Unlike the traditional auction thod, this ti it was a silent auction.
The ready-to-wear garnts had already been taken off the models and displayed on the auction stage.
Though many people ca and went, hardly anyone stopped to sign the auction sheet.
Evelyn Clayton glanced around, feeling a subtle wave of anxiety rise within her.
"Here, have a drink first." Franklin Ford handed her a glass of champagne, smiling gently to reassure her, "No need to rush, it’s just starting."
Knowing he was trying to comfort her, Evelyn took a sip of champagne and voiced her concern.
"Although the reaction at the show was good, showcasing and selling are two different things."
She looked at Franklin Ford, unable to hide her worry, "If we can’t sell them..."
"The buzz from this show is very high, you should check the online responses." Franklin Ford continued to smile lightly, "The effect I wanted has already been achieved. Designer Clayton, you have over-fulfilled the task. As for sales, if they don’t sell today, I have ways to sell them later."
Evelyn was taken aback for a mont, then smiled in relief and clinked glasses with Franklin.
"Oh, hasn’t the auction started yet?"
A smile remained on her face, but the voice from behind made Evelyn’s eyes flicker with irritation.
She turned around to see Sumr Monroe’s mocking gaze eting hers.
Evelyn curled her lips politely and distantly, "Director Monroe, have you never attended a silent auction?"
Sumr sneered, "Silent auction? Or is it that no one wants to buy?"
Underneath, Franklin Ford’s patience had run out.
Sumr had caused too much trouble today, like a clown.
"Sister-in-law, what exactly do you want to do?" Franklin Ford asked coldly, looking at Sumr.
Sumr took a leisurely sip of champagne, "I’m not planning anything. Franklin, I’m just worried you’ll lose everything."
Many people noticed the dispute over here and cast curious and gossiping glances.
Sumr got even more animated, raising her voice a bit.
"Though today’s show had so highlights, overall, it was dull and outdated with no innovation. So many dostic designers use traditional elents; I bet Designer Clayton knows that well. Look, hardly anyone’s buying now, proving that similar designs can’t captivate custors."
Evelyn’s face turned icy.
She had never seen anyone as stupid yet as wicked as Sumr.
As the owner of an investnt firm, Sumr publicly said these things just to provoke others into doubting Evelyn’s designs, suspecting plagiarism.
Rumors can cause misunderstandings, and in the end, even without plagiarizing, Evelyn might be labeled as a suspect.
"Director Monroe, speak with evidence. You say similar, where is it similar, and who is it similar to?"
Evelyn sneered coldly, "Not saying it out loud, are you trying to accuse without proof?"
"Do I need evidence? Nobody buying is the best proof!" Sumr retorted coldly.
However, just as Sumr finished speaking, a hamr sound suddenly fell from the stage—
Bam!
The host’s calm, smiling voice echoed throughout the venue.
"Congratulations to Mr. Hawthorne for winning the haute couture Erald Water Dream for seventy thousand!"
The room buzzed with chatter.
"Erald Water Dream... is from the finale model, right?"
"Yes, it looked really good... I also placed a bid, but I didn’t expect it to go so high!"
The murmurs grew louder, filled with astonishnt and regret, while Sumr stood frozen in place.
Evelyn was astonished too; she glanced around and finally spotted Tristan Hawthorne in a corner, smiling and raising his glass high at her.
A mont later, Tristan Hawthorne walked up, clinking glasses with the delighted Evelyn, and spoke playfully.
"Only by luck, I was afraid I wouldn’t win the Erald Water Dream, I was going to bid a hundred thousand."
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