"You're late," came a voice from ahead.
The scheduled work time this morning was 10:30 a.m.
Edgar knew how important today's job was and didn't dare slack off. So, he told Anson the work time was 10:15 a.m., slightly earlier, to make sure they wouldn't be late. Leaving a bad first impression would be disastrous.
But what was going on now?
Instinctively, Edgar glanced at his watch—
Confused, Edgar looked up at the clock on the wall. It was also 9:55, still a full five minutes until 10.
Late? How could that be?
His first reaction was to defend himself. Edgar needed to stand up for Anson; there was no way he'd take the blame for this.
But unexpectedly, Edgar was a beat too slow.
"Sorry," Anson said directly.
Edgar's eyes widened in disbelief as he looked at Anson, his mind full of question marks—
Not only did he apologize, but he did so quickly and without hesitation?
The woman in front of them was equally surprised.
She wore a long black dress, with a lace hem that flared out like a ruffle, paired with black high heels with gold accents, making her figure appear tall and slender. But the real highlight was the black coat adorned with roses, daisies, lilies, and other flowers, with large buttons fastened securely, outlining her silhouette.
Her trademark straight bangs, in place for a decade, were paired with her signature black sunglasses, cutting off all eye contact and presenting an aloof demeanor.
This was the infamous fashion tyrant, Anna Wintour.
Rumor had it that the terrifying and ruthless portrayal of her in *The Devil Wears Prada* was just the tip of the iceberg. The real Anna Wintour was even more fierce, more terrifying, more cold-blooded, and more strict.
Neither Anson nor Edgar had expected to run into Anna Wintour right away, nor did they expect their first encounter to involve being reprimanded.
Faced with Anna Wintour, Edgar's first reaction was to protect Anson. Whatever the accusation, he couldn't let Anson be hurt.
Saying Anna Wintour had absolute power in the fashion world might be an exaggeration, but not by much. Offending Anna in the fashion industry was almost like career suicide. Even the film, music, and other entertainment industries could be affected.
Yet Anson's first reaction was...to apologize?
Edgar felt a sudden urge to cry. This kid was too honest.
Anna was also caught off guard.
Even with sunglasses on, Edgar could sense Anna's surprise as her eyebrows, hidden behind the lenses, raised slightly, as if her thoughts had just taken a turn.
Without giving Anson a chance to explain, she left it at that, as if the matter was already settled.
Edgar started to panic: they had arrived 35 minutes early at the photoshoot location, yet they were accused of being late. If word got out, it would definitely harm Anson's image, especially since Anson was a newcomer.
Clearly, Edgar couldn't accuse Anna of lying, nor could he undermine Anson. The only option left was—
"Apologies, it was entirely my fault."
"My personal scheduling was off. I thought we'd have plenty of time to get to the studio, so I arranged for another phone interview with the U.S., which caused the delay."
No matter what, he couldn't let this fall on Anson's shoulders, nor could he accuse Anna of making things up. If they needed a reasonable excuse, work was undoubtedly the best option.
Even though they weren't actually late, Edgar was already thinking about which media outlet they should contact to fabricate a phone interview as an excuse.
With just a few words, Anna stopped in her tracks, turned to Edgar, and a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. She then looked over at Anson, "Really?"
Her sunglasses were the perfect shield, making it impossible for anyone to read Anna's expression. Coupled with her economy of words, it was hard to decipher her true intentions.
Everything plunged into uncertainty.
Anson didn't rush to explain. Instead, he met Anna's gaze with open hands and a sincere expression, pausing for a moment before steering the conversation back to the main point, "What's important is that I'm here now, and we should start working." Discover more novels at novel{f}ire.net
It was clear he wasn't going to defend himself.
Anna paused slightly, "Do you really believe you were late?"
Anson responded, "Being later than the editor-in-chief is being late. I don't think I'm wrong in that understanding."
Edgar: … Is that even a valid argument?
Anna was taken aback, then a smile spread across her face as she let out a low laugh. It wasn't a particularly charming laugh, more of a deep, raspy sound that hinted at years of smoking and drinking, but the amusement behind it was genuine.
Anna said, "You're an interesting guy."
Anson responded confidently, "That's why I got the job."
Anna gave Anson a closer look.
Anson continued, "Otherwise, with my limited acting experience, it would be a while before I appeared in *Vogue* magazine, let alone for a feature."
Clear-headed, rational, objective… and honest.
Anna had encountered countless actors, directors, models, and so-called superstars, but rarely had she come across someone —
And he was only eighteen.
Anna showed a flicker of interest, though she kept it hidden behind her sunglasses.
She didn't say anything further, quickly resuming her authoritative manner, "If you enjoy talking so much, you should try becoming a politician. Otherwise, we should start working now. Talking alone won't get the job done."
As the rumors suggested, Anna's unpredictability and elusive nature made her the dreaded figure in the *Vogue* editorial department. But Anna was undeniably competent, having single-handedly elevated *Vogue* to the pinnacle of fashion magazines.
Despite *Vogue* having different editions worldwide, the U.S. version under Anna's leadership remained dominant in sales, reputation, and influence, securing her extraordinary status in the industry.
Being tyrannical and capricious without ability would be foolish; with ability, it's a different story.
With a swift turn, Anna strode away.
Even now, Anna couldn't be entirely certain about this project, but she never lacked the spirit of exploration and adventure. She believed that *Vogue* needed to keep trying new things to stay ahead of the curve.
Her brief interaction with Anson had brought a bit of clarity to her concept, though it was still vague. But Anna relished the uncertainty and ambiguity, knowing it meant they were stepping out of their comfort zone.
Behind her, Edgar glanced at Anson with disbelief—
Edgar wasn't afraid of Anna, but there was no denying that someone of Anna's caliber demanded careful handling. Was it really wise to go off-script during their first meeting?
But Anson remained calm, signaling Edgar with a gesture and a look to reassure him:
In Anson's view, Anna chose him for this project because she was ready to take a risk. They shouldn't—and didn't need to—play it safe.
Sometimes, straying off course is the only way to discover a whole new world.