Laura smiled knowingly. “Klein is the one truly steering the Harris family. If you can capture his attention, Whitney will have no choice but to respect you.”
Once Whitney had ensured her grandmother was settled in, she made her way to PrimeBridge Law Firm that afternoon.
As she passed the boss’s office, she couldn’t help but notice how eerily empty it seemed.
“Where’s Mr. Barton?” Whitney inquired, her curiosity piqued.
Frank leaned in closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “He’s with Mr. Barton.”
He dropped his voice even further. “Hector is in there too.”
Whitney raised an eyebrow. Everyone was aware that Townsend Barton had two top-tier lawyers, but the two were notorious for their constant bickering.
“Sounds like it’s about that Harris Group contract. The boss went in to negotiate with Mr. Barton today,” Frank explained.
Whitney’s heart raced. “Did Hector’s team actually secure it?”
Just the other day, Klein had assured her he would play fair.
Her thoughts turned dark. Back then, he hadn’t realized she was on the verge of calling off her engagement to Carter.
If he reneged on his promise now, it wouldn’t even be shocking.
“I’m not sure. I heard they promised it to our boss, but just as the contract was about to be signed, Hector called the client and offered to cut the fee by 5 percentage points, so they ditched our boss,” Frank recounted, his expression grim.
Whitney stared in disbelief. “How could they do that? Isn’t that outright theft?”
Pursuing business at the cost of losing money felt like shooting oneself in the foot just to harm the competition.
It would undoubtedly give the client the impression that PrimeBridge was rife with internal strife.
The Harris Group wasn’t naive; they might end up abandoning both firms altogether.
Frank offered a bitter smile. “Honestly, that’s why the boss completely lost it. I’ve never seen him so furious before. He was on the verge of confronting Hector directly.”
“This Harris Group contract is a monumental opportunity, not just for me but for the entire team,” Whitney thought, her ambition flaring.
“If I can contribute to this merger, my resume will shine like never before. Just being part of this project would add some serious weight to my experience.
“And when it comes time for the mid-level associate review, this could significantly boost my chances.”
But this was an internal conflict, and she knew better than to drag Klein into this mess.
That wasn’t how she operated, nor was it how she preferred to handle her affairs.
She began typing a message, only to delete it repeatedly, caught in a cycle of indecision.
It wasn’t until Klein’s message popped up that she paused.
Klein: [What’s on your mind? You’ve been trying to type something for half an hour.]
The phone slipped from Whitney’s grasp, hitting the floor with a sharp, jarring smack that echoed in the tense atmosphere of the office.
Frank, sitting across from her, looked bewildered. “Whitney? What’s wrong? Are you still worried about the competition between Mr. Walton and Hector?”
She took a deep breath, trying to steady her racing heart. “It’s nothing to stress over. Usually, Mr. Barton is on Mr. Walton’s side. This time, Hector is just trying to undercut us to snag the Harris Group contract. Once Mr. Barton knows the full situation, I’m sure he won’t support Hector.”
Valerie, who had been listening intently, leaned closer, her voice low and conspiratorial. “You might want to think twice about that. I heard there are some connections over at the Harris Group.”
“Who?” Whitney and Frank both questioned, their curiosity piqued.
“You know who I’m talking about,” Valerie whispered, her eyes glinting with mischief. “Mr. Walton’s ex-wife!”
The realization hit Whitney like a cold wave. Suddenly, her phone was just an afterthought, lying abandoned on the floor.
When she finally bent down to retrieve it, her heart raced as she flipped it over. For a brief moment, her mind went completely blank.
Her fingers quivered slightly as she grasped the device, recalling that she had been on a video call with Klein for a good ten minutes.
In a panic, Whitney hastily pressed the end call button, the sharp click resonating in her ears.
As soon as she hung up, an unsettling feeling washed over her. It appeared as if she had deliberately called Klein, allowing him to overhear her venting about him, only to abruptly cut him off to create a scene.
In that moment, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she had become one of those wicked, conniving characters straight out of a sensational webnovel.
With a nervous breath, she opened the chat with Klein once more.
Whitney: [Uncle Klein, I’m really sorry. If I claimed that everything that just happened was a total coincidence, would you believe me?]
Klein: [A coincidence? So, you just happened to open my chat, stared at it for half an hour, accidentally pressed the call button, and I just happened to overhear you gossiping with your coworkers?]
Tears of frustration threatened to spill from Whitney’s eyes, but she could only muster a single desperate reply. [Yes!]
Klein: [What a coincidence. Speaking of coincidences, I’ll be passing by your office shortly. How about we grab dinner and have a chat tonight?]
Whitney felt a wave of dread wash over her. *Can I even say no to that?* she thought, feeling utterly trapped. *Nope, saying no is not an option.*
With a reluctant smiley emoji, she replied, [Okay, Mr. Harris.]
Klein narrowed his eyes at her casual title of “Mr. Harris,” a chuckle escaping his lips.
*Damn it. I told her to stop calling me Uncle Klein, and now she’s just getting more distant,* he mused.
Klein responded, [Catch you tonight, Ms. Moore.]
Whitney felt as though the ground beneath her might swallow her whole when she read his message.
Just as she was about to faint from the embarrassment, Ivan Walton emerged from Townsend’s office, his expression grim.
“Boss, how did it go?” The anticipation was palpable as everyone turned to him, eager for news.
Ivan shrugged, his indifference evident. “Nothing much. Mr. Barton said that whoever secures the contract gets it.”
“It doesn’t matter how you go about getting it,” he added nonchalantly.
The weight of his words hung heavy in the air, and Whitney’s heart sank along with the expressions of her colleagues.
As Gina Parsons strolled past their group, she flashed a sly smile. “Mr. Walton, what’s going on? You don’t look so hot.”
Ivan remained silent, his gaze lingering on his ex-wife, the tension between them palpable.
With Ivan’s silence, Whitney and the others returned to their desks, the air thick with unspoken words.
Seeing that her jab had fallen flat, Gina lost interest and sauntered away, leaving Whitney feeling even more despondent. This was the harsh reality of their industry; connections often outweighed talent.
It wasn’t enough to possess exceptional skills; one needed a powerful network to truly succeed.
Unfortunately, Ivan was in the same predicament as her. They were both fighting their battles alone.
Stealing a glance at the clock, Whitney decided to slip out ten minutes early. She didn’t want anyone at work to see her leaving with Klein; explaining herself would be impossible.
Klein observed her as she sneaked into his car, raising an eyebrow. “What’s the hurry? Got the cops on your tail or something?”
Whitney stiffened momentarily. “No, Mr. Harris. You can drive now.”
Klein noted the anxiety etched on her face but took his time before starting the engine.
“Well, Ms. Moore, what are you in the mood for tonight?” he asked casually.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.