In the office, Evelyn Clayton’s originally clear thoughts were thoroughly disrupted by the two of them, and her mood grew irritable again.
Interruptions are the worst enemy of creativity, and she had spent considerable effort to regain her composure and quickly finished drawing the logo, just waiting for James Grant to come back for a review.
But she waited for a full half-hour, and James Grant still hadn’t returned.
She could only ask Quentin Hale.
Quentin Hale dared not tell Evelyn Clayton directly, so he resorted to gently reminding her.
"Miss Clayton, you’d better call Director Grant yourself."
Evelyn Clayton called James Grant, and he answered quickly.
"The logo is done. When are you coming back? I’d like to show it to you."
James Grant’s voice sounded slightly breathless, and Evelyn Clayton immediately thought of some indescribable activities.
She quickly halted her thoughts and forced herself to stay on topic.
"Back to the company."
"I’m at home." The man’s voice was husky yet sexy.
"...James Grant," Evelyn Clayton gritted her teeth, "you went home, and wouldn’t even tell me?"
"Who would know you’d just go home directly!"
James Grant chuckled lightly, "Then bring the drawings to my house. Do you know the address?"
"You don’t live at the Grant Family mansion?"
The Grant Family mansion was usually where Harrison Grant and Matthew Sullivan resided, and James only showed up there when necessary.
"Alright, send me the address and I’ll find you."
James Grant’s response remained consistently indifferent.
Evelyn Clayton couldn’t help but suspect whether he had been dumped by a woman, otherwise why did he sound so cold?
Following the address, she found James Grant’s home.
This floor had only James Grant’s unit.
Evelyn Clayton hadn’t had time to take off her shoes when James Grant grabbed her hand and pressed it against the fingerprint lock at the door for setup.
"It’s my first visit, and you’re recording my fingerprint already? Isn’t it too fast? You could wait until we’re about to get married."
"Just in case. If my dad comes up one day to catch me in the act, you can help deter him." James Grant’s words were tinged with ambiguity.
Evelyn Clayton understood immediately: "No problem." ɴᴇᴡ ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀʀᴇ ᴘᴜʙʟɪsʜᴇᴅ ᴏɴ NoveI(F)ire.net
Seeing her agree so readily, James Grant squinted but ended up saying nothing more.
The color palette of James Grant’s home was the same as his office, all in black, white, and gray, giving off a very oppressive feeling.
Walking to the window, Evelyn Clayton noticed his house had floor-to-ceiling windows.
She turned and asked James Grant, "May I open the curtains?"
With the owner’s permission, Evelyn Clayton immediately opened the curtains, allowing light to pour in.
The sun was about to set, the sky was a field of crimson, as if about to engulf the entire city.
James Grant’s home was on the 22nd floor with particularly good views. Evelyn Clayton was captivated.
Until James Grant handed her a cup of hot black tea.
"Oh, you drink this brand of black tea too?" Evelyn Clayton exclaimed joyfully at James Grant, "Didn’t expect you and I to have this in common."
"The housekeeper bought it, I’ve never tried it, so I’m using you to test it. Didn’t expect you to like it." James Grant feigned a disappointed look, causing Vivian Clayton to roll her eyes at him.
"Once you’re done, let me see the drawings."
Vivian Clayton handed over the drawings, "How about it? Is it okay?"
She was confident in her design; James Grant wouldn’t find any flaws this time.
But unexpectedly, James Grant, after viewing, remained silent for a few minutes.
"What’s up? Still dissatisfied?"
"Make further improvements. Where is The Grant Group’s concept? Your logo reflects the significance of the Star Project, but where is The Grant Group? Don’t forget, this project is for The Grant Group."
Only after being pointed out did Evelyn Clayton realize, yes, she had overlooked that detail.
"I... I initially thought of incorporating elements of The Grant Group, but I got disrupted and forgot."
James Grant sharply grasped the hint in her words, "By whom."