Stay with me

Chapter 49 - You are my medicine

- Lаila! – A familiar, capricious voice sounded like a shot.

She twitched, opened her eyes sharply, and looked at the door. There, in a picture pose, leaning his shoulder against the doorframe, stood her personal inquisitor.

And why was he up against her? Didn't she bring food from expensive pastry shops? Brought! She flatters him shamelessly? Flattering! What else does he need?

Laila unclenched her teeth and said in a honeyed voice:

- Yes, Mr. Koray.

- And-and-and! Lazy! Sits here lounging, dreaming of Omyush! - He walked into the office and, stopping at the table, waved his index finger in front of her nose. - Forget! Omyush he wouldn't see you, like how he can't see his ears! He loves the skinny girl. Come on, lift your big ass, and trot to get the props for the photoshoot.

"Mr. Koray," Laila protested, barely holding back her anger. She got up from the table and picked up a folder with documents. - I am an assistant to Mr. Omer and running after the props is not my job.

- What?!! - The new director was indignant. - Not included in the duties?!

His words bounced off the retreating back of the assistant. She, shaking her hips, made her way to the boss's office. Opening the door, she smiled charmingly and said:

- Mr. Omer, your signature on letters to suppliers is urgently needed.

- Come in, - Iplikci's cold voice was heard.

Laila went inside and put the folder in front of the boss. Koray rushed after. He flew into Omer's office and shouted at the top of his lungs:

- Omyush! Kick this out ... Phew!!! What stinks here? There is a dead mouse behind the desk, or what? - He disgustedly covered his nose with two fingers.

Laila's face took on a burgundy hue. Omer shrugged. Looking through the letters, he answered indifferently:

"I don't think so. Rather, some of the employees have a dubious taste in choosing perfumes."

The redness on Laila's face was replaced by a deathly pallor. She seemed to have been slapped in the face. It's so hard. From all over the place. While she was recovering, Koray, waving his hand in front of his face, complained to Omer:

- Omyush, your assistant is not only ugly! She's also lazy. The entire office falls from its feet from fatigue, and she hides in her office. If you don't need her, let her go for the props!

- Okay, Koray, - Omer answered without raising his head from the documents and ordered his assistant: - Laila, give Nazlycan the letters, and then you will be at the disposal of Mr. Koray.

The proud concept director looked triumphantly at the stunned girl. She turned purple again and protested out loud:

- Mr. Omer, but I am your personal assistant. Props are not my job!

Omer signed the last letter, put down his pen, carefully closed the folder, and only then looked at her with an impenetrable gaze.

- Laila, we at Passionis, during emergency days, do not divide work into our own and someone else's. Everyone works for the common cause. I don't need you anymore for today. But Mr. Koray needs you. It will not be difficult for you to take care of the props. "He handed her the folder." - Give the letters to the secretary and go...

- To Ozie! - Interrupting the boss, yelled Koray. - And fast! He will tell you what to do.

Laila took the folder and silently left the office. Once in her room, she threw it on the table, closed her mouth with her fist, and stamped her feet hysterically. Looking at the blinds, she hissed: