Edward Clark had no questions, and really couldn’t think of any. But as he turned around, he suddenly remembered a question that was very important to him. “Mr. Foster? Where do company employees go to eat?”

Olivia Foster looked at him for a while. “The cafeteria is on the first basement level, but you need the company to issue a certificate to get a meal card.” She checked the time. “But the time to get a card has already passed for today. Tomorrow, come in a bit earlier and have Little Miller help you get a meal card. I haven’t eaten either—shall we go together?”

Edward Clark nodded, not refusing, but didn’t forget to add, “I’ll treat you next time.”

Olivia Foster had already returned to normal, trying her best to show a charming smile. “Alright.”

Someone hurried in, quite young, with an air of arrogance, cold as if a penguin had run to the North Pole. When he saw Olivia Foster smile, his expression warmed from minus eight degrees to thirty-seven degrees Celsius. “Mr. Foster, have you eaten?”

“John Sullivan.” Olivia Foster introduced him to Edward Clark: “The company’s sales director. You’re both young people.” At this point, Olivia Foster no longer felt like continuing the introduction. No matter how she looked at it, Edward Clark couldn’t be described as a young person. With his demeanor, even a seventy- or eighty-year-old man seemed to have more drive than him.

Olivia Foster finally realized something: Edward Clark wasn’t stupid, nor was he dull. More accurately, he seemed to have no ambitions—or, to put it another way, he had no desires!

Desire is a devil; it can make a person become extremely frightening, stop at nothing. The devil uses desire to lure humans into an inescapable abyss. But without desire, does that make someone a devil? Thinking of this, Olivia Foster actually shivered.

“My name is Edward Clark, the new salesman. Hello, Director Sullivan.” Edward Clark actually reached out his hand to greet him. Olivia Foster was startled, almost thinking she’d witnessed the ninth wonder of the world.

John Sullivan just nodded, looking utterly disdainful, as if his face said, “Who are you?” He didn’t extend his hand, because his principle was: you can treat others with the warmth of Lei Feng, or with the ruthlessness of autumn winds sweeping away fallen leaves. The key is the person. With Edward Clark looking like this, and just being a salesman, he clearly wasn’t worth John Sullivan’s attention!

Olivia Foster actually felt a bit displeased. John Sullivan, a marketing major from a prestigious university, with three years of sales experience at a top company—talented, exceptionally so. But talented people are often arrogant, because how else can they show off their talent?

This reverse logic isn’t one hundred percent accurate, but many people treat it as an unquestioned truth. John Sullivan came to this small company as a director partly to challenge himself, and for another reason that, relying on her female intuition, Olivia Foster also knew, but couldn’t be bothered to think about.

But John Sullivan did have some real ability and connections. In just two months, he’d achieved five hundred thousand in sales, which made Olivia Foster feel that hiring him herself wasn’t a mistake. So even though he was a bit wild, Olivia Foster could tolerate it. But seeing the way he treated Edward Clark, Olivia Foster actually felt a rare surge of anger. As a person, you must at least show basic respect to others. Relationships are mutual—if you don’t respect others, how can you expect them to respect you?

“Edward Clark, let’s go.” Olivia Foster said, ignoring the burning gaze from John Sullivan, and took the lead toward the elevator. Edward Clark withdrew his hand. John Sullivan didn’t notice, his attention entirely on Olivia Foster, not seeing the eyes behind those wide-rimmed glasses, which showed a trace of mockery and sadness.

“Mr. Foster.” John Sullivan called out, watching the two enter the elevator. As the doors closed, his view was cut off, and he couldn’t help but feel a bit confused. “What did I do wrong?”

……

“Mr. Clark, I’m very sorry.” Olivia Foster actually took the initiative to apologize for her subordinate. Maybe, as a boss, mediating between subordinates is also very important.

“Sorry?” Edward Clark laughed. “Because Director John Sullivan wouldn’t shake my hand?”

Olivia Foster was taken aback, unable to help but reassess Edward Clark. This might have been the most insightful thing she’d heard him say since meeting him. Could it be true, as the saying goes, ‘Even a fool may have a wise thought’? She also noticed that when Edward Clark kept a straight face, he looked silly, but when he smiled, he was actually quite handsome!

“That’s right, he was a bit rude this time. But if you work with him for a while, you might find he’s actually very capable.” Olivia Foster sighed. In fact, for someone as young as John Sullivan in such a position, how many really understand manners? They can instantly tell who’s worth befriending and who’s worth getting close to. Someone like Edward Clark would immediately be put on John Sullivan’s blacklist. That’s just habit, so you can’t really blame John Sullivan for being cold to Edward Clark.

“Work with him for a while?” Edward Clark muttered, repeating the phrase, a faint smile appearing at the corner of his mouth. How long would that be—one month, or two?

By the time the two of them reached the downstairs restaurant, there were already far fewer people eating. In this hurried city, people live hurried lives. For workers, lunch breaks are always short; after hastily grabbing a bite, they rush to rest, because only with enough rest can they face the next round of challenges.