Chapter 620: They Look Like an Old Couple

Susan knew Manuel's character. He rarely lost his temper at work, but he was incredibly strict. Anyone who delayed a project faced severe consequences. Callie, having lost data, was understandably anxious.

"Of course, you can," Susan agreed.

"Thank you, Miss Phillips."

Later, Callie called again, requesting the password. Susan offered several possibilities, all incorrect. Confusion mounted for Susan; Callie was close to tears. This was odd; Susan was certain one password was correct.

After Callie's pleas, Susan abandoned her plans for a drink and returned to the office. She soon arrived.

"I'm sorry to bother you so late," Callie began, tears welling, self-reproach evident on her face. "I don't know what to do; I just received a harsh reprimand."

"Forget it. I know Manuel," Susan reassured her. Sitting at her computer, Susan entered the password, only then realizing she'd altered a word. She quickly retrieved the file.

Callie left after expressing her gratitude. Susan was about to leave when Manuel entered, demanding, "Make me coffee." He closed the door without acknowledging her.

"I'll do it," Susan replied, feeling increasingly worn down by Manuel's demanding nature and the long hours she worked with him.

"Miss Phillips, you're so kind. I'll finish the data and give it to Mr. Johnson," Callie said.

"Just focus on your work."

Susan went to make black coffee; Manuel often relied on it to combat fatigue. She half-joked to herself that he'd one day collapse from overwork.

Later, Susan entered Manuel's office; he was engrossed in work and didn't look up. She placed the coffee on his desk. Coincidentally, as he reached for a file, his hand knocked over the cup, spilling coffee onto his white shirt and black trousers.

Susan screamed, frantically trying to wipe away the coffee. Manuel, wincing from the scalding liquid, grasped her hand.

"Don't move," he said. More coffee seeped into his skin as she pulled at his shirt.

"I'm so sorry," Susan apologized profusely.

Manuel, soaked, stood up. "Call the cleaner," he instructed, his brow furrowed. He then retreated to the restroom to change.

Susan watched his back, a complex mix of emotions swirling within her. She felt he was justified in his displeasure, but couldn't understand his continued somber demeanor after her apology.

In the restroom, Manuel changed his clothes. He sighed, noticing Susan's scent—not perfume, but something floral and milky, reminiscent of her preferences. Returning to the office, he found Susan carefully cleaning the spilled coffee.

"Where's the cleaner?"

"She left," Susan replied. "I'll take care of it."

She felt he never truly believed in her capabilities.

"Stop it and get out," Manuel commanded.

"I said I'll do it properly."

"You're wasting my time. I don't work all night."

Frustration surged; she almost wished to shove the duster in his mouth. As she turned to leave, her high heels betrayed her on the wet floor.

"Ah!"

Before she fell, he caught her, firmly. She landed in his arms, feeling his warmth. Meeting his gaze, she was surprised by his intervention. At that moment, she noticed his neck and Adam's apple, triggering a memory of a similar image in a recent erotic dream.

Impulsively, she touched him. He immediately pulled away. She recoiled, realizing she'd been momentarily captivated.

"Get out, and don't bother me again," Manuel said.

She was still contemplating a sexual encounter with him, yet he only wanted her gone. She stormed out, imagining his reddened cheeks if she were to look back.

"Miss Phillips!" Callie called out, witnessing Susan's abrupt departure.

"I'll do nothing for Manuel, even if he's starving or dying of thirst," Susan yelled.

Callie wondered at their daily bickering, concluding they resembled an old, constantly quarreling couple. However, given their past divorce, and Susan's current involvement with Henry, no one interfered.