Noreen could only shake her head at the message.
Nearly two weeks had gone by–so much time that whatever was urgent had long gone cold–yet only now did Seth bother to ask. If nothing else, it proved he’d seen her message much earlier and simply chosen to ignore it. Maybe all those times her messages disappeared into the <i>void</i>, it was the same story. She just hadn’t wanted to see it before, blinded by her own wishful thinking.
She stared at his message for a few seconds, then removed him from her recent chats without a second thought.
Did he really expect her to go back to the way things were? Always chasing after him, replying in an instant, picking up his calls at any hour, ready to drop everything for him? Not a chance.
What’s done is done. She’d moved on.
And why didn’t she just delete his contact altogether? Because that was the kind of thing kids or people who couldn’t let go did.
The next day, Noreen dropped by Carman’s studio, only to find it quieter than usual. At first, she thought maybe people hadn’t clocked in yet and didn’t dwell on it. But by the time she was leaving, it was obvious–some desks were just empty.
She pulled Carman’s assistant aside and asked what was going on. At first, he shook his head and refused to say anything, but Noreen pressed him until he finally caved.
It turned out that, in order to cut costs and take the pressure off Noreen, Carman had let several people go. Most of their work? Carman had taken it on himself. On top of that, he’d been picking up side gigs to help keep thepany afloat.
All this meant Carman was running on fumes, going days with barely any sleep.
20:24
The assistant’s worry was written all over his face. “Ms. Gilmore, Mr.
Holt’s barely getting three hours of sleep a night. He can’t keep this up. If it goes on much longer, his health’s going to give out.”
They desperately needed new investment.
Noreen left the studio, her expression grim. Their project was the kind big corporations wouldn’t touch, and smaller ones couldn’t afford. Calling it an uphill battle was an understatement.
With no options left, Noreen called ire.
But the moment ire picked up, Noreen hesitated, not sure where to begin.
ire didn’t wait. “You’re calling because you need something, aren’t you?”
“It’s nothing, really-”
“Cut the crap! Spit it out, I’m busy over here!”
Noreen finally managed, “Why didn’t you tell me sooner about starting your own business? What, you think I’m some stranger? You want me to cut you off for good?”
“I just…”
“Save it. No point in excuses. Write me a ten–thousand–word apology and maybe I’ll consider forgiving you.”
Noreen knew her friend wasn’t really upset.
Sure enough, ire had her bank details. Not long after they hung up, Noreen’s ount pinged with a deposit.
1,486,409,
Every cent, right down to the odd digits.
The sight of that number burned in Noreen’s eyes. She knew what it meant–this was everything ire had.
<b>20-24 </b>
ire had spent five years wing her way up from a nobody in the modeling world to a halfway decent name. The pay was never great; every penny she’d saved came from years of hard work and sacrifice.
There was no way Noreen could let that money go to waste.
She transferred every cent into thepany ount and told Carman to start hiring immediately. He couldn’t keep carrying the whole project on his back. If he copsed, the project woulde to a grinding halt–and the loss they’d suffer would dwarf anything they’d saved by cutting
corners.
Noreen swallowed her pride and started hitting everyworking event and industry party she could find, chasing every opportunity, no matter how small.
It felt like she’d been thrown back to her very first project at Aurelion Group. Back then, at least she’d had thepany’s name behind her. ‘Things had been a little easier–though only just.
Because even then, Seth had kept his distance. He never stepped in, never offered help, never so much as asked how she was doing.