Mysterious Mrs. Pansy

Patrick loosened his tie, irritation evident on his face. He clenched his jaw as he gazed out at the passing traffic. His anger wasn’t directed at Jane but at himself. He regretted initiating that conversation with her. Patrick couldn’t fathom why he felt so uneasy whenever she remained silent and ignored him. He should have done the same, given her apparent lack of interest.

The remainder of the drive home was a quiet and uneventful one.

Upon arriving at the villa, Patrick swiftly exited the car and entered the house. Jane, on the other hand, took her time.

When she finally entered, she found Patrick seated on the living room sofa, holding a glass of water. She didn’t spare him a second glance and made her way upstairs.

Patrick placed his glass on the table with an audible thud, emitting a deep, growling sigh. Jane’s indifference was akin to a wound that wouldn’t stop bleeding.

Despite the noise, Jane didn’t stop or look back. She continued her slow ascent up the stairs. Was he creating a fuss because of what she had said? His behavior seemed excessively sensitive. How could he manage Pansy Group with such a thin skin? Weren’t his family concerned that his sensitivity would jeopardize the family business?

The following morning, Beatrice and Melissa persisted in their criticism of Jane during breakfast, following their usual routine.

Jane, having developed a thick skin over time, remained silent. Her silence only seemed to fuel their frustration. They had been hoping for a shouting match with her that morning, but it appeared that wouldn’t be the case now.

As Jane finished her breakfast, she acted as though she were the sole occupant of the dining table. Following her meal, she freshened up and headed off to work.

Her role as a secretary was a breeze, given her natural diligence. She efficiently completed her tasks in the morning, had lunch, and then indulged in a brief nap.

By 3 o’clock in the afternoon, Jane headed to the bathroom. Upon her return, she was met with a pile of documents resting on her desk, left there by Monica, who was conspicuously standing nearby.

Jane was quick to question the appearance of the documents. “Why are these on my desk?”

Monica retorted, “The data in these documents must be input into the company’s system today. Another secretary was meant to share the workload with you, but he had an emergency and left earlier than usual. You’ll have to tackle this alone. Finish it all by the end of the day. Ensure the data is accurately organized because it’s needed tomorrow. Is that clear?”

Jane silently sifted through the stack of documents, realizing the sheer volume of work that lay ahead. It was a substantial task that would require hours of labor. She would likely have to work overtime if she hoped to complete it alone by the end of the day.

“Why didn’t you give these to me earlier? This is a substantial workload,” Jane inquired.

Monica pointed at her menacingly. “Oh, come on! What’s so challenging about handling basic data records? You can’t fault me for assigning them now. Understand that I was only notified about this recently. Things can be quite unpredictable in this workplace. Your status as Mr. Pansy’s fiancée doesn’t exempt you from your responsibilities here. As the department head, I have every right to delegate tasks to you. If you can’t handle it, feel free to quit.”

It was glaringly obvious that Monica was intentionally making things difficult for Jane. However, Jane refused to be beaten down.

“Very well, I’ll take care of it.”

With this, Jane seated herself and began working.

A sinister smile crept across Monica’s face. She had actually known about this task since the morning. Seeing that Jane had completed her other duties so swiftly, she had deliberately granted the other secretary a day off.

She had remained silent until almost the end of the workday. The task was substantial, and Monica calculated that Jane would be laboring until late into the night. She expected Jane to be exhausted even if she managed to finish.

“Remember, make no mistakes. Every single figure must be precise. A single error could render the entire dataset useless and cost the company dearly,” Monica admonished.

Jane’s patience was wearing thin. She responded impatiently, “Anything else? If you have something important to say, just say it all at once.”

Monica felt humiliated in front of her colleagues. She considered it a slap in the face, as no one in the department had ever dared to go against her or speak to her in such a manner. She was furious that this newcomer had addressed her so brazenly.

With clenched fists, Monica glared at Jane and stormed away, muttering under her breath, “Stupid girl! You may be all smiles now, but you’ll cry later. This is just the beginning. A more severe punishment awaits. You’ll have no one to help you here. You’re on your own.”