The Wrong Woman

"Where's Candice," asked Elio.

"Mr. Hoffis, Candice just left with her bag," the employee replied respectfully.

Without a word, Elio turned and dashed toward the elevator, jabbing the button impatiently. As he watched the floor numbers shift slowly, he pulled out his phone and dialed Candice's number.

He listened to the connecting tone for a while before the call suddenly dropped. He dialed again, only for Candice to disconnect once more. After the third attempt ended in the same manner, he gave up resignedly.

By the time Elio made it outside the first-floor lobby, Candice was nowhere to be found. Feeling dejected, he returned upstairs. He was distracted all day, unable to concentrate on his work.

As night descended, the neon lights from outside illuminated Elio through the glass window. He stood by the window staring at the night sky with his hands in his pockets.

The bustling street below sharply contrasted with the emptiness he felt inside. He couldn't fathom why Candice had behaved this way.

Sean cautiously entered and spoke, "Mr. Hoffis, it's already 10:00 pm.

silent. His figure seemed isolated in the dimly lit room, exuding a chill that discouraged anyone

were with his loving wife

again that night. Even though the extra pay

is something

reply but walked out with purposeful strides. Sean quickly stepped to the side, standing stiffly as he

stayed silent, his expression stony as he stared out the window at the scenery

the wheel. After much internal debate, he finally decided to broach the subject. "Mr. Hoffis, is it because Ms. Morrison has been

at him, his gaze piercing and

back rigid as a shiver of cold sweat broke

trouble have been sparked by the film he

Hoffis, women can be quite sensitive. A clear explanation might help her understand. If not, I could speak to her on your behalf," he

asked weakly, "Sean, if a woman is willing to sleep with you, does that mean she's interested in you?" "Of course," Sean