She spoke softly, "Miss Thompson, I heard you’re the famous Joy of Ashton. I assume you’re very capable, so I thought I’d talk to you and maybe learn a little from your experiences."
Charlotte Thompson was quite willing to do that.
However, in the next few minutes, the smile on her face became rather frozen.
Because this woman named Isabelle Douglas didn’t ask a single question about design.
"Miss Thompson, I heard your relationship with Mr. Battleson is quite special... Please don’t misunderstand, I’m just a bit curious."
She smiled shyly, glanced at herself, her eyes flashing with a hint of triumph, "Do you think if I dressed and met Mr. Battleson, would he notice me? Would he...?"
All her words were about Justin Battleson and her constant questioning left Charlotte Thompson speechless. She gently held her forehead, her mouth twitching slightly.
What a peculiar situation. Content originally comes from NoveI~Fire.net
The air around her was thick with the perfume that Isabelle was exuding. Charlotte felt somewhat dizzy but she didn’t want to seem rude. She politely smiled and said, "Miss, matters outside the competition are beyond my understanding. As for your questions, perhaps someone else would be better suited to answer them."
The woman, still not giving up, said, "Other people? But Miss Thompson, you and Mr. Battleson..."
"Will you ever stop?"
A frustrated male voice broke the stagnant air. Asher Howard, well-known for his short temper, impatiently adjusted his chair and then abruptly stood up.
"Why don’t you step in as a judge? I’d rather leave if that’s the case."
The woman had been so engrossed in speaking earlier she’d unintentionally taken over Asher’s space.
At his words, she stood up, looking somewhat diffident. Regardless, she gifted Charlotte another ingratiating smile before turning to head for the competition seats.
On the other side, Asher disdainfully took a disinfecting wipe from his assistant and wiped down the table where the woman had just rested her hands. The irritation on his face was clear to see.
A somewhat amused Charlotte pushed the extra chair by her side and sat up straight, waiting for the program to start.
The recording of the program went smoothly apart from occasional nonsense orders from Bright Lucas. Otherwise, all was well.
When the filming of the first episode ended, Charlotte could rest for a month, awaiting preparations for the next episode’s shooting.
The day after the program finished recording, Charlotte hurried to the office. The President’s office was empty. She sat at her desk somewhat puzzled and pulled out some design drafts from a folder and continued to review them.
In the apartment, a man stood straight at the entrance, knocked on the door, and waited.
A few seconds later, the sound of footsteps echoed and the door was pushed open.
Jordan Thompson, in his slippers, opened the door. Seeing the man outside, understanding flashed in his eyes, "You’re here to see Chad and Jack, aren’t you?"
The man outside was, in fact, Adam Ross. He nodded slightly, "Sorry for the trouble."
"No problem." Jordan Thompson reached up to ruffle the strand of hair standing up on his head, then turned to go inside.
It was a weekend, and the kids were watching TV on the sofa. He spoke softly, "Chad, Jack, could you come out for a moment?"
At this, the two children exchanged a glance, understanding clear in their eyes.
They got off the couch and headed outside, where they saw Adam Ross waiting.
Adam crouched down in front of them, extended his index finger and gently scraped it across the two clean, chubby faces. He smiled, "Dad’s taking you out to play, want to come?"