"

Edmund, noticing the escalating situation, considered intervening but instead signaled a bodyguard, asking him to handle the conflict between the two women. He opted to stay back and watch.

Jasmine glared at the ushers at the door, filled with rage. "You people do not do your jobs! Do you not know the difference between a lowlife and the rich and powerful?"

At that moment, the bodyguard arrived. He turned to Sally. "Are you Miss Sally? The host has requested to see you. Please, follow me."

Sally glanced at Jasmine with disdain. "Of course, as a guest, I will want to see the host. I won't pay any mind to busybodies. Their faces will be lined with wrinkles from all this frowning." She lowered her voice as if whispering to the bodyguard but intended for Jasmine to hear. "Some of them already have wrinkles now." Then she began to laugh.

Jasmine's cheeks burned with humiliation as she grabbed her face to check for wrinkles.

Sally walked past the other guests, following the bodyguard deeper into the house. When she spotted Edmund, he smiled and gave her a slight wave. She looked away, choosing not to acknowledge him.

"Where are we going exactly?" she asked, feeling skeptical.

The bodyguard smiled slightly. "Do not worry. You are safe."

They continued until they reached a room. The bodyguard opened the door for her, saying, "Madam, you may go in."

Sally stepped inside, adjusting her eyes to the room's beauty when she saw her boss.

"Mr. Edmund! Oh my, what are you doing here? How did you get here?" she asked in surprise.

"This is my house. I am the host, and there are numerous secret doors," he replied, admiring her.

"This must be a joke. Your grandmother is the hostess, not you," she responded.

He poured himself a drink. "Care for a glass, Sally?"

"Yes," she replied.

He poured another glass for her and stretched out his hand to offer it.

She shook her head. "Take a sip first."

"Excuse me?" he asked, surprised.

"I believe you heard me the first time, sir." Her tone held a veiled mockery, clearly indicating her lack of trust. She wondered if he had spiked her drink with something.

His eyes twinkled with amusement as he took a sip of the drink and then handed it to her.

"Just be careful not to put your lips where mine were," he teased. "You might unintentionally kiss me."

Her face flushed, and he chuckled softly.

She sat opposite him and took a sip. "You brought me here. What do you want? I assume it is work-related. Although I think such matters should be discussed at the office, I'm willing to step up to the task. So, I do not mind."

"You should be thanking me, Sally. I saved you from Jasmine," he said.

Does he expect me to be grateful? she thought. "Sir, thank you for your concern. But believe me when I say I can take care of myself."

"Really?" he questioned.

"Of course, I can. I have been doing so since my mother's passing. Your girlfriend Jasmine doesn't intimidate me at all," she replied.

"You are quite cocky," he noted.

"I am being realistic. Or do you want me to be grateful?" she said.

He nodded.

This guy has got to be crazy, she thought as she took another sip of her drink.

"I want something in return. What do you think you can pay me with, Sally?" he asked, a strange look in his eyes.

What is the meaning of this? She wondered. She already had a comeback, but she wanted him to explain himself. "What sort of payment do you have in mind?"

"Maybe we could get together sometime?" he asked.

"I am not that type of girl, sir. I knew you were a man of many women. I have heard warnings from several people. But please, sir, do not add me to the list. Not every girl likes you. I do not like you. Neither do I want us to get together sometime," she rose to her feet.

He stood too. "You are misunderstanding me, Sally."

"Do not try to explain yourself. You already have a girlfriend whom you call honey all the time, and you want to cheat on her? No matter how much I despise Jasmine, I would never stoop so low. You are such a p*****t, boss." She decided to give him a piece of her mind and not listen to him.

He called after her again. She did not respond. She walked out.

Edmund ran his hand through his hair. "Damn! I would have explained it differently. I would have used better words to let her know I want a relationship, and that the relationship between Jasmine and I is not of my own making, but our families' decision!"

Sally walked a few steps when she felt something strange. She stopped walking and knew she was in trouble.

She rushed into the room nearest to her. It was a big room, but that was not her concern now. She was more concerned about the blood flowing from her.

Her menstrual cycle had begun that day, and she had been careless enough not to check her calendar. She picked up her phone; its reminder had indicated this period, but she had been too busy panicking about the party that she did not notice.

Her white dress was stained. She ran to the wardrobe in the room, and without thinking, she took a white shirt in her hands and ripped it. She took another large polo shirt to wear. She ran to the restroom to clean up. She felt better when she was done and wondered what she would do since her dress had been stained and she could not wear it to the party. Maybe she could wash the dress in the sink? That thought felt logical. But how long would it take to dry?

She walked out of the room and saw Edmund sitting on the bed. He had taken his shirt off, and all she could see was his bare chest. She screamed; he was startled too, but he did not scream, he only frowned.