I pick up the pieces and put them all in a bag, and take it out of the door.
Frances Louis will be back in the evening, so I must solve it during the day.
I call Steven Song and tell him I'd be late. I get the leave permit so easily. It’s nice to have a boss
buddy.
Then I call Mindy Sue. She tells me a shop that restores antiques, and I go there excitedly.
The boss is a woman of about thirty, not glamorous, but graceful, who looks very comfortable.
When I get in, she is cleaning an inkstone.
She sees me come in and gives me a soft smile.
“Hello.” I go up to her and take the bag out. “Ms, please have a look at this vase and would you repair
it?”
The boss puts down the inkstone and takes over the bag.
She frowns when she sees the pieces.
“Broke into pieces.”
My heart suddenly stops and I ask her hurriedly, “Can it be repaired?”
Oh no. It must be repaired. Or I can’t pay it off even if I die one hundred times.
“I will try my best but I can’t promise.” The boss replies.
“When? Can it be repaired today?” I ask anxiously.
If this vase can't be fixed today, I would definitely die.
The boss, perhaps touched by my expectant and eager eyes, looks at me and says, “Since you're in a
hurry, I'm not going to do anything else today and will focus on this. But I'm not the boss. I'm just an
employee.”
She smiles at me and dumps out the pieces.
“I remember this blue-and-white porcelain vase. It is not very big. But it must be difficult to be repaired
because it has been broken into forty or fifty pieces now.”
“Thank you. I will come again around six in the afternoon.”
I get out of the antique store and go to the company.
“Late again. Who knows what you have done last night?”
Nicole Snow says to me sarcastically.
I know what she is saying. Noah Jefferson came here and confessed love to me yesterday. It was she
who said gossips that made it so awkward. Much of Nicole Snow's hostility toward me comes from
misunderstanding Steven Song and me.
I have explained but she doesn’t believe it. What can I do?
“That's my privacy. In this company, I just do my job. You have no business in my private things.” I say
to her confidently and go back to my seat.
I had a great idea last night during my menstrual cramps. I must draw it as soon as possible in case I
would forget.
When I'm designing the drawings, May Wilson is always wandering behind me. I feel like she wants to
see what I'm doing. A designer’s work is a private thing. I turn to her and say, “What are you doing
behind me when I am drawing? Do you want to copy it and give to another company?”
I don’t mean that May Wilson is a corporate spy, but she did disturb me by watching from behind.
Hearing what I say, May Wilson's face changes. She goes back to her desk without a word and doesn’t
come to my side again.
Now she is suspicious.
If she is not guilty, why does she go back so quickly without a word? It's not in keeping with her usual
arrogance.
My work goes on smoothly without May Wilson's prying eyes. I am still working when it is time for
lunch.
Once I get into work, I would forget about food and sleep.
“Don’t you have lunch?”
Someone taps me on the shoulder when I am working wholeheartedly.
I look back, and Steven Song is looking at me leisurely with his hands in his pockets.
“No. I am working. I can only get free when I earn enough money.” I say to him.
“Grinding a chopper will not hold up the work of cutting firewood. A full stomach gives strength to work.”
Steven Song says, pulling me out without asking my willingness.
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