Echoes of Unrequited Love

Chapter 64

After Cecilia left, Wallis sidled up to me and said, “I could smell that bitchy scent from a mile away, looked like the real deal.” | pinched the bridge of my nose, not saying a word.

“What did you give her? She seemed pretty chuffed.”

I spilled the beans about Hilary’s preference manual.

Wallis gave me a thumbs up, teasing. “Right on time, like coal in snowy weather. You sure know your stuff, Ms. March. But what if she gets cold feet?”

Cecilia was no fool. With that manual in her arsenal, she and Hilary were bound to hit it off sooner or later. Weighing the wife of Rainbow Capital’s president against a small project, she knew which side her bread is buttered on.

“Aren't you happy?”Content provided by NôvelDrama.Org.

How could | not be? Given Cecilia’s attitude, there was a good nine out of ten chance that Rainbow Capital wouldn’t pull our funding.

But the thought of playing such a good card and just handing it over like that it just sticks in

my craw.

I'd been counting on it to rake in some serious dough.

“Let's head back and wait for news,” | comforted Wallis, “Maybe we can finally catch some decent Z’s tonight.”

That night, as | doubled back to the complex, | reached the foot of the building and saw Hogan coming from the other side.

The man was clad in a navy blue, single—breasted wool suit that made him look sharp and upright, standing under the clear moonlight like some noble and aloof gentleman.

| paused, then broke the ice, “Here to see Director Irwin?”

| was fishing to see if the two had met.

Hogan nodded slightly, and we walked side by side into the building. After a while, he asked, “Did you provide the manual?” Looks like they had met.

| told him straight, “Mr. Zade, you put down a deposit, so | had to show some good faith.”

“You're quite thorough.”

His voice was even, couldn’t make heads or tails of it.

| didn’t downplay it, just grinned and said, “I always keep my word. Give it time, and you will

See.”

| was still trying to steer the conversation toward our collaboration. But Hogan didn’t bite. just stood there in silence, not giving an inch.

When the elevator doors opened, we stepped in one after the other. | felt inexplicably deflated and found myself absentmindedly stroking my wristband.

“Who gave it to you?”

| looked at Hogan, perplexed, and followed his gaze to my wristband.

He added. “You seem quite attached to it. An heirloom, maybe?”

| didn’t know how he figured | was so fond of it, but suddenly my wrist felt too warm, uncomfortably so. Then | heard Hogan’s teasing tone, “Is Darren that stingy?”

It seemed he’d gotten the wrong end of the stick, thinking the wristband was from Darren.

| looked down at my toes, pulling my sleeve over the wristband, not picking up his line.

But inside, it felt like something was tearing, making my heart and lungs ache a bit.

“Ms. March, you're clever enough. Why bother having Cecilia plead your case?”

The heart of the matter came up, and pushing down the discomfort in my chest, | looked up at Hogan and said, “Mr. Zade, we both understand the unique nature of the project. Why let a trifle sour our relations?”

“A trifle?” Hogan’s tone hardened, and a hint of hurt flashed through his usually cool eyes. Was | seeing things?

“Forgive my poor choice of words,” | quickly amended. “What | mean is, once the game goes live, I’m sure it'll pay off for you, Mr. Zade.”

Hanging out with Wallis, I'd learned a thing or two about sweet-talking.

Hogan snorted at that and shot back, “Will that day ever come?”

My heart skipped a beat, and after a pause, | met his inscrutable gaze, trying to glean something. But unfortunately, | came up empty.

| said softly, “It will.”

He sneered, “You've reached your goal.”

My hand clenched nervously, but | tried to stay composed. However, when | looked at Hogan, | realized he was referring to the floor | had reached.