CHAPTER 135: UNFAZED

At Grace & Bloom,

The office renovation and expansion had finally been completed, transforming the space into a functional yet refined studio ready for business.

Aveline drove her car through the gates, glancing at the reporters outside.

The security guard greeted Aveline with a smile when she rolled her window down, "Morning, Ms. Laurent. Looking sharp as always."

She returned the greeting with a polite smile as she entered her company at five minutes to nine.

She had no intention of entertaining the press. The clients she would like to work with didn’t care for gossip blogs or local headlines.

Though the cameras flashed towards her and reporters called out to her from the gates, Aveline effortlessly used her bag to block her face when moving from the parking to the stairs. Then her hair framed her face, avoiding cameras from a side angle.

She was stepping towards her office, but her heels paused at the sight of Theodore Marston on the couch.

The receptionist quickly rushed towards her and explained, "Ms. Laurent, Mr. Marston took the appointment of Mr. Nolan, but he insisted that he wait for you."

Aveline instructed, "Get Nolan if I cue."

"Yes, Ms. Laurent." The receptionist returned to her desk.

As Aveline walked towards him, Theodore spoke, "I would like to discuss an event with you, Ms. Laurent," he said, rising to his feet with a slow, knowing smile.

Aveline glanced at the receptionist and gave a subtle nod as she proceeded and sat on the couch, pointing at the couch for him to take a seat.

"How may we help you?" She asked.

Theodore began, "I won’t beat around the bush then. I’m opening a branch of Marston & Co. here in Velmora. I thought the floral exhibit would give me some good PR to build local buzz, but clearly, I misjudged everything. So I figured, what’s better than working directly with the winner?" By the end, he pointed towards her.

Aveline wanted to refuse to work with him. Given the allegations of cheating at the exhibit, collaborating with Theodore would only fuel speculation that she had won because of a prior connection.

He paused for a moment, failing to read her calm expression without reacting to his words. "In case you are busy on inauguration day, I would like to invite you to create a masterpiece for the event."

"Why?" Aveline asked. "You could have gone with any kind of installation, why the flower installation?" She asked as she pointed at the couch for Nolan, the creative head, to take a seat.

Theodore grasped that Aveline wasn’t so easy. She wouldn’t accept work if she was unsatisfied. So he had to come up with a reason.

He awkwardly laughed, "To tell you the truth, my wife insisted I go with Grace & Bloom and request your installation. She loves flowers. I’m personally here to make her wish come true." He lied smoothly about his marital status.

Nolan lifted his hand to interrupt their conversation. He spoke when Aveline nodded, "Ms. Laurent, working with Mr. Marston will cause rumors against you due to the floral exhibit fiasco. We should rather wait for a good opportunity instead of a bad start."

Before Aveline could react, Theodore spoke. "Let them talk," he said with a shrug. "Rumors die fast when the work speaks for itself. And I believe yours does."

Aveline plainly said, "I agree with my creative head."

A faint twitch in his jaw betrayed the irritation Theodore quickly masked with a polite smile. It was the first time someone had refused him so plainly, and with such poise.

He couldn’t help but wonder if the truth behind the refusal was what Nolan said or if Aveline had learned about his identity. Whatever it was, he was mind-blown by the presence of mind and calmness of the two young people.

He also grasped that he had underestimated Aveline. The fall of Damien might not be coincidental. It was because Aveline was smart.

"How about an installation? I will have to request you to grant my wife’s wish." Theodore gave it another try. "That shouldn’t be a problem. We could just say I hired you for your talent."

Nolan nodded his head in agreement but didn’t comment, because it wouldn’t be an event but Aveline working on it.

For Aveline, it was an opportunity. That was the basic reason she entered the event and management field.

She weighed the pros and cons in a breath. If she wanted to be taken seriously in event art, she had to be careful.

"I could consider it," she said. "Send us the details, location, the space allotted for the art, and your requirements. We will get back to you."

Theodore offered a charming smile and dipped his head slightly. "Thank you, Ms. Laurent. I do hope we can work this out."

Aveline gave a single nod.

Nolan added, pointing towards the reception, "Sir, please collect our card from reception to email us the requirements."

As Theodore turned to leave, Aveline’s voice stopped him once more. "Mr. Marston, just so you know, I don’t replicate art." Her voice was crisp and clear.

He looked back, but she had already walked away without waiting for a reaction.

....

Theodore stepped into his car. The driver pulled away from the curb as Theodore took out his phone and made a call while flipping the black card between his fingers.

[Sir, how was the meeting?] The person on the other end asked.

"She’s not like the others," he said, voice low. "Aveline Laurent... She is sharp and composed. She doesn’t bite at bait."

[Didn’t she agree to work with us?]

"No, not yet. But she asked for specifics—date, location, layout, and requirements. Send her everything she asked for. And while you’re at it..." he paused, glancing at the people on the footpath, "...get me a wife."

"...Excuse me, sir?"

"A fake wife," he said impatiently. "We have to make her believe she exists. Photos, drama, the whole thing. If she doubts, I want a believable backstory."

He leaned back in his seat, eyes narrowing as he continued, "And start preparing a backup plan for Ms. Laurent’s downfall. Just in case."

The line went quiet as he ended the call. The car rolled on, leaving behind the buildings and the woman who, for the first time in years, had surprised him.

’She isn’t just a wild card,’ he thought. She was a queen on the board, and he would be damned if he let her control his game.