Chapter 40: Got Hit?
"Alright, head back now. Just take the executive elevator down and switch from there. You can come straight up whenever you want from now on. No one’s on this floor for the time being."
Asher Keating patted her on the waist. Leah Sinclair snapped back to reality, said "okay," and left. But when she reached the door, she suddenly turned back, wrapped her arms around his neck, and gave him a quick kiss. Just as Asher Keating was about to kiss her back for longer, she ran off again.
Asher Keating touched his lips and smiled. The gesture settled the frustration that had been nagging at him. As he turned to get his glasses, he noticed Leah Sinclair had forgotten her work ID.
He picked it up and saw Leah Sinclair’s ID photo. She was smiling gently at him, her eyes bright and her teeth pearly white.
When Zion Sawyer saw her return, she asked, "Is your stomach feeling any better?"
"Yeah, I’m fine now." As Leah Sinclair looked down, she suddenly realized she’d forgotten her work ID. The company had a rule: failing to wear your ID would result in a one-hundred-yuan deduction. She couldn’t help but feel annoyed, hesitating over whether she should message Asher Keating to get it back.
A message came from Asher Keating. "Go get it from Sean Yates at the elevators."
Leah Sinclair hurried over. Sean Yates was just coming out. He glanced around to make sure no one was watching before handing her the ID. Leah thanked him and had just clipped it on when Todd Coleman stepped out of the elevator. Seeing Sean Yates, he was taken aback. "Assistant Yates, what brings you here?"
Sean Yates pressed the elevator button and said expressionlessly, "I found Leah Sinclair’s ID earlier, so I brought it to her."
"Tsk, so arrogant," Todd Coleman muttered, watching the elevator doors close.
Leah Sinclair just smiled. "Maybe all presidential assistants are like that."
The two of them chatted as they walked back to the office. Shortly before four o’clock, Mr. Langdon announced the details for that evening’s dinner. The location was The Paramount, not far from the company.
Zion Sawyer excitedly discussed it with Leah Sinclair and Todd Coleman. "President Keating is so generous! The Paramount, wow! I hear that place is super expensive."
Leah Sinclair had never been to the place either and didn’t know what it was like. But she figured anywhere Asher Keating arranged wouldn’t be cheap.
After work, the members of Project Department One and Project Department Two, a group of fifty to sixty people in total, set off in a great procession.
Since it wasn’t far, Leah Sinclair, Zion Sawyer, and Todd Coleman decided not to cram into cars with the rest of the department. Downstairs, each of them scanned a code for an electric scooter and set off. The weather was perfect, and the wind blowing against their faces was gentle.
Todd Coleman rode behind them, his gaze fixed on Leah Sinclair up ahead as she smiled and chatted with Zion Sawyer. The gentle glow of the evening sunset painted her face. From this angle, a faint, warm smile seemed to linger on her lips. He didn’t know what Zion Sawyer had said, but Leah pursed her lips in a soft laugh, and he found himself mesmerized.
"Hey, hey—whoa! Watch where you’re going!"
Lost in thought, Todd Coleman had accidentally bumped into a cyclist riding against traffic. Hearing the commotion, Leah Sinclair and Zion Sawyer quickly stopped and looked back.
"I’m so sorry, sir. I wasn’t paying attention," Todd Coleman quickly apologized.
"Tsk, you scraped the paint right off here. Nope, you’re going to have to pay me for this."
"...That’s not right, man. You were the one riding against traffic."
"You hit me. I don’t care if I was going the wrong way or not. Pay up!"
"What happened?" Leah Sinclair and Zion Sawyer asked, parking their scooters and running back.
"It’s nothing. Just a scammer. Let’s ignore him." Todd Coleman didn’t want to argue with the man and tried to move on, but the man blocked his way, and they started to quarrel.
"Sir, I think that’s Miss Sinclair."
Sean Yates was driving when he spotted the group on the access road. He spoke to Asher Keating in the back seat. Asher had been resting with his eyes closed, tired from an afternoon of meetings. At Sean’s words, he opened his eyes and glanced out the window. "Go see what’s going on. Bring the three of them back."
