It was seven in the morning and the sky outside was already bright. Inside, Mrs. Jones was still fast asleep. Jenny had already gotten out of bed. She had gotten into the habit of going to work and woke up at this hour almost every day to change clothes. After two days of recovery, under her mother's care of six meals a day, she had gained a bit of weight. Turning around to look in the mirror, there was no sign she had been sick; in fact, she looked more radiant than before. Only now did Jenny feel that she really shouldn't be ungrateful. Apart from her own mother, who could take care of her like this? It was just a bit noisy on the ears. Carrying her bag out of the apartment building, she instinctively wanted to walk, but caught sight of the carriage that had been sitting empty in the corner, waiting. She hesitated for a moment, then turned and walked over. The coachman looked no different from the others squatting by the roadside waiting for fares, only he was more robust, didn't talk much, and didn't look around. He asked her where she was going as usual. "To Dawling Building. By the way, what's your name?" Jenny couldn't just ignore someone she saw on the roadside every day. "Luseth Owen, miss." She nodded for him to drive, thinking that at least she wouldn't have to worry about being ambushed by enemies on the roadside and beaten in a sack. Arriving at Dawling Building, Jenny walked in with her name tag pinned to her chest as usual. When she reached the stair hall, she happened to run into Frank, who had arrived just a step ahead. He looked at Jenny in surprise, seemed about to say something, then turned back to continue talking to Joel, the editor-in-chief of the literature department. A while ago, such a big incident happened, and the whole company knew what she had done. When he learned she had taken sick leave, Frank also went to the downstairs of her new home with gifts, intending to see her. A young girl living alone and sick was really too pitiful. What if no one was taking care of her? Maybe if he went to see her at this time, she would remember his kindness. However, he first ran into Mrs. Jones, who was buying meat downstairs. At that time, Mrs. Jones was haggling with someone in the deli shop downstairs, looking quite fierce, with a rustic manner. Frank had intended to ask the concierge which apartment Jenny lived in, but when he heard the concierge greet Mrs. Jones, he confirmed that this woman was the mother Jenny had mentioned. He stood downstairs hesitating for a long time. First, he worried that Jenny didn't want Mrs. Jones to know about his existence, and if he went rashly, it would annoy her. Second, he was afraid Mrs. Jones would mistake him for a womanizer. So in the end, he didn't go upstairs. Jenny waited for the hydraulic elevator to descend and went in with the others. Recently, the magazine department with the worst atmosphere had been reorganized by the boss, causing quite a stir. Everyone in the building had heard about it. Jenny felt that the people in the elevator car were sneaking glances at her, as if watching a spectacle. Frank wanted to greet her, but the floor had arrived, and Jenny walked out with her head down. Back in the secretarial office, everything was exactly the same as when Jenny had last come. Today, she deliberately stood at the door and looked inside. In the wide open space, two rows of secretarial assistants and clerks sat with poker faces, doing their own tasks, with an indifference that could ignore even someone dying beside them. Even the most outgoing, Derby and Giddy, were like that. Jenny suddenly realized that she had been very conspicuous among this group from the start. Any discerning person could instantly see why she was here. She had also noticed it at first, perhaps because someone had taken a whim, so she had come. But at that time, she selectively ignored it, pretending not to notice, and with wishful thinking continued to stand at this higher vantage point with a broader view, wanting to seize the opportunity to absorb all the real knowledge here. Then she was observed closely for a while, until the false accusation incident. What she did was too aggressive, making people feel that she had not acted properly and needed to be controlled. But he hadn't given her a luxury car or a mansion, nor thrown a large sum of money at her, nor made her leave the company to become a companion completely isolated from society. He definitely didn't want to turn her into a useless ornament kept at home. Jenny gave a cold snort and returned to her seat, sitting down as usual. That night, she had scrutinized him for a long time but hadn't seen any excess emotion or desire on his face. He was just like her, only observing. She hadn't seen him resist or beg her to let him go, nor had she seen her actively clinging or seducing. He had only seen her observing him. Jenny didn't think being noticed by the boss and having to engage in some kind of affair was a blessing, and after calming down and thinking it through, she didn't think it was a disaster either. She looked at the empty office, then looked outside. Footsteps sounded, and Mr. Zweit walked in from outside. In the past, when the boss passed by her in the morning on his way to work, she always kept her head down. Today, Jenny didn't lower her head. She looked straight ahead, meeting Mr. Zweit's gaze. He nodded indifferently, appearing no different from usual. Jenny's eyes followed him into the office, and she couldn't help clenching her hands. She collected herself and looked at Mr. Densite, who came in afterward. She exchanged a few pleasantries with him, and Mr. Densite called her into a cubicle to talk. He got straight to business. "Mr. Alpha has selected Fujena to replace Clare as the director's secretary. This matter normally isn't under my jurisdiction, but the people he picks are always unreliable. Especially for such a secretary position, it has a considerable impact on the editorial office. You know her better, what do you think of this person?" Jenny thought for a moment and said coldly, "About on par with Clare." Upon hearing this, Mr. Densite roughly understood her meaning. "I see." "By the way, after Mr. Eliot learned about Clare's incident, he wrote a letter to the boss wanting to invite