Chapter <b>245 </b>
James?
Curtis‘ eyes bulged in disbelief, taking a quick nce at Wyatt. Had grown so bold as to address the boss in such a casual way?
But then… “Ms. Mirabe?” Who was that?
It was only then that Wyatt turned to Curtis. “Oh, the box of Incense of Calm that the boss has was a gift from Ms. Mirabe<b>.</b><b>” </b>
Curtis, of course, knew about the boss‘ unexpected acquisition of a top–quality box of Incense of Calm that had been helping him rx. To return the favor, Curtis had been coerced into sneaking into Donald’s private collection to steal a box of prized coffee beans, a deed that ensured he dared not show his face around Donald since.
“Ms. Mirabe, who is she?” asked Curtis, his curiosity piqued.
Authentic Incense of Calm was rare in the market. The precise blend of herbs required the incense maker to have a deep knowledge of their properties, not to mention that the dosage directly affected the effectiveness of the incense.
“Just a high school senior,” replied Wyatt, his voice as nonchnt as his expression.
Curtis‘ grip on the steering wheel tightened. He was sure his ears were ying tricks on him. A high school senior?
Not someone from a reclusive and influential family?
Curtis turned his head to look at Wyatt again and opened his mouth to say something, but then. Wyatt continued speaking. “Ms. Mirabe’s academic record is ster. She’s been in apetition where she’s scored top marks repeatedly.” Wyatt said, almost with a tinge of admiration that one struggling student might have for a top achiever. He had seen her rankings and scores online.
Curtis was speechless. Great, first it was his ears, and now his eyes were deceiving him too.
Wyatt noticed Curtis‘ shocked expression and said quite seriously, “Curtis, focus on driving, will ya? You’re giving everyone the jitters<b>.</b>”
Curtis kept quiet. He’s not thw one bbing on the side.
Fifty minutester<b>, </b>the bud pulled up in front of the hotel entrance.
Mirabe stepped out, luggage in hand, and not long after, Anthony handed her a key card.
Two people per room. Among the several students who advanced in thepetition, there were only three girls; the other two were ssmates and naturally roomed together, leaving Mirabe with a single.
They took the elevator to the sixteenth floor and went to their respective rooms. The four–star hotel’s standard room was clean and tidy overall. Mirabe closed the door behind her, took a quick look around, and tossed her luggage into the nearby wardrobe.
After a quick trip to the restroom, she returned to her phone, incessantly pinging with new messages. She checked it to find Anthony had created a temporary group chat, informing. everyone to meet for dinner at the buffet on the second floor in five minutes.
Mirabe replied with a “Got it” and promptly muted the group chat notifications. She rested for a few minutes before heading out the door. She then joined the other students who were headed there as well and rode the elevator down to the second floor.
At the entrance of the restaurant, Mr. Hammond and Anthony were deep in conversation. Seeing Mirabe approach, Mr. Hammond’s stern expression softened slightly. “First time in Riverdale, isn’t it? Is everything to your liking? No issues with adjusting, like, say, the change of environment?” Mr. Hammond inquired with concern.
Mirabe nodded politely at Mr. Hammond. “I’m fine, thank you for asking.”
Mr. Hammond smiled and added a word of advice, “Get some rest early tonight. You’ll want to be at your best for the preliminary round tomorrow morning.”
Mirabe nodded obediently, acknowledging with a quiet “Mm–hmm<b>.</b>”
Satisfied, Mr. Hammond didn’t press further and gestured for her to head on to dinner.
Once Mirabe had moved away, Anthony leaned in and asked in a low voice, “Mr. Hammond, what do you reckon the odds are of Mirabe taking first ce again this time<b>?</b>”