"Understood." Sean Yates pulled the car over to the side of the road.
"You can’t be this unreasonable! You call this a new bike? And that paint was scraped?" Zion Sawyer was speechless looking at the man’s bicycle. Not only did the bike look old, but the patch of paint he was pointing to had clearly been scraped off long ago.
"Sir, you were the one riding against traffic. You can’t be so irrational," Leah Sinclair said, frowning at the man. When she and Zion Sawyer had first arrived, they had tried to mediate, and Todd Coleman had stopped arguing. But the man was relentless, insisting Todd pay him and spewing vulgarities.
"Which one of your eyes saw me riding against traffic, huh?" the man shot back, deciding to play dumb.
"If you weren’t going against traffic, how could our friend have possibly hit the front of your bike right here?"
"I don’t care! Pay up."
"Then let’s call the police," Leah Sinclair said, no longer wanting to argue. She took out her phone to make the call.
"You damn bitch! You want to call the cops?!" the man snarled. Forgetting his bike, he lunged forward to snatch Leah Sinclair’s phone.
"What do you think you’re doing?" Todd Coleman scrambled to block him, while Zion Sawyer frantically pulled Leah Sinclair back. Just then, Sean Yates arrived. Seeing the situation, he grabbed the man’s arm, twisted it behind his back, and made him cry out in pain.
"Assistant Yates!" Zion Sawyer cried out when she saw Sean Yates appear.
Leah Sinclair glanced over and, sure enough, saw a Cullinan parked a short distance ahead with its hazard lights flashing. Sean Yates frowned and asked what was going on, all while keeping a firm grip on the man, ignoring his yelps.
Todd Coleman quickly explained what had happened. Seeing a crowd gathering, he started to feel a pang of regret. ’Should have just given him some money earlier,’ he thought.
"You want money?" Sean Yates asked, applying more pressure.
The man broke out in a cold sweat from the pain. "No, I don’t! I don’t want it!"
"Get lost," Sean Yates said, releasing him. The man hastily picked up his bicycle and fled. Sean then led the three of them toward the car.
When they reached the car, Zion Sawyer swallowed hard and whispered to Leah Sinclair, "A Rolls-Royce... This is my first time in one."
Sean Yates opened the car door for them. When the three saw Asher Keating, they quickly greeted him. Sean directed Todd Coleman to the front passenger seat. Zion Sawyer was too intimidated to sit next to the CEO, so Leah Sinclair got in first and sat beside Asher, after which Zion finally climbed in.
Asher Keating spoke coolly, "What happened?"
Zion Sawyer, who had been timid just a moment before, immediately perked up when he asked. "We were riding electric scooters to The Paramount, and Todd Coleman accidentally bumped into someone riding against traffic. Todd apologized, but the guy tried to scam him and demanded money! He was the one going the wrong way, but he acted all shameless. And when Leah was about to call the police, he tried to get violent! It was infuriating!"
"Did you get hit?" Asher Keating’s gaze turned chilly as he looked at Leah Sinclair.
"No, Assistant Yates arrived. Besides, there were three of us. There’s no way we would’ve gotten hit." Seeing the look in his eyes, Leah Sinclair knew she was in trouble and quickly added her reassurance.
’If others hadn’t been there, Asher Keating would have loved to pinch her cheek and scold her. What were you thinking, threatening a lowlife with the police? If scoundrels were afraid of the police, they wouldn’t be scoundrels.’
Asher Keating said nothing, and the car fell silent. Having vented her frustration, Zion Sawyer didn’t dare speak again. The main reason was that Asher was now radiating a "do not disturb" signal, and even someone as oblivious as Zion could feel it.
The incident had delayed them, and with it being late autumn, the sky outside had quickly darkened. Taking advantage of the dim light inside the car, Leah Sinclair reached out with her left hand and, in a placating gesture, hooked her finger around Asher Keating’s right hand, which was resting at his side.