MY BOSS GIFTED ME A BOTTLE OF WINE WITH A STRANGE SMELL... A FEW HOURS LATER...

Описание: I always believed that my dedication would be rewarded after 10 years at Maxwell and partners. That evening, as colleagues gathered in the conference room, I felt a rare sense of professional fulfillment. My name Phoebe Roy was emblazoned across a cake that documented my journey at the company. A decade of Brilliance deserves something special. Dylan Maxwell announced his charismatic smile lighting up the room as he handed me a black velvet box inside nestled An Elegant bottle of wine. Its label bore the Insignia of a renowned Portuguese Vineyard. I remembered whispering genuinely moved 3 years ago during a team Retreat I'd mentioned my passion for Portuguese wines and the semier course I'd completed in Porto. The fact that Dylan, the company's founder and CEO, had remembered such a personal detail made the gesture even more meaningful. For someone who transformed our company's trajectory, it's the least I could do, Dylan replied his hand lingering on my shoulder just a moment too long. We should open it now. This calls for a proper celebration. Looking back, I should have noticed the subtle shift in his demeanor when I suggested saving it for later. A momentary tightening around his eyes quickly masked by his characteristic charm. Nonsense, Fe, you've earned this moment, he insisted. Taking the bottle from my hands with practiced ease, he personally poured the Ruby liquid into crystal glasses ensuring mine was filled first. "To 10 more years of your Brilliance," he toasted, raising his glass. The Wine's Aroma struck me immediately. Unlike the rich fruity bouquet I expected from that vineyard's Reserve, there was an underlying sharpness, subtle but distinct. I hesitated. My trained senses alerted me that something wasn't right. "Is everything okay?" Dylan asked, watching me closely. The bouquet seems different from what I remember, I commented, swirling the liquid in my glass. Dylan laughed. "That's why you're exceptional, Phoebe. Your attention to detail is unmatched." He gestured to the bottle. "This is their Special Reserve, very limited production. The profile is naturally more complex." His explanation made sense. Surrounded by colleagues waiting to continue the celebration, I didn't want to appear ungrateful or pretentious. I took a sip, letting the wine linger on my palate. The Taste was rich and layered but underneath lurked something unfamiliar, not unpleasant necessarily just unexpected. It's Unique, I offered diplomatically, and Dylan seemed satisfied. The party continued with colleagues sharing stories and jokes. I nursed my wine, taking small sips rather than full drinks, attributing my growing lightheadedness to exhaustion from the long week. Dylan, however, kept refilling my glass, insisting that such a rare vintage deserved proper appreciation. By the time the Gathering began to disperse, the room had started to blur at the edges. My limbs felt weighted, my thoughts increasingly disconnected. I'd only had two glasses, far from enough to cause such disorientation. I think I need some air, I managed to say, gripping the edge of the table as I attempted to stand. "You don't look well," Dylan observed, his voice sounding distant despite his proximity. Let me drive you home, he offered, and I wanted to refuse, to call a ride share instead, but my mouth wouldn't form the words properly.