What Are The Duties Of A Brand Ambassador?

I was the company's top sales performer, but I never clocked in or out, and I rarely showed my face at the office. Two-thirds of the employees had never even met me. Yet somehow, I single-handedly dominated the sales numbers, outperforming everyone else and propelling us to the number one spot in the industry. Then came the day they handed out year-end bonuses. Jeffrey Young, the new sales director, fired me on the spot, claiming it was bad luck that I stepped into the building with my left foot first. When I demanded to know what gave him the right, he sneered at me with pure contempt. "Because I'm going to be the future owner of this company! You just got lucky landing a few big clients, and that was all thanks to the company's existing customer base anyway!" He continued, "Let me tell you something... Kieran Campbell, whoever the company gives resources to, becomes the top seller!" I could not help but laugh. All they saw was that I never clocked in, but they never saw me out there day and night, running around to maintain those client relationships. The truth was, in this industry, clients were loyal to me personally, not to the company's brand. I pulled out my phone and called my wife, Melanie Gardner. "When did you get yourself another husband behind my back?"

My executive boyfriend, Marcus Winters, had always wanted the regional president seat. Then his favorite protégée, Sophie Moresby, complained that I always got the spotlight, and he deliberately sabotaged my car. The crash broke both my hands, leaving me unable to compete in the design contest that could decide the board vote. He handed my entry slot to Sophie and expected me to accept it quietly. When I confronted him, he said it was only one competition and that, as design director, I should give younger employees a chance. To prove his "fairness," he stripped me of my director title and docked six months of my pay to compensate the team. Everyone waited for me to fight back. Instead, I nodded, calm and silent. Marcus was pleased. He promised that once his promotion came through, he would restore my position and publicly announce our relationship. I smiled coldly and told him we were done. I had already submitted my resignation. What Marcus did not know was that the board and I had made a private agreement: if I won the championship and secured the decisive vote, the person I named would become regional president. I had been preparing to name him. Now he had not only replaced me with Sophie, but also encouraged her to submit a fraudulent design. Once the contest ended, the only thing waiting for him was termination, a ruined career, and a bill he could never afford.

My Job? Keep Creed Empire’s playboy CEO away from gold-diggers. My secret? I used to be one. ~ My name is Jenna. A quick one before my lovely writer takes over. To the world, I’m Jason Creed’s bodyguard… tough looking and unfeminine. The perfect image of an official bodyguard. But my real assignment has nothing to do with criminals or rivals, like you’d expect. Instead, I keep the leeches away — the ladies Jason drags into his bed because he’s bored of his grandmother’s ‘approved list’ of women. Yes, I know how pathetic that sounds. But this job pays for my father’s treatments, and it’s my one shot at a real fucking guard academy. Then Jason sleeps with the wrong girl… a blogger’s daughter with a habit of blackmail. His grandmother, the Baroness, gives me 48 hours to fix it or I’m fired. So I made a deal with the playboy himself. One night… One vow to his grandmother – a vow that can never be broken. Jason laughs in my face. A tomboy like me? Please. He has no idea what I’m capable of. No idea how easy I could get a man wrapped around my finger. No idea about the man who’s been hunting me for years. That night changes everything. But the Creed Family may not survive it when my past comes knocking.

My name is Evelyn Brown. I represent the company in the IPO bidding process. Halfway through my presentation, I notice everyone in the room staring at me with puzzled expressions. In that instant, I realize my PowerPoint slides have been swapped for a "Paid Surrogate" advertisement. The wording is utterly humiliating. "I've lived the first 20 years of my life in a poor mountain village. I'm healthy and can promise a son. My price is negotiable." I rush backstage, only to see the impoverished student my father, Eric Brown, has sponsored for years laughing uncontrollably. Leaning against my fiance, Dwayne Woodruff, Katherine Cadwell says, "Oh, Ms. Brown, don't be upset! I was just teasing you to lighten the mood. You just got back home. Don't stress yourself out so much." I grab her arm, insisting she come out and explain herself. But out of nowhere, Dwayne shoves me to the floor. "You've just returned," he says. "We only pulled a little prank on you because we didn't want you to be too tense. If you can't handle even this amount of pressure, how can you be expected to take over the company?" I can't help but scoff. Right in front of them, I send the live recording straight to my father, the CEO. Without a second thought, I dial his number. "Dad, look at what your 'star scholarship student' just pulled. Can we have her and Dwayne kicked out of the company?"

When she drove home that night after a long day at work, Mikayla found a mysterious young man lying injured in her parking lot, bloodied and robbed. She rushed him to a hospital. She shockingly found out he had lost all his memories. The handsome young man couldn’t even remember his name. Mikayla let him stay at her place for a day with the expectation that he would leave the next day. The workaholic bank executive didn’t have time to care for any random stranger. But the young man insisted on staying. To drive him away, Mikayla gave an ultimatum. He could stay only if he agreed to be her pet. With a jovial attitude and not many options, he agreed and let her name him Davey, her new pet. After the contract was made, they gradually found out Davey’s identity when his model friend approached him and asked how he was preparing for the upcoming Paris Fashion Week. Who was Davey really? Will this strange relationship work out? Find out in ‘My Pet is a Model’.

My superior loved tricking me into wearing tight-fitting pencil skirts to serve wine to sleazy clients while sticking close to them. Then, she would hint that I was single and a valid target while she excitedly waited for the clients to make a move on me. It was all in the name of checking the integrity of the clients and whether they were worthy business partners or not. The moment a client fell for it, she would rush over with righteous anger and throw wine in their faces. Then, she would lecture me with a voice heavy with anguish. “Do you lack money so much that you’d throw your dignity away just for better results?” She would trample all over my dignity to set up her image as a refined, noble woman. This time, she even prepared a gown with a super low neckline and pushed me to serve a client with a rich and powerful background. She threatened me by saying that if I did not go, she would deduct my bonus for three whole months of full attendance. But when I saw the familiar, cold man sitting in the seat of honor, it was my turn to laugh. If my brother saw me serving wine in this kind of dress, I did not doubt that by tomorrow, the company would be under my name.