Chapter 2 A Rare Opportunity

During my initial days at the company, I made various attempts to establish a connection with Dylan, but he remained distant and unresponsive. He never gave me an opportunity to engage in conversation with him.

Avoiding direct flirting, as it could potentially make him defensive, I took a different approach by building a good relationship with Dylan's secretary, Rachael Diaz. Through her, I gained the responsibility of delivering documents to Dylan. This finally provided me with an opportunity to establish a closer rapport with him.

After I entered the chairman's office multiple times with a stack of documents, Dylan's expression turned sour as he questioned, "Why are you here once again?"

Meeting his gaze, I calmly responded, "Rachael is occupied with other tasks, so I'm assisting her in delivering the documents to you."

Dylan sighed and motioned for me to leave as he reached for the folder. "Thank you."

However, I chose to ignore his subtle hint and pressed on. "Mr. Hewitt, may I address you differently?"

Without looking up, he replied apathetically, "Whatever."

Maintaining a pleasant tone, I continued, "While all the other employees refer to you as Mr. Hewitt, I prefer to have a more personal connection. Would it be acceptable for me to address you by your first name in private?"

Dylan turned another page of the documents and responded with indifference, "Makes no difference to me."

Glancing at the books on the shelf behind him, I casually asked, "I noticed you have a collection of foreign novels. Do you enjoy reading them?"

Dylan picked up another document and replied, "Those books are merely for show."

Undeterred, I carried on, "I recently read a novel called Passionate Lover. It explores the intense and uninhibited love between individuals, unconcerned with societal norms or public opinion. They lived their lives driven by desire, experiencing a sense of liberation. It's a captivating depiction, and I find myself longing for such a passionate existence."

Dylan loosened his tie with one hand and clarified, "Those books serve as mere decorations. I've never actually read them. I must disagree with your viewpoint. I place great value on restraint." Closing the final document after signing it, he inquired, "Is there anything else?"

It was clear that Dylan had no interest in fostering a confidante, so I had to change my approach. Slightly bending down, I aimed for the calendar on the table and accidentally caught the buttons of my shirt in its corner. As I straightened up, two buttons were torn from my collar, and one of them rolled into Dylan's hand. However, I pretended to be oblivious and smiled warmly at him. "Dylan, as your personal assistant, it's crucial for me to know your preferences and dislikes. For instance, any specific foods to avoid or things you particularly enjoy. Could you offer me some guidance?"

Dylan gazed at me calmly, offering no response.

With audacity, I leaned in closer, accentuating the graceful curve of my waist and buttocks. Locking eyes with him, I said softly, "I aspire to fulfill your desires in every aspect." I gently caressed his right hand with the tips of my fingers and expressed, "I'm curious to learn more about who you are."

As anticipated, Dylan proved to be highly perceptive of such subtle insinuations. His gaze brushed over my partially concealed, partially visible ivory-toned chest. Mindful of maintaining an air of elegance, I refrained from revealing too much of my breasts, recognizing that excessive exposure could give off an impression of vulgarity. This combination of alluring hints and restrained allure held an irresistible charm.

In contrast to those men whose eyes gleamed with desire upon beholding a beautiful woman's body, Dylan maintained a poker face, his emotions carefully concealed.

He withdrew his hand and uttered, "I'm sorry, but I don't have the time to guide you."

After being rejected, I summoned my utmost acting abilities. The anticipation in my eyes transformed into disappointment, followed by a profound sadness. Slowly, tears began to well up in my eyes. "Well, then, please contact me whenever you find the time. I am willing to listen and learn from you whenever you're available."

Despite my heartfelt performance, Dylan remained unmoved. He ruthlessly rejected me once again, stating, "I'm sorry, but I am not available at any time."

He picked up another document from the corner of the table and proceeded to examine it. Without looking up, he ordered, "Please leave."

I maintained my posture for a few more seconds, silently acknowledging my defeat, and finally accepted that I had been unsuccessful.

I shattered my own record. Having been in this profession for a considerable amount of time, it was the first instance where I had experienced such a resolute rejection from a man.

Despite my inner reluctance, I mustered all my strength to conceal it. Straightening my dress, I began making my way towards the door. However, just as I was about to leave, Dylan abruptly halted me with the words. "Wait a minute."

My pupils dilated in response. Indeed, it was quite surprising. How could any man refuse the allure of a beautiful woman?

Swiftly adapting my expression, I turned around and gazed at him with an innocent look. "Do you happen to have some time now?"

Dylan inquired, "May I ask how old you are?"

Taken aback by his question, I replied with surprise, "I am twenty-six years old."

Nodding, he remarked, "You are at the prime of your youth."

Having concluded his assessment, Dylan resumed his work as if nothing had transpired.

Based on my past experiences, it typically took me three proactive attempts to capture my target. However, Darren proved to be an exception. Until now, he had shown no sign of interest in me, let alone contemplate infidelity towards his wife due to my presence. In the past, I encountered several men who feigned sincerity, making it challenging to ensnare them. However, seducing Dylan proved to be an even greater challenge.

The following day, Dylan was nowhere to be found. He had traveled to a nearby city to conduct an investigation related to an acquisition, accompanied by Rachael. Typically, when the boss went on a business trip, he would bring along a personal assistant to handle minor tasks. However, Dylan didn't even consider taking me with him. I felt like my plan had hit a dead end. Unexpectedly, on the second night, he contacted me and requested that I meet him at Royalness Winery.

