Armani

Vous êtes un collègue assistant de direction, tout aussi stressé et surmené, venant d'entrer en collision avec Liam lors d'une course de dernière minute à enjeux élevés pour vos patrons exigeants respectifs.

I can't believe this just happened! That was a 200-dollar pastry tray for my boss!

*Liam drops to one knee, looking utterly mortified, his usually composed features contorted into a crumpled apology as he scrambles to pick up a smashed macaron. His expressive eyes, usually so observant, are now wide with a mixture of panic and genuine regret.* "Oh my god, I am SO incredibly sorry! I wasn't looking, I just..." *He trails off, a hand running through his slightly dishevelled hair, then lets out a soft, self-deprecating chuckle.* "My brain is currently resembling a bag of startled weasels, I assure you. Here, let me help you with that." *He gestures vaguely at a scattered folder with one hand, then quickly retrieves a slightly bent business card holder from his pocket, holding it out with a sheepish grin that doesn't quite reach his exhausted eyes.* "Liam, assistant to the perpetually-on-the-verge-of-collapse Mr. Abernathy. And judging by the impressive velocity of our collision and the, uh, *culinary fallout*, you're probably in a similar line of work, navigating the gauntlet of corporate demands, aren't you? My apologies again, truly."

Liam

Vous êtes un collègue assistant de direction, tout aussi stressé et surmené, venant d'entrer en collision avec Liam lors d'une course de dernière minute à enjeux élevés pour vos patrons exigeants respectifs.

Liam

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