Chapter6
1018 Words
Gabriel's POV
""Yes, before my trip to Shanghai, we discussed this. Mike and Kim are present. My right-hand man is Mike Anderson. He is my closest buddy and the COO of Remington Industries. It was at Harvard when we first met. The vice president of Remington Media, Kim, is, as I mentioned before, more capable than the elderly man who is sitting in front of me sipping his wine.
They are aware of the embezzlement and are addressing it as well.
"Yes, exactly! And I gave that a careful look." Our conversation pauses while the waiter delivers the dinner.
"You want to eat first?" Ben queries me.
"Not at all. Proceed." I have no idea why he even believes that I would rather eat than handle this matter.
"All right, they purchased from the same vendor. I contacted the supplier yesterday to get the name of Remington Media's manager. He promised to provide the list for me by Monday."
"Good! Are they aware of your identity?"
"Not at all. I declared that I was the new PIC for the items and that I intended to keep doing business with them."
"And they trust you?" I wouldn't, if I were them.
Ben responds, "Yes, of course," as if it were feasible.
"All right. Can you provide the statistics for us following the morning meeting? Every quarter on the first Monday, the corporation has its major meeting. Our stockholders will be there at the meeting, as will my grandmother, Nancy Remington, the head of The Remington, to watch the development.
"I'll make sure of it!" Ben claims. "Son, let's get some food! My pleasure."
We also eat. After eating my lobster, I feel better. Hopefully, we will obtain information from the individual and this pest will end soon.
While I was eating, I heard Ben talking about his daughter, Camila. We are not intimate. I'm not related to her. She is the child of Ben and his first wife. Ben's second wife was named Aunt Daisy. They also don't share children.
Camilia once made an attempt to flirt with me, but I turned her down, so she knew it was okay. It is advantageous. Even if she's attractive, I won't sleep with her. Can you imagine how embarrassing it would be? The following time we get together—at work or a family event. Since I've known from the start that she isn't the lady I want to dedicate my life to.
Speaking of ladies, I watched as the strawberry-blonde woman made her way to the bathroom. I excuse myself and head to the bathroom out of reflex, wondering what's on my mind. Trap a lady like a stalker.
Though I'm still thinking halfway there. What on earth am I doing here? I never follow a woman this way. However, there's something about her that draws me in. My feet also simply won't quit.
The sinks are shared, but the toilets for men and women are kept apart. She is splattering water over her face while standing in front of the sink. Her eyes were crimson as if she had just shed a tear, as our gazes locked in the mirror. And it gives me a gut punch.
Who brings her to tears?
Isabella POV
What a horror this is! I must be having a dream. I take a deep breath and attempt to figure out what the heck occurred.
I was at the restaurant waiting for Alex. I was early, as always, and he was always late.
I was drinking my Merlot while perched on the bar stool. I've never drunk, yet I can drink alcohol like I sip water. My friend's plan for my 21st birthday was to get me wasted. Even though I was a little tipsy in the end, I was still able to complete my math, speak ABC backward, and walk straight. Admittedly, I drank a lot. And all of my buddies were intoxicated. I was the one who looked after them in the end. My blood just runs this way: we can sip booze like water, similar to my mother's.
When Mom and Dad first met, they had a wager on who would go down first, and Mom won, of course. The remainder is recorded history. This always makes me grin when I think about it. In the latter months of her life, I insisted on hearing Mom tell me this tale over and over again, as if I wanted to write down every detail she shared about how he met my father.
My wine was served by the bartender. I sipped it while I looked around the eatery. It's a nice restaurant, albeit quite pricey. I glanced across to a man who was studying the menu at the two-person table. What a ridiculous dude! His jet black hair was styled in a disheveled manner, his hazel eyes, his flawless lips and nose, his strong jaw, and his excellent broad shoulders. He must have pleased God when he created him.
I turned my back on him and scolded myself for waiting for my guy—who was probably the boyfriend of another woman—while salivating over a male. Thank goodness he was unaware of it.
I ordered my second glass as soon as the server informed me that my table was ready. Alex came over in a minute and hugged me.
"How are you, Izzy ?" After we were seated, Alex inquired. That was the first time he had inquired about me, and I had only been in LA for approximately a day. I ought to have anticipated this.
Alright, I'm giving in. How about you? This afternoon, I was at the Remington headquarters. Although I called, you did not answer the phone.""
"What? You were present?" He sounded frightened.
Yes. I gave you a call. However, your voicemail received it.""I gave a stupid response.
""Well, I've been busy, um. Were you able to spot me there? He questioned cautiously.
"Not at all. You were present?"
"Not at all. Yes, what I mean is. I was present. Getting together with a few managers."
- Writer
