My Husband Is a Gary Stu

The one who raised that point was a female editor called Cassandra Hudson.

Cassandra was around Genevieve's age but was not as pretty as the latter. Moreover, she had also put in a lot of hard work before landing a spot in the government institution.

Unexpectedly, Genevieve also began work at the Department of Public Information not too long ago. Not only was she beautiful, but she was also highly competent.

Truthfully, Cassandra was unwilling to believe that Genevieve had joined without using underhand means.

Propping herself up with one hand resting on her colleague's desk, Cassandra looked at Genevieve and uttered with a smile, “Genevieve has only been here for less than a month, so she's still lacking in experience. Furthermore, she's so smart and capable; how can our department do without her? If she leaves, there won't be anyone to help us deal with those emails.”

Genevieve scoffed and furrowed her brows. “Then how did you guys deal with those emails when I wasn't here yet? Have you all been ignoring them?”

Cassandra was lost for words briefly before she retorted, “The machines can't translate news as well as you.”

“Times are progressing, and so is technology,” Genevieve placidly stated. “These days, translation software and simultaneous interpretation headsets have a better grasp of jargon than we do. I do hope the government will introduce these new technologies so that we can focus our attention on other work.”

With that said, she stood up and walked away as she felt a dull pain in her lower abdomen.

Cassandra's expression darkened.

As soon as Genevieve arrived at the restroom entryway, she sensed a warm flow in her lower body. Concurrently, she could also smell a faint metallic scent of blood.

No wonder I'm feeling so weak. Turns out my period's here.

Since she had only wanted to use the restroom, she had not brought her phone along. Yet now, her skirt and panties were heavily soiled.

As much as her skirt was black, thus making the stain less conspicuous, the stench of blood was rather prominent.

Just then, Genevieve heard the sound of the restroom door being pushed open. She hastily poked her head out of the cubicle, only to see an old lady clad in a janitor's uniform and holding a shopping bag in her hand.

“Excuse me, madam. I'm from the Department of Public Information. Can I trouble you to—”

“You're Genevieve Rachford, right?” the cleaner asked.

“Yeah.”

“I was cleaning upstairs just now, and Mr. Faulkner asked me to bring this to you.” The cleaner passed Genevieve the shopping bag. Then, since she had probably figured out that the latter was on her period, she added, “See if you need anything else. I can bring it for you.”

Opening the shopping bag, Genevieve saw a completely new black skirt. Other than that, there was also a pair of panties and two packs of sanitary pads.

Genevieve's face turned crimson red. “Nothing. There's everything inside.”

Upon hearing that, the cleaner lifted the corners of her lips into a meaningful smile. “Mr. Faulkner is your boyfriend, right? He treats you so well and even remembers when's your period.”

Many men can't even stand the smell of blood, let alone remember their girlfriend's period!

The cleaner, unlike other gossipmongers, merely lamented and left after handing the items over. Subsequently, Genevieve, with her face still flushed, changed into the fresh clothes in that small cubicle.

How does he know that he has to buy day-use pads? And he even bought the brand I love?

When Genevieve pulled the skirt out from the bag, she was left baffled. The size is just right. How does he know what size I'm wearing? Surely it can't be Coop again?