CHAPTER 52: CHAPTER 52- BIG BOSS

He couldn’t possibly be that unappealing, could he?

Yet she had looked him straight in the eye and so firmly declared that she had no improper feelings toward him. If anything, he wished she’d feel a little something inappropriate.

But the irritation could only be swallowed down.

Take it slow, he told himself.

Her little sensitivities, her small pride, her subtle stubbornness—he saw all of it clearly. And just now... he really had pushed her a bit too hard.

He stepped back, putting some space between them, and snapped impatiently,

"We’re leaving together later."

Catherine jumped in surprise. Leaving together? But they were now boss and employee—shouldn’t they avoid suspicion? What if rumors started circulating?

Bert gritted his teeth and said,

"We’re going to the mall. You’re paying for my clothes."

His mood was so sour that he felt he needed to mess with her a bit to vent. So he brought up the matter of compensating him for the ruined clothes again. His clothes were expensive, and she cared about money, didn’t she? Seeing her uncomfortable... somehow soothed him.

Catherine had no way to refuse—she did owe him, after all.

"Ten minutes. Meet me in the basement parking lot."

With that, Bert left the conference room first. Catherine followed after, dragging her steps.

Amy and Silvia were just about to leave when they saw Catherine come out, looking gloomy. Silvia hurried over, concern written all over her face.

"I just saw the big boss walk out of the conference room looking furious. Don’t tell me... you got scolded?"

Silvia felt genuinely bad for Catherine. She hadn’t even officially started working yet and already got chewed out by the boss—what a tragic start.

Catherine thought bitterly that what she went through was worse than a scolding.

Amy glanced at her, then spoke in the tone of a seasoned veteran,

"Getting scolded by your boss is normal. No need to look that defeated."

Amy’s tone was dismissive, but it was still her way of consoling Catherine—telling her that this was just how workplaces worked. If you mess up, you get reprimanded.

Catherine understood the message behind Amy’s words. She gave her a small smile.

"Thank you, Amy."

If it had really just been a scolding, she would’ve gladly accepted it. But now she had to go burn money buying new clothes for the big boss. Her heart was bleeding.

Amy gave her one more look, said nothing else, and walked away.

Silvia, however, invited her warmly,

"Catherine! Let’s go eat together. We should celebrate getting hired today!"

Maybe because they were both newcomers, Silvia felt especially close to her. Catherine really wanted to go and bond with her colleague. But then she remembered a certain boss’s icy command... and could only apologize.

"Sorry... I’ve got something I need to take care of later..."

Silvia looked disappointed but understanding.

"No worries. Go handle it. We’ll have plenty of chances to eat together from now on!"

After happily saying goodbye, Silvia left. Catherine was the only one remaining. She trudged back to the reception room to pick up her bag, then took the elevator down to the basement parking lot.

She wasn’t sure if Silvia owned a car, but Amy definitely did. That was why Catherine deliberately slowed her pace—she wanted them gone before she reached the parking lot.

No way could she let them see what she was about to do.

When Catherine finally found Bert’s car in the parking garage, Bert was already sitting inside.

She slid into the passenger seat, a little tense, and immediately got met with his displeasure.

"Why are you so slow?"

Catherine stayed silent. He had said ten minutes—she had taken twenty. Of course he would complain...

For a brief moment, Catherine thought the way he complained looked completely different from the cold and aloof image she had of him before.

This version of him felt... down-to-earth. Real.

She stayed quiet, and Bert didn’t say anything more either. He simply started the engine and drove off.

The second interview had been in the afternoon, and by now the sun was already setting. Catherine called Renata, told her she had passed the interview and got the job, and reminded her to buy something simple for dinner—Catherine had something she needed to take care of.

She had to accompany a certain big boss to buy clothes, and she had no idea when they would finish.

Renata was about to be discharged from the hospital. She could move around fine and could go to the cafeteria on her own, so she told Catherine not to worry and to focus on her errands.

After Catherine hung up, the man beside her asked,

"When is your mom getting discharged?"

"Tomorrow morning."

Catherine answered truthfully. He continued,

"Go to work after your mother is home and settled."

"...Thank you."

Catherine murmured. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw his hand resting on the steering wheel—long, strong fingers, and a thick ring around his index finger that only emphasized his masculine sharpness.

Bert didn’t actually like wearing rings. The only reason he wore one on his index finger was to cover a tattoo.

The tattoo wasn’t big—just the letter m, taken from his family name, Washington. A slightly thicker ring was enough to hide it.

He had gotten the tattoo very young, when he first started to understand the concept of carrying one’s family name. Back then, he naively thought that engraving the name on his skin would somehow make him a legitimate descendant of the Burg Eltz line.

But he hid it now. After all, he planned to live and work long-term in this country, and many people here were still conservative. Unlike in the West, where tattoos were common, here a tattoo often made people assume someone was a delinquent or untrustworthy. He cared about his own public image, and even more about the reputation of the designers under him. He didn’t want clients to think he—or the person leading their designers—was unreliable and lose business because of it.

The tattoo had been with him for so many years, so he didn’t want to remove it. Hiding it with a ring was the easiest choice.

The car eventually pulled into the parking lot of a large shopping mall, and Catherine followed Bert inside.

They walked one in front of the other. Catherine didn’t want to walk too close to him. A man like him entering a mall was bound to attract attention—especially from women. Catherine couldn’t handle being caught in those stares, so she automatically fell behind him.

But he insisted on walking slowly—slow enough to look relaxed and leisurely. If Catherine slowed down any further behind him, she’d practically be walking in slow motion. She had no choice but to force herself to walk beside him.

Catherine headed straight for the men’s clothing section. She wanted nothing more than to finish quickly, buy the clothes, and part ways. But the moment she walked into a men’s store and turned around, she saw him casually wandering into the women’s boutique next door.

Catherine was speechless. Then she thought—maybe he was buying something for someone else. He did have a younger sister he spoiled a lot. Buying clothes for his sister wasn’t surprising. So she stepped out of the men’s store and followed him into the women’s boutique.

Catherine had no intention of buying anything. All those beautiful clothes were just decorations to her. She was simply accompanying him. Even when the lovely store staff kept recommending and praising outfits behind them, she remained completely unmoved.

The clothes here were outrageously expensive. Even if she did want new clothes, she would never buy them here.

After browsing for a while, he suddenly asked,

"Not buying anything?"

Catherine froze a moment, then shook her head.

"No..."

His gaze swept over the outfit she was wearing. His brows furrowed slightly.

"You think what you’re wearing now is suitable for work?"

Catherine blinked in confusion.

"What’s wrong with it?"

She thought her clothes were perfectly decent—clean, modest, appropriate. Sure, they weren’t from luxury brands, but no one required that.

He didn’t answer her question. Instead, he reached out, grabbed a dress from a nearby rack, and handed it to her.

"Try this one."

Catherine waved frantically.

"No, no—I’m not buying anything. You just pick what you want—"

Bert gave her a glance, withdrew his hand, and shoved the dress into the arms of the salesgirl who had been following them.

"Pack it. Extra small."

The salesgirl nodded eagerly. Bert then grabbed several more items—tops, pants, skirts—and handed them all to the salesgirl as well, instructing her to pack everything in the smallest size.

"Wait!"

Catherine could no longer stay calm. She rushed to stop the salesgirl, then grabbed Bert by the arm and dragged him out of the store.

"What are you doing? I’m not buying clothes, and I don’t want you buying them either! If my mom sees me wearing something this expensive, she’ll kill me!"

She was so agitated that her hand remained tightly wrapped around Bert’s arm.