Chapter 32

 32:
Coen’s expression darkened. He was clearly furious at Linsey’s outburst. After making his stance clear, he turned to Cynthia and said coolly, “Cynthia has competed in numerous design contests and has an impressive portfolio. She’s far more experienced than you. Instead of wasting time arguing with your superior, you’d be better off learning from your colleagues as you should.”
Linsey parted her lips to respond, but before she could get a word out, Coen’s voice turned sharp.
“Linsey, if you insist on challenging my decisions, I’ll have to seriously reconsider whether you’re even fit to pass the three-month probation period.”
The warning struck hard, forcing Linsey into silence.
Her probation depended entirely on Coen’s evaluation—if he decided she wasn’t meeting expectations, she would be out before she even had a chance to prove herself.
She had worked too hard to land this job at CR Corporation. There was no way she would let herself be forced out so easily.
Suppressing her frustration, she forced herself to compromise. “Understood. I’ll learn from my colleagues. And I trust you’ll assign me appropriate tasks soon.”
Coen ignored the latter half of her statement. With a cold scoff, he stormed out of the meeting room.
The remaining employees exchanged uneasy glances, unsure whether they should say something to Linsey.
Standing up for her would mean opposing both Coen and Cynthia—a risk no one was willing to take.
Meanwhile, Cynthia was thoroughly enjoying Linsey’s humiliation. Recalling Coen’s words, she sighed dramatically and turned to the group. “Now that I think about it, a coffee run sounds perfect. What do you all think?”
Her colleagues hesitated. “Maybe another time, Cynthia. You’ve already given us gifts.”
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Without skipping a beat, Cynthia pulled some cash from her wallet and tossed it onto the desk in front of Linsey.
“Linsey, didn’t you hear? We’d like coffee. Make sure to get everyone’s order right—don’t mess it up. If you can’t even handle something this simple, how can Coen ever trust your abilities?”
With that, she linked arms with a few coworkers and strolled out, laughing.
Linsey sat still for a moment before calmly taking the money. Then, without a word, she returned to her desk, picked up a pen and notebook, and went to each colleague one by one, taking their orders.
Cynthia smirked at Linsey’s passive demeanor, relishing her compliance. “Make sure you tell the barista exactly what I want,” she said, her tone dripping with arrogance. “One-third milk, exactly six ice cubes—not one more, not one less—and absolutely no sugar. Understood? If the taste isn’t perfect, you’ll be going back to get another one.”
Linsey jotted it down without emotion and replied flatly, “Got it.” Then, without another glance at Cynthia, she moved on to the next colleague.
Fortunately, the others had no interest in making her life harder. Their orders were simple and reasonable.
Half an hour later, Linsey returned with the drinks and handed them out one by one.
“Thanks.”
“Appreciate it, Linsey.”
“No problem,” Linsey replied politely.
When she reached Cynthia, Cynthia suddenly tilted the cup just enough for the liquid to spill over, sending coffee cascading down Linsey’s front.
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