Echoes of Unrequited Love

Wellis told that the afternoon report had nearly spiraiad out of control.

In fact, after Hogan checked out Timothy’s character design, he went began to critique one of the male protagonists–nitpicking everything from the look to the threads, even down to whether the protagonist’s shirt was tucked into his suit pants or not. He specifically asked Timothy to redesign the character.

Timothy, full of pride, naturally couldn’t handle such ridicule. And just then, Cecilia jumped into the fray to play peacemaker, saying Hogan had a point, suggesting Timothy should seriously consider a do– over.

“And then what?” I asked, pinching the bridge of my nose in exasperation.

“Then the meeting just got interrupted,” Wallis stated, clearly annoyed, “Cecilia really did a number on Timothy, throwing him under the bus in front of Hogan. Timothy was so steamed he just dropped the mic and bailed.”

Hearing this, I got antsy, “Where is he now?”

“He didn’t even answer phone calls. He only mentioned that change is unlikely unless we change investors, else he won’t continue with this work,” Wallis paused, then asked, “Xaviera, what should we do now?”

I expected Hogan to stir up troubles again, but I never imagined it would blow up like this.

Considering Nydia’s situation, it just felt like everything was going to hell in a handbasket.

In the end, I didn’t prolong my stay in Havenport. After spending one night, I drove back to Rivertown at the crack of dawn.

By the time I reached the office, it coincidentally was time to start work.

Stepping out of the car, I spotted Cecilia emerging from her fiery red ride across the way.

The young lady was rocking a short brown leather jacket, paired with a matching suede mini skirt and black ankle boots, bouncing along like a peppy little deer, radiating energy and youth.

She looked like she was in a good mood.

The next second, she caught sight of me.

After a brief two–second stare–down, Cecilia awkwardly tugged at the corner of her mouth, batting those doe eyes at me, “Xaviera, you’re early. What were you so busy with yesterday? You weren’t present for such an important meeting.”

Her voice was gentle and soft, but her eyes held a hint of mischief.

Thinking back to Wallis‘ words, I gently responded, “I heard you vetoed Mr. Temple’s proposal in the meeting.”

“Xaviera, you’ve got me all wrong,” Cecilia glanced at me cautiously, “It was Hogan who shot down Mr. Temple’s idea, not me. I was just considering Rainbow Capital’s image and went along with it. I mean, I had to back him up in a disagreement,/right?”

Fair enough. From Cecilia’s angle, if there’s any disagreements between our company and Rainbow Capital, she’s got every reason to side with her backers.

“But Xaviera, you always treat work like it’s your lifeblood. What made you skip out suddenly yesterday?” Her probing gaze landed on me, her curiosity almost spilling out of her eyes.

“Thank you for your concern, Director Irwin,” instead of answering her question, I said, “I’ll explain things personally to Mr. Zade.” Copyright Nôv/el/Dra/ma.Org.

11.515

As I made to leave, Cecilia chimed in. “Well, you better make it good, Xaviera. From what I see, Hogan’s atand this time is particularly firm.”

One’s pressing me to find a new investor, the other’s being stubborn. It felt as if I am caught between a rock and a hard place, receiving criticism from both sides.

Regardless of my dissatisfaction, I promptly arranged a meeting with Hogan.

At 2 PM, Wallis and I arrived at Rainbow Capital, only to be told by the secretary that Hogan was tied up and asked us to come another day.

The same old runaround. Wallis and I weren’t surprised, so I had no choice but to call Zachary.

“Mr. Zade’s indeed in a meeting. If you wish to wait, they can arrange for you to stay in the far right reception room,” Zachary suggested, “After the meeting, Mr. Zade will pass by the entrance. Then it’s all up to you.”

Wallis and I got the hint and settled into the reception room, waiting patiently.

We waited a solid hour.

Finally, there was some commotion outside the room. We jumped to our feet and sure enough, we caught sight of Hogan and company exiting the meeting room.

Beside him, an elderly director was pointing his finger towards Hogan’s face and scowling, “Your dad would’ve had to call me ‘Mr. Darcy‘ with respect when he was alive. What do you think you you are!”