Mistaking a Magnate for a Male Escort

Charlotte took a peek at Jackson and felt greatly humiliated. Judging by Jackson’s wrinkled face and flabby stomach, Charlotte thought he should be around her father’s age.

Sharon has such a brilliant plan, but does she really think she can get rid of me by setting me up for a blind date with this old man?

Is it even necessary for her to go to great lengths to get rid of me when I haven’t made any move or gotten in her way with Zachary’s relationship?

Why is she sending this disgusting old man my way again when I have forgiven her for stepping on my hand and giving me a hard time? She should stay away from me because I have returned the check through Lucy’s help!

“Charlotte, you seem to be pretty young. How old are you?”On one hand, Jackson’s eyes gleamed in excitement and looked at Charlotte differently.

On the other hand, Charlotte remained silent throughout the conversation because she could barely keep a straight face in front of the old man anymore.

Lucy stepped in to get Charlotte out of the nasty situation. “Ms. Blackwood, I’m sure you’re kidding! I don’t think Charlotte deserves Mr. White when she’s just a rookie in the corporate world.”

“What do you mean she doesn’t deserve—”

“Aren’t you hungry? Why don’t you hurry up and finish your meal?” Zachary broke the silence, stating indifferently before Sharon could finish her sentence.

Sharon winced at Zachary’s words because it was evident the man was trying to protect Charlotte.

I believe most of us are hungry since we have been out for the entire morning!” Jackson was an observant man.

Wright, Mr. Ben, have

table and started engaging himself in a conversation with Ben and Lucy to get himself out

up the tension that was built up over the past

himself and took a sip of the red

embarrassed after Zachary reprimanded her in front of others. She secretly held a grudge against

herself away—she had no choice but

wine from my precious collection.

glass of drink. “Ms. Blackwood, why don’t you give it a try as well? The president has complimented it after savoring it

sip as suggested and stated, “Mmm… It’s not

Ms. Wright, Charlotte, you guys should

of drink. When it was Charlotte’s turn, a leg

remaining wine that was in the decanter on

shrieked and got up

from her collar, soaking her white shirt crimson red, exposing her supple yet busty

apologized, “I-I’m

over in an attempt to wipe Charlotte’s shirt dry on her