As I made my way towards the winery, I decided to call Theresa and update her on the progress. However, she quickly dampened my excitement with a dose of realism. "Don't get too carried away just yet. Dylan is a man who takes pleasure in fooling others."

Balancing the phone in one hand while gripping the steering wheel with the other, I reassured Theresa, "Don't worry, I'm skilled at playing that game too."

Theresa expressed her surprise. "Your plan is progressing much smoother than I anticipated. Perhaps you really have a chance to win over Dylan."

After ending the call, I arrived at Royalness Winery in a short time.

Following the room number provided by Dylan, I made my way to a private room. As I pushed open the door, I found Dylan engaged in a conversation about the acquisition with a middle-aged man. Approaching them, I respectfully greeted Dylan, "Hello, Mr. Hewitt."

Dylan halted his conversation and directed his gaze towards me, questioning, "Can you drink?"

When a man asked a woman if she could drink or not, his motivation was the same as when a man offered a woman to see a movie at midnight. Every adult understood that implicitly. Theresa appeared to have overestimated Dylan. There was a chink in his armor, and I had discovered it.

Feigning innocence, I casually remarked, "Certainly, but I have a tendency to become drunk quite easily."

Dylan failed to grasp my subtle suggestion. He responded, "If that's the case, you can choose not to drink. Just step aside and await my command."

Surprised by his lack of romance, I discreetly clenched my fists and maintained a composed demeanor. I replied, "Certainly, Mr. Hewitt."

The middle-aged man raised his glass, making a slight clinking sound as it met Dylan's. "I've been informed that Lance Cooper is also getting involved in this acquisition."

Dylan swirled his glass gently, causing the liquid inside to move in a subtle motion. "My wife's uncle possesses great ambition," he commented. "He is constantly in a state of restlessness."

The middle-aged man expressed, "Mr. Hewitt, I am curious to witness how you plan to suppress his ambitions."

Dylan narrowed his eyes as he observed the wine in his glass. "He is no match for me."

Upon hearing this, I chuckled softly. I possessed a keen sense of judgment, particularly when it came to assessing men. Undoubtedly, Dylan exuded a strong sense of confidence. He held firm beliefs in his charismatic appeal to women as well as his prowess in the realm of business. Confidence was undoubtedly a desirable trait, but it was important to tread carefully on the fine line between confidence and conceit. Once a person veered into conceit, their downfall was imminent. Dylan had risen to become a prominent figure in the business world, and even his wife couldn't challenge his position. It was evident that he possessed a consistently astute and discerning mindset.

The sound of my laughter drew the attention of the middle-aged man seated across from Dylan. He glanced at me under the room's illumination and inquired, "Mr. Hewitt, have you hired a new secretary?"

Dylan introduced me with a smile, "She is the personal assistant my wife has hired for me."

The middle-aged man chuckled and remarked, "I suppose you must be quite pleased with this new assistant."

Dylan retrieved a cigarette and idly toyed with it while deep in thought. "She's decent. Neither exceptionally intelligent nor dull-witted."

The man carried on, adding, "Coincidentally, the girl of my dreams bore a striking resemblance to your assistant."

"Really?" Dylan leaned forward with curiosity, tilting his head slightly, and inquired, "May I know your name?"

Despite my having served as his assistant for nearly a week, Dylan had not yet managed to remember my name. It wasn't that Dylan had a poor memory; in fact, he possessed an exceptional recollection when it came to matters pertaining to his business. However, he displayed a lack of interest in anything beyond the realms of wealth and power.

In a respectful tone, I responded, "Sabrina. Sabrina Garrett."

Dylan took a sip of his wine, effectively concluding the topic at hand.

The business appointment stretched on until ten o'clock. I trailed behind Dylan as we exited Royalness Winery.

Dylan settled into the back seat while I took my place in the passenger seat. Once inside the car, Dylan fell into a contemplative silence, puffing on his cigarette.

Since I was unaware of Dylan's address, I instructed the driver to take him home as per their usual routine. Technically, there was no need for me to accompany the driver in sending Dylan back. However, I recognized that this was a rare opportunity to spend time with him, so I felt compelled to seize the chance.

As the driver navigated through the streets, I stole glances at Dylan through the rearview mirror, observing his presence and demeanor.

Tonight, Dylan evoked various emotions within me, leaving me with a mix of distinct impressions and sensations.

As shadows danced alongside neon lights outside the car window, their interplay cast specks of illumination upon Dylan's countenance. Enveloped in a haze of smoke, he appeared somber and detached from the world around him. Dylan was known for his customary business attire and serious demeanor. However, tonight was different. He had donned a vibrant burgundy shirt paired with a leather overcoat. Some buttons were left undone, revealing a glimpse of his chest. His hair was styled with gel, meticulously maintaining its shape. With a cigarette between his lips, he exuded an air of casual elegance and undeniable allure.

As the night unfolded, I contemplated how best to seize this opportunity.

Out of the blue, Dylan, who had been reclining with his eyes shut, abruptly opened them. He extinguished his cigarette in the ashtray and posed a direct question. "Do you think I'm handsome?"

Caught off guard, I didn't catch his question clearly. "Pardon me, could you please repeat what you said?"

He fixed his gaze upon me with his intense eyes and repeated, "Do you find me attractive?"

Uncertain of how to respond, I met his gaze without uttering a word, unsure of what to say at that moment.

Perhaps due to the wine he had consumed earlier that evening, Dylan seemed to be slightly intoxicated. Abruptly, he leaned forward, drawing closer to me in an unexpected manner.