"Thank me for what? We're all family." Butler Santana treated Jasmine Yale as if she were his own daughter.
"Who are you talking to on the phone?"
Suddenly, the office door was pushed open.
A tall and somber figure stood at the doorway, blocking half of the light from the doorframe, with the quiet, dim corridor behind him.
Jasmine Yale quickly hung up the phone.
Butler Santana was still unaware of Sylvan Cheney's situation.
She took off her headset and sat upright, properly.
Sylvan Cheney glanced at her coldly: "I brought you here to work, not to chat on the phone! How many times have I warned you not to waste time with irrelevant talk in formal settings!"
"CEO Cheney, today is my legal day off."
If anyone was being unreasonable, he was more so.
"So what? Hmm?" Sylvan Cheney stood at the door, still wearing his black shirt from the night, unchanged.
His face carried traces of alcohol, as if he had drunk quite a bit.
