CHAPTER 104: CHAPTER 104: THAT TRENCH COAT

Classic style, perfectly tailored.

On Declan Hawthorne, a coat that should have been below-the-knee somehow looked shorter.

His cold demeanor gained a touch of scholarly elegance, making him appear much more approachable.

Over the cashmere sweater, a sweater chain dangled, ending with a plaster figurine.

It was hard to tell what it was supposed to be.

But Declan’s unique charm made it look like a high-end accessory, even if it was just abstract art.

It seemed like that plaster figurine was meant to match the trench coat.

Amber Yates whispered, "President Hawthorne is just President Hawthorne. I bought this same trench coat for my husband, and he looks like a Hobbit in it."

Long trench coats are a test of one’s figure.

Amber’s husband is quite handsome, fair-skinned, and resembles a college professor.

But compared to Declan’s model-like physique, he was still a bit lacking.

Poppy Hale rested her chin in her hand and said softly, "Looks like a new coat. Maybe he didn’t notice if it was new or not."

"True, someone as busy as President Hawthorne probably doesn’t care about release dates."

Janine shook her head, "You guys might have misunderstood. Look at President Hawthorne’s sweater chain."

"Doesn’t it look like something an art student tore off a plaster model? Maybe it’s a gift from President Hawthorne’s young girlfriend. Would he wear something like this outside?"

Poppy’s fingers curled inward.

Even though no one knew, she still felt a bit nervous.

Janine was right.

That sweater chain was something Poppy casually made during her college days.

Originally, she sculpted a plaster doll, but while her drawing was good, her sculpting was terrible. After hours of chiseling, she accidentally shaved off the doll’s face.

At the time, she wasn’t fond of that sweater chain.

Left it aside and later forgot what happened to it.

Probably just tossed it away.

Never expected Declan to keep it.

And that trench coat.

She thought he had thrown it away.

Poppy maintained a neutral expression, casually saying, "Maybe."

Amber clicked her tongue twice, "If I were President Hawthorne’s young girlfriend, and got to use his card, I’d buy more than just this coat, wouldn’t I? That girl is playing it safe."

Janine snorted.

"You? You’d only qualify as President Hawthorne’s ex-girlfriend."

Amber: "..."

No age-related insults, please!

Their conversation was quiet, only Mia Quinn, sitting beside them, overheard. Others, observing, assumed they were discussing work.

Mia pursed her lips, her gaze briefly pausing on Declan before returning.

"Poppy, I think President Hawthorne’s sweater chain looks a lot like that phone chain you made back then."

Poppy’s nails grazed her palm, leaving a faint red mark.

A gaze, faint but perceptible, seemed to land on her.

Poppy shook her head, "You saw wrong; I don’t make phone chains."

Morgan Sloan cleared his throat.

"For now, let’s invite Finn Young to complete a few promotional drawings, aiming at fan-oriented publicity. Subsequently, our lead artist will handle it, creating a stylistic distinction from Finn Young’s work. Everyone’s tasked with finding relevant illustrators, any questions?"

This strategy is most suitable at the moment.

If Finn Young’s drawings are used for official promos, any stylistic deviation in future games will face criticism.

Aimed as fanart, the positioning fits better.

Everyone in the meeting room shook their heads.

As they rose to leave the meeting, Declan’s gaze swept over them.

"Poppy Hale, come to my office."

Before Amber could make a dramatic plea for luck, Declan also called both Amber and Janine’s names.

Now, with all three gathered, they stood in Declan’s office.

"Your group’s reports from last quarter show a slight downward trend. Summarize the reasons, report to your respective supervisors. Poppy stays. Janine and Amber can leave, close the door."

With that, Amber and Janine fled like rabbits.

Afraid Declan might seize them to say more.

They didn’t even have time to exchange glances with Poppy.

Indeed, no matter how handsome, a capitalist is still a capitalist!

Declan listened to the door close, tapping his fingers on the desk.

"Sit."

The soft sound of the sofa rustled, but Declan didn’t look up.

"There’s candy in the desk drawer, the tea I just brewed has sugar."

The rich scent of the tea wafted over, much better than the overwhelming aroma in the meeting room.

Poppy didn’t touch the tea.

"President Hawthorne, is there something you need? I’ll prepare the last quarter’s summary."

"Forgot to tell you, your supervisor’s transferred to a branch office; you’ll report directly to me from now on."

Poppy pursed her lips, her delicate brows slightly furrowed.

She picked up the teacup, took a sip.

Then slowly said, "My supervisor..."

"Was promoted, you don’t have to worry. Her husband’s recently relocated to Cinderfall, a perfect reunion for the couple."

Poppy’s direct supervisor had always looked out for her.

A fearless woman, both decisive and strong.

Once during a business event, a client wanted Poppy to drink, and her supervisor handled it.

Something felt off about this sudden promotion, but since it involved a raise and a family reunion, there didn’t seem to be anything wrong.

Poppy nodded lightly, "Alright, I understand."

The office’s quartz clock resonated with a tick-tock, marking the seconds.

Declan picked up a pen to sign, stood up, and placed a document before Poppy.

"I revised the proposal from your group’s previous project. I’ve signed everything else that was fine."

The marketing department submits countless project proposals each quarter.

Some of the projects Poppy herself forgot, many were at their initial stages, barely even that.

For real execution, stringent internal reviews and analysis are required.

Declan, shockingly, had managed it for her.

Poppy glanced at the revised content, somewhat surprised.

"This project, I feel, isn’t mature enough right now."

"It isn’t mature, but it’s doable. Many profitable ventures begin from scratch."

Poppy was momentarily stunned.

Mr. Hale used to say the same thing.

"I’ll take it back, revisit it, and submit a revised version."

Declan nodded.

Poppy stood up, ready to leave with the document.

Her wrist was grasped by Declan, who, without a word, opened a drawer, scooped out the candies, and slipped them into Poppy’s hand.

"Take them; don’t get dizzy again."

The candy wrappers were a little coarse, making her palm itch.

Poppy didn’t refuse, took the candy with a stride, and left.

After she left, Declan picked up the teacup from which Poppy had sipped.

Took a sip from where her lips had touched.

The temperature was just right, though he was cold.

But it didn’t matter, no matter how cold and distant, it was his own doing.

Declan, you deserve it.