him to dinner. The boss agreed. It's today. I'm still busy, so you accompany him. Remember to report back to me everything Mr. Eliot says." Mr. Densite leaned back in his chair and opened a newspaper. He was not clear about the situation between the boss and Jenny. But the boss had instructed him yesterday: if she came today and wanted to resign or transfer, then write her a recommendation letter and have her go work at Murray. If she didn't mention anything, then have her accompany him to meet Mr. Eliot. Mr. Densite inexplicably felt that the boss's indirect communication style was too inefficient. He put down the newspaper, looked at Jenny who was still hesitating about whether to agree to go on the off-site assignment, and suddenly decided to sell out the boss and also test her. He laid out both arrangements to her completely, then squinted after finishing. "Why did he instruct these? Although the boss is the boss, I am your superior. I should know, shouldn't I?" "He really said that?" Jenny said incoherently. If she had hesitated and the secretary hadn't mentioned it, she might never have known that she had this chance to run. He indeed had enough means to deal with anyone. "Well, I don't know why he said that either. Maybe you should ask the boss? I'm not planning to quit." Mr. Densite observed Jenny's subtle change in attitude, rolled his eyes, and felt that something must have happened. "I see. Then go ahead." Jenny left the cubicle and walked toward the office. On the way, she met Giddy, who was going to submit his manuscript. They knocked and entered the office together. Mr. Zweit was talking to Senior Secretary Benjamin. Benjamin seemed to have finished reporting on what he was busy with. Jenny had recently felt that this senior secretary was elusive and didn't know what he was up to. She waited at the door for Giddy to finish submitting his manuscript and leave, then she reached out and closed the door. When she turned around, Mr. Zweit had his arms crossed over his chest. He took off his reading glasses from his nose, looked up at her, his expression unchanged. "You look much better." "Can Mr. Eliot come back?" They spoke simultaneously but said different things. Jenny shut her mouth. Mr. Zweit shook his head. "Depends on his performance. I don't know if after so long, he has realized his mistakes and is prepared to change." "What if his temper has improved? Now it seems there is no place for him in the weekly magazine, except for the editor-in-chief position." She saw Mr. Zweit casually pick up a newspaper and flip through it. He sat upright, seeming to have a lot of patience for her. "There are arrangements for him. You'll know later." Having said that, he didn't shoo her out. He lowered his head to read the newspaper, leaving her standing in the middle. "Anything else?" Jenny wanted to ask him why he had to tease her and look down on her like this. She hesitated for a long time, then turned and walked out quickly, slamming the door shut. Mr. Zweit looked at the door, silently calculating that it had only been a few days and she was already giving him attitude. He raised an eyebrow. In the evening, the carriage slowly made its way along Fifth Avenue. Jenny sat in the corner of the carriage, turning her eyes to the window, watching the sunset sky, without saying a word. Across from her, Mr. Zweit sat for a long time, unable to figure out what she was brooding about. He thought maybe girls of eighteen or nineteen were just like that. Mr. Eliot had arranged to meet the boss at New York's most famous Crown Restaurant. After they arrived, the waiter led them to a table by the window in the main hall. Jenny saw Mr. Eliot again. He seemed not much different from before, wearing an elegant formal dinner tailcoat like the boss, his hair slicked back shiny, showing no signs of dejection and no resentment in his eyes. "Jenny, long time no see. Ah, boss, long time no see." Mr. Eliot stood up and shook hands with them, then sat down with a smile and began exchanging pleasantries with the boss. Mr. Zweit asked how he had been doing lately. Mr. Eliot said he had finished reading several sets of books, reconciled with his wife, and seemed not completely averse to being suspended. "At first, I really felt wronged, but after thinking it through, I still think most of the problems were mine." Mentioning Clare, Mr. Eliot was somewhat emotional. "He is a smart person. Over the years, I gave him many chances, hoping he would take the right path, but he never took the opportunity. It's also my fault for being too complacent, not seeing his resentment toward me, which led to so many things happening later." Mr. Eliot changed the subject and asked Jenny to go find the waiter and get a wet towel for him. Jenny knew he had something to say to the boss, so she stood up and walked away. Mr. Eliot began to talk about the incident of Clare being fired. He also felt that there was something suspicious about it, and someone must be pulling the strings behind the scenes. Mr. Zweit pretended not to know and asked who he thought it might be. "If I may speak frankly, this Alpha has a big problem." Mr. Eliot said, "As far as I know, he often contacts promising authors privately, takes them in and out of various clubs. Among his favorite clubs, there is a casino, and he also runs a bank. I heard that this time Eugene was also in debt. Which casino does he owe money to?" Mr. Zweit thought of the names Benjamin had reported this morning. Whether it was Finney or Bard, and even people who had worked under Alpha's section in the past, except for Mr. Eliot himself, they had all spent a lot of money at that casino. An hour later, Jenny followed Mr. Zweit out of the restaurant. He walked ahead with long strides, while she followed behind with her head down. Once in the carriage, the coachman asked where to go first. Mr. Zweit gave her home address. The carriage moved slowly. He turned his head and saw that she was still staring out the window, her back to him. Somehow, he wanted to tease her with words. "You didn't hide a knife under your pillow, did you?" Hearing this, Jenny indeed turned her head, looking flustered, pursing her lips tightly, her face turning red and white.
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