The Contract Said No Strings Attached (Charlotte) novel Chapter 185

Without looking up, Dylan replied, “A client.”

Rebecca immediately understood. “Alright, I’ll go with you.”

Dylan set down the file in his hands and looked up at Rebecca, his expression turning serious. “This client is important. We need to be thoroughly prepared. Go and organize all the relevant information, especially their recent business activities and current needs.”

Rebecca nodded. “Of course, Mr. Austin. I’ll get right on it.”

Not long after, Rebecca returned to the office, a neatly organized folder in her hands.

“All set, sir,” she said.

Dylan took the folder, flipping through the pages at a brisk pace. Satisfied, he nodded. “Good work. This is exactly what we need.”

He got to his feet, straightening his suit jacket. “Let’s go.”

As they made their way out, Dylan asked, “Do you play golf?”

Rebecca hesitated for a moment. “A little.”

Dylan nodded. “That’ll do.” He didn’t say anything more.

Later that afternoon, Rebecca followed Dylan to the golf course.

The sun bathed the emerald fairway in a golden glow, a gentle breeze carrying the scent of freshly cut grass.

They arrived at the club and met the client Dylan had mentioned.

Leaning in, Dylan spoke quietly to her, “That’s Mr. Olson from PrimeSphere Group.”

Rebecca offered a polite nod and a warm smile. “Hello, Mr. Olson.”

Mr. Olson’s gaze lingered on Rebecca, his expression openly appreciative. Rebecca frowned slightly but said nothing.

At last, Mr. Olson turned back to Dylan, grinning. “Mr. Austin, your assistant is quite the stunner.”

Rebecca didn’t take the bait. “Why don’t we focus on the game, Mr. Olson?”

At first, Mr. Olson behaved himself—though his eyes kept wandering back to Rebecca whenever he thought she wouldn’t notice.

Rebecca did her best to ignore his attention, focusing on her grip and posture, determined to keep her composure amid this less-than-innocent round of golf.

But it didn’t take long for Mr. Olson to push further.

Watching her line up her shot, he sidled closer, his smile growing increasingly distasteful. “Miss Raina, how about I show you how it’s done?” he offered, reaching for her hand on the club.

Before he could touch her, Rebecca swung hard, sending the ball flying with a sharp, decisive crack.

“No need, Mr. Olson. I know how to play.”

The crisp, forceful sound of her stroke rang out across the fairway.