She peered into the office and, in a lowered voice, she continued, "Hey sis, when I got home, I looked up that producer, Mr. Smith, on my computer. You wouldn’t believe how impressive he is; he’d worked as a chef for several years and won countless awards at cooking competitions. Then, supposedly, he switched careers and became a producer."
She began to speak mysteriously, her tone full of excitement, as if she greatly admired Lincoln Smith. "To leap from chef to producer is extraordinary. I couldn’t believe he made a name for himself in the industry in just a few years. I stayed up all night watching his films, each and every one, a smash hit. Oh my, sis, I feel this opportunity is a surefire win!"
Meeting Coco’s excitable gaze, Charlotte Thompson seemed much more composed. Leaning against the door, she sighed, "Coco, besides an astronomical salary and the chance for fame, what else can it offer me?"
It wasn’t that she didn’t have money; the Thompson family was on the Forbes list in Ashton. Besides, she had no desire to be famous.
The attractive conditions Lincoln Smith offered were precisely what she needed least.
Hearing this, Coco’s expression turned serious. As Charlotte was a star in Ashton, she naturally had a high net worth. Sky-high salaries surely didn’t impress her, and she wasn’t particularly interested in fame either.
Biting her lips hesitantly, she ran her hand through her hair, a glint of confusion flickering in her eyes.
Yeah, it seems there really were no other benefits.
Coco couldn’t figure out what was wrong, and, after reading way too much into it, she nodded heavily and said, "I understand, sis. You carry on with your work, I’ll be going."
Hearing this, Charlotte broke into a smile and sidled to one edge of the doorway, "Why not come in and have a seat?"
Before her words ended, Coco had bolted far away, shouting back, "I won’t sit, sis, I have things to do." Check latest chapters at novｅlfire.net
Charlotte watched her leave with a resigned smile before closing the door.
She had spoken loudly enough during their conversation that Justin Battleson could hear it, and so he did not bother asking her again.
The room was quiet. Charlotte stretched her neck, returned to her seat, and began to sketch once more.
She labored over each detail, which required a lot of mental effort, to the point where, after a whole day of work, she felt her vision blurring.
It was the weekend. The kids didn’t have school, and Charlotte didn’t have to go to work, but Justin Battleson, as the CEO, was dealing with things at the company and hence couldn’t come home.
Early in the morning, Jordan Thompson walked out of the bathroom in his slippers, breathed in the fresh air and sighed in delight, "Indeed, the air seems much lighter without Justin Battleson."
With Justin Battleson absent, no one was happier than Jordan.
Charlotte, busy preparing breakfast, glanced at him after hearing his remark. Just one look was enough to silence her brother.
She placed the soy milk on the table and sat down. Beside her, Grace Thompson, still drowsy, rubbed her eyes, then absently took a sip of her soy milk from a straw, only opening her eyes after she was fully awake.
Charlotte bit into a slice of bread and, as if something just occurred to her, said to the children, "It’s the weekend, and we have nothing planned at home. Why don’t we all go out, play and grab some McDonald’s?"
Upon hearing this, the kids got excited. Grace’s sleepiness was swept away in no time, and she quickly beamed with joy.
Opposite her, Jordan lazily sprawled in his chair, "I’m not going."
Charlotte looked up at him, "Where are you going?"
He flashed a rebellious smile and threw Charlotte a teasing look, uttering two words: "The bar."