If the Lincoln had a hole in the floor, Shirley Thorne probably would've crawled right through it.
She wiped the fine beads of sweat from her neck, her voice melodious. "Thank you for your concern, Mr. Grant. I'm doing great. How about you?"
"What do you think?"
Ethan Grant retorted, his tone still terrifyingly cold, raising a fresh wave of goosebumps on Shirley Thorne's skin.
Shirley Thorne gave a dry laugh and decided to come clean. "It's because you wouldn't listen to me, Mr. Grant! You just said no to everything I suggested, so I had no choice but to act first and ask for forgiveness later!"
A very distinct, heavy breath came from the other end of the line, as if someone was taking a deep breath to calm down.
'The great billionaire must be furious with me,' Shirley Thorne thought.
