Overbearing CEO's Contract Love
Chapter 191: Has She Eaten?

Chapter 191: Has She Eaten?

By the time Emma Hart returned from LY, it was nearly noon. With documents that needed to be returned to the company, she skipped lunch to avoid any delays and headed straight back to the office.

Upon placing the documents on her desk, Emma’s stomach protested loudly with a rumble. She grabbed a glass of water from the desk, its coolness a stark contrast to her preference.

Intent on fetching some hot water instead, she reflected on her morning - not a drop of water had passed her lips, consumed as she was with waiting for LY’s manager to conclude a meeting that dragged on for two excruciating hours. Once the meeting ended, Emma found herself burdened with new tasks.

It seemed there was no explicit directive for her to deliver the documents before 9 AM. Her hasty arrival at LY resulted in a dismissive receptionist informing her of the ongoing meeting, marking the start of her lengthy wait.

Clearly, this was just Sophia Greenwood’s way of tormenting her, and it was only the beginning.

Outside the design department, Damien Sterling would not usually pass by. Yet, there he was, at the entrance, noticing the design department devoid of anyone but Emma Hart. She looked fragile, wandering with a glass of water in hand.

Damien glanced at his watch; it was noon. "Doesn’t she eat? Even if she’s not hungry, her baby must be," he thought, a frown darkening his expression. His assistant, noticing Damien’s concern, suggested in a hushed tone, "Sir, shall we send Miss Emma something to eat?"

Damien, eyeing Emma’s figure, furrowed his brows. She was fiercely independent, hardly in need of his intervention, yet he couldn’t help but feel worried, a sensation that only added to his restlessness. Deciding against his initial impulse, he turned away, "Let’s go! Leave her be."

As Emma turned with her glass of water, she looked towards where Damien had stood moments ago, her brows knitting together before suddenly sneezing.

Oddly, it felt as if someone had been talking about her. Scanning her surroundings and confirming she was alone, her stomach rumbled again, louder this time.

She truly needed to eat now. But just as she was about to stand, a wave of lethargy washed over her. Resigning to her hunger, she sat back down and took out her phone, deciding to order delivery instead.

Throughout the entire afternoon, Damien Sterling was restless, his fingers tapping erratically on the desk, emitting sounds of anxiety. The assistant entered, head bowed, approaching Damien Sterling.

Damien didn’t rush to speak. After a pause, he slowly asked, "Has she had lunch yet?"

The assistant nodded, "Mr. Sterling, Miss Emma had takeout for lunch."

"How long did the delivery take?" Damien inquired in detail.

The assistant couldn’t provide an exact answer, "Around half an hour, I guess." To avoid Damien’s displeasure, the assistant replied, thinking of the usual wait time for delivery among the company’s staff.

"Half an hour?" Damien repeated, pondering thoughtfully, "Does the company have a cafeteria?"

"We do, but the variety isn’t extensive. Plus, being in a business district, most people prefer to eat out or order in."

"Alright, conduct a survey among the employees this afternoon," Damien said in a low voice.

Later in the afternoon, a survey popped up on the screens. Emma Hart, working on a spreadsheet, mistook it for an ad and was about to close it when a voice from the next desk said, "Hey, Emma, you can’t close that. It’s a mandatory company survey."

Taking her colleague’s advice, Emma reopened the survey, finding its questions unrelated to work, though slightly so.

"What is your favorite dish?"

Emma stared at the survey, puzzled. Was this really issued by the company? Such a lack of technical content.

Was the company trying to win them over with food?

Emma earnestly completed the survey and submitted it.

Colleagues began to chatter.

"That survey was interesting."

"Looks like the company wants to offer us some perks."

"Maybe they’re planning to revamp the cafeteria? Adding new dishes would mean I wouldn’t have to go far for food."

...

Listening to her colleagues casually chatting behind her, Emma Hart couldn’t help but smile and shake her head, amused by their endless quest for good food. She then turned her attention back to the spreadsheet, immersing herself in her work once more.

The sound of hurried footsteps signaled the arrival of someone Emma didn’t need to look to identify—the unmistakable presence of Amelia Davidson.

Turning around, Emma found Amelia already standing behind her. True to form, Amelia wasted no time on pleasantries, cutting straight to the chase. "Emma, there’s a project short-staffed. You in?"

Amelia’s direct approach was nothing new; she always laid her cards on the table without beating around the bush.

Faced with Amelia’s brisk manner, as if she barely had time to catch her breath, Emma handed over her water bottle. "What project are you even talking about? I know nothing about it, and here you are, asking if I’m on board."

Thirstier than she realized, Amelia gratefully accepted the water and took a big gulp. "Alright, now you can tell me your terms."

"Terms? What terms?" Emma looked at Amelia, genuinely puzzled by the question.

"How much are you expecting to get paid?"

Emma laughed heartily. "Oh, that. I thought you were referring to something else. Don’t worry about the money; what matters most is your trust."

Despite Emma’s heartfelt expression, Amelia was far from moved, almost rolling her eyes at the sentiment. "Cut the nonsense. How does a 30% share of the profits sound?"

"Share of the profits?" Emma was taken aback by the proposition, unsure of her own worth. "I don’t have grand ambitions. I just want to do things I enjoy and make enough to support myself."

Amelia gave Emma a knowing look. "Well, I’ve decided for you. Who does anything without wanting to get paid?"

Emma, now accustomed to Amelia’s forthrightness, pondered over her words. While she valued Amelia’s trust, the importance of money, especially as a means to escape from Damien Sterling, couldn’t be denied.

At noon, the bustling days had kept Emma both painfully and joyously occupied.