Rachel made some seafood chowder for Mrs. Lana. She barely ate anything these days, “Ma’am, listen. You need to at least eat something.”
“I’m sorry, Rachel. But I really don’t have much appetite.” Mrs. White sighed.
Rachel knew she was still feeling sad over those things Lana told her, “Miss didn’t mean to say those things. You really shouldn’t think over those words again and again.”
Mrs. White let out a sarcastic smile, “Why would I ever feel sad about those things she said? I just think that Lana is probably the one who made the right choice.”
Rachel instantly got what the old lady was trying to say. Mrs. White used to hate Bradley and Johnson for ruining her life, but she managed to swallow the pain, pretending she wasn’t hurt.
She couldn’t afford to be like her granddaughter back then.
“Ma’am, you’ve done your best. No one could ever do it as well as you did.” Rachel tried to make her feel better.
Mrs. White smiled weakly, “You’re too kind to me, Rachel.”
Rachel smiled and coaxed the old lady into having some chowder.
****
Marcos and Yuri had just finished their lunch outside. Betty was playing with a young maid in the garden.
Yuri didn’t show or say much in the dining hall, but she slammed her palm against the table when she went back to their room, “What the heck was this? How could she go back to Miles just like that? This is such a major humiliation to the White House! She’s basically telling people that Miles could step on her face, and she would still love him dearly! People will think girls from the White family have no pride or whatsoever! How are people gonna view Betty when she grows up? I’ve never seen anyone as selfish as her before!”
“What has been done is done, Yuri. It’s meaningless to complain.” Marcos tried to calm his wife down.
“Am I complaining? Your sister is the one who’s gonna drag the whole house to hell with her! Why do we just have to get knocked out by the Bradley family?” Yuri was furious.
Marcos also fell silent. Yuri was right. Even though Clyde was no longer alive, the Bradley house was still not an easy enemy as the living devil of that family, Linford Bradley, was still alive.
Yuri wanted to say more, but she knew Mrs. White was still awake. After what happened yesterday, they were both tacitly trying to keep their grandma’s secret. No one had expected Mrs. White to have a secret crush on Franco Bradley back then. She was even standing up against Johnson for Mr. Bradley.
Those journalists would never let things like this slip away.
****
Alfred went to Linford’s study room, informing him about the new neighbors. Linford shrugged it off. “They can pick whichever house they like. I don’t really care.”
“What’s in Lana White’s head? She’d rather be with Miles even though the world is laughing at her. Why couldn’t she just leave you and Cristelle alone? Does she have some brain problems?” Doctor Weston observed professionally.
Linford took a sip from his coffee, “Dunno. Probably she went crazy after she realized that she would never have me in her life. It’s not rare for girls to go crazy for me.”
“Tsk, I’d like to see how Cristelle would react if you repeated that to her face,” Drew made a face before him.
“Try to tell her, and I’ll make you regret being born,” Linford said nicely as he walked out of the office.
Drew rolled his eyes but quickly shut his mouth.
The company’s Christmas holiday finished quite soon. Fritzi went back to work again. She changed into a new haircut, and she looked even sharper than before.
However, the first thing she did was hand in her resignation on the first day of work.
Linford arched an eyebrow as he looked at her over the resignation letter, “Are you serious right now, Fritzi? You’re going to Paris?”
Fritzi cleared her throat, “I need new blood. The departure is temporary. I’ll start to do magazines over there using my connections and experience. After coming back, I’ll make sure to serve our department with brand new administrative experience, and I genuinely think.”
“This is about Drew, isn’t it?” Linford asked.
Fritzi’s mouth fell open, and her face was as red as a tomato. How could she explain to her boss about the drunk booty call between her and Drew that night after the awkward mistletoe kiss?
She couldn’t explain at all.
Linford could tell she was battling herself. So he added, “The FD department can’t run without you. We’re already short of manpower after Cristelle left. You didn’t even train any replacement before for situations like this. It’s quite irresponsible, Fritzi.”
“Can-Can I go to Milan then? Just a business trip.” Fritzi attempted to negotiate.
“And why Milan?” Linford threw the letter away and folded his arms.
“I’m gonna make something about gorgonzola.” Fritzi’s lips are set in a thin line.
“Nice try,” Linford gestured at the door, “Now, get your ass back to your office.”
“Bloodsucker!” Fritzi murmured on her way out.
“What did you just say?” Linford asked.
“Nothing. Really, nothing!” Fritzi squeezed out the word between her teeth.
“Oh, okay,” Linford smiled, “The company will hold a party tonight, by the way. Just to remind you, Drew will also be there. Good luck.”
“Asshole!” Fritzi hissed under her breath.
****
The party was great. Donny even pushed Fritzi onto the stage, so she had to sing a song.
It was more like a punishment.
The party was ongoing as Fritzi held her microphone in the middle of the stage, howling her lungs out to the beat of All By
Myself song. Those motherfuckers tried to socially murder her by making her sing.
Someone had to suffer.
“Get off the stage, Fritzi!” Someone howled drunkenly after Fritzi finished the song.
Victory! She thought as she stumbled drunkenly off the stage.
And then, a pair of strong hands held her before she could hit the floor on her face, “Whoa! Be careful, Celine Dion.”
Fritzi looked up, and she almost threw up in surprise, “Drew?”
“Can’t you be careful? It won’t hurt if you watch your way,” Drew looked genuinely worried, “Which asshole made you drink so much?”
Fritzi breathed, “I’ll be fine… I can walk, as in, put one foot before another.”
“Yeah, this is probably the soberest shit I’ve ever heard in a while. Putting one foot before another,” Drew grinned, “Hold on tight. I’m taking you home now.”
“What-wait!” Fritzi cried in horror, but that didn’t prevent Drew from lifting her up and holding her in his arms.
The roomful of colleagues started to cheer drunkenly.
Drew carried her to his car. Fritzi’s apartment was downtown. It was not a long drive, but the air in the car was still awkward.
“You seemed happy tonight,” Drew said as he stared into the road, hand on the steering wheel, “Are you happy because you’re going to France?”
Fritzi jerked her head to look at his perfect profile instantly.
Who told him that? Fritzi suddenly didn’t know what to say.
“Paris is nice. Given that you’re doing fashion.” Drew cleared his throat, sounding weird and repressed for some reason.
“Yeah!” Fritzi dropped her gaze, her fingers twisting together.
Was he hinting at her that he wanted her to stay?
But what did “Paris is nice” mean? Did he want her to leave?
It was not his fault. After what happened that night, she felt awkward whenever she saw this man.