Chapter 12: Applying Medicine for Him
The atmosphere felt a bit stiff. Julian Faulkner sat at his desk, flipping through a stack of documents without looking up at Vivian Lowell, though his brows remained tightly knitted. It was hard to tell if the scratches on his hand were bothering him.
Vivian sighed inwardly. Upholding her self-appointed duty as his rescuer, she picked up the ointment and slowly walked over to him.
Vance Wyatt had prepared thoroughly. Rubbing alcohol and iodine for disinfection, small cotton balls, and wound ointment—he had bought several types of each, more than enough for Julian to use.
"President Faulkner." Vivian pulled up a small stool and sat down in front of him. She opened the rubbing alcohol, dipped a cotton ball into it, and leaned closer to his side.
She caught a whiff of the faint cologne on him. It was the same steady, understated scent she had noticed outside the marriage registry, a fragrance that made his entire aura feel all the more noble.
At her call, Julian looked over. His gaze paused on the cotton ball in her hand, and he very consciously extended his arm. He laid his wrist flat in front of her.
Vivian carefully took the alcohol-soaked cotton and dabbed at his scratches.
"It might sting a little, President Faulkner. Bear with it for a moment, I’ll be as quick as I can." She softened her tone, treating him as gently as she would a little kitten, lightly running the small cotton ball over his wrist and the back of his hand.
Julian didn’t make a sound. Knowing his temperament, she figured he wouldn’t complain even if it did hurt.
Vivian worked quickly. After wiping the area twice with alcohol, she applied a layer of iodine, followed by the ointment.
Finally, just as she was about to grab a bandage to wrap his wounds, Julian pulled his hand back. "It’s a minor injury. There’s no need for that," he said flatly.
Vivian paused, then put the bandage away and packed up the medical supplies. It made sense. He was a corporate president; wrapping his hand in bandages just because a cat scratched him would probably be making a mountain out of a molehill.
"President Faulkner," Vivian said as she stood up, having packed everything away. She placed the supplies on the corner of his desk and added, "I have things to do, so I’ll be going now."
"Mhm," Julian replied softly, his head still lowered over his documents.
Vivian turned around, but just as she was about to leave, Julian suddenly asked from behind her, "Where is your pet hospital? I’ll have Vance pick you up later."
Vivian spun back around in surprise. If it weren’t for the completely placid, business-like look in his eyes, she would have thought he was asking her out on a date!
Julian looked at her. Perhaps realizing that his words sounded a bit ambiguous, he added, "Grandma said she wants to have dinner with you."
So it was for Grandma Faulkner.
Vivian understood, but she remembered her prior arrangement with Eleanor Rhodes. They had agreed to attend Professor Sterling’s lecture and then try to invite him to dinner to create an opportunity for Eleanor.
"I have other plans for tonight," she said after a moment of thought. "But I’ll head back as early as I can! If Grandma hasn’t gone to bed by then, I can cook some late-night snacks for her.
"It won’t be too late, nine o’clock at the latest!"
Grandma Faulkner had a very regular schedule and usually went to bed at ten. If Vivian got back by nine, there would still be plenty of time.
"Mhm." Julian didn’t press the issue. He gave a soft hum of agreement and went back to his documents.
Vivian breathed a sigh of relief. Before leaving, she reminded him, "Although being scratched by a kitten usually isn’t a big deal, it’s still necessary to apply the ointment on time.
"Also, if you feel unwell later, you need to see a doctor immediately."
"Alright," Julian agreed, and only then did Vivian leave.
Special Assistant Wyatt’s workstation was right outside the CEO’s office. Vance had just finished processing the resignation for the female assistant from earlier and was gesturing that she was free to go.
The assistant was weeping softly. Clutching her belongings, she refused to leave, begging him to put in a good word for her. "Special Assistant Wyatt! I really didn’t do it on purpose! Could you please plead with President Faulkner for me? Ask him to give me one more chance! I promise I won’t ever make the same mistake again!"
The assistant was pretty, with fair skin, and her tear-stained face looked incredibly pitiful. It was a sight that would naturally evoke sympathy—assuming the onlooker didn’t know the full story. Vivian didn’t have a good impression of this sharp-tongued woman. Seeing the scene unfold, she decided not to get involved and simply walked toward the elevators.
As soon as Vivian moved, the assistant spotted her. Acting like she had found a lifeline, the woman rushed over. She blocked Vivian’s path, throwing her arms out to stop her from leaving.
"I really didn’t mean to do it. Can’t you just forgive me?
"You don’t even work for our company. Why won’t you let this go?"
Vivian stared at her in astonishment. It seemed this assistant wasn’t just sharp-tongued; she was outright brainless. It was a mystery how she had ever managed to pass the campus recruitment to enter the Faulkner Group. She must have gotten in through the backdoor.
"Miss," Vivian said as she pushed the woman aside. Glancing at the nearby security desk, she added, "If you keep pestering me, I’ll call security over.
"When you’re finally thrown out of the Faulkner Group, you won’t get to leave with whatever dignity you have left. You’ll be dragged out."
Just as her words fell, Vance, who had hurried over and heard Vivian, immediately raised his voice. "Security!"
Several guards immediately rushed out of the security room at his call. They surrounded the group, genuinely preparing to drag the female assistant away.
Seeing this, the assistant finally realized she was out of her depth. Terrified to pester Vivian any further, she cried, clutched her box of belongings, and hurriedly jabbed the elevator button to escape.
The world was quiet again. Vance dismissed the security guards before approaching Vivian with a completely sincere smile. "Um, Ma—Miss Lowell, is there anything else I can help you with?"
It was far too sincere. If his eyes hadn’t been shining with such genuine earnestness, and if he hadn’t nearly slipped up and called her "Madam" in public, Vivian might have thought he was secretly in love with her.
"No." Vivian shook her head. But just as she politely declined, she remembered something and asked, "Does this building have any floors available for rent to the public? I’d like to rent a few rooms for a studio."
"We do!" Vance smiled. He pulled a business card from his suit jacket pocket and handed it to her. "This is my WhatsApp. Please add me, and I’ll send the details over to you!
"This entire building belongs to the Faulkner Group. If you’d like to rent a space, you can just sign the contract directly with President Faulkner later!
"By the way, Miss Lowell, where are you heading? Would you like me to arrange a driver for you?"