Sumr Monroe was almost set ablaze with jealousy.
She stared fixedly at Evelyn Clayton, and after a long while, gave a sarcastic smile towards Tristan Hawthorne.
"Oh, now I get it, it’s Director Hawthorne. Director Hawthorne is always the victor in business, but his taste isn’t that great, huh?"
A chilling gleam crossed Franklin Ford’s eyes as he stared firmly at Sumr Monroe, "Sister-in-law, you’ve said enough for today."
Sumr Monroe was slightly shocked by the cold glare in Franklin Ford’s eyes, and instinctively stopped the remaining words on her lips, inexplicably not daring to speak further.
Tristan Hawthorne didn’t bother to deal with Sumr Monroe, only smiling slightly at Evelyn Clayton, "Evelyn, I’m not sure if I can snatch your exclusive design in the future, but I sure got a good deal with the Erald Water Dream."
These words made Evelyn Clayton’s face flush slightly.
She knew Tristan Hawthorne was backing her up.
The cost of the Erald Water Dream was high and the design unique, but it didn’t quite reach the level of seventy thousand, let alone count as getting a "good deal."
"Not at all. If you really like it, I can make a custom one for you when I have ti." Evelyn Clayton’s eyes showed a hint of gratitude.
With Tristan Hawthorne’s support, the guests present gradually ward up.
The sound of the auctioneer’s gavel beca frequent and incessant.
Yara Reagan arrived just in ti to hear one item being auctioned for nearly ten thousand dollars.
She was overjoyed and went to find Evelyn Clayton, only to see Sumr Monroe standing there with an unpleasant expression.
"Why is Director Monroe still here?" Yara Reagan fired accurately, "What, do you want to buy sothing to try on? Sorry, but there might not be your size here."
Yara Reagan never engaged in such personal attacks, but her loathing for Sumr Monroe had reached its peak.
The last bit of color drained from Sumr Monroe’s face as she glared fiercely at Yara Reagan and stomped away.
With the troublemaker gone, the atmosphere finally eased a bit.
After Franklin Ford exchanged pleasantries with Tristan Hawthorne, Evelyn Clayton called Tristan Hawthorne aside to talk alone, letting Franklin Ford and Yara Reagan socialize together.
"Thank you for today." Evelyn Clayton looked grateful, "Without your bidding, the event might have cooled down for a while."
Tristan Hawthorne smiled, "Don’t ntion it. Your fashion show was great today; selling out was just a matter of ti. Who knows, when you beco famous, I might profit from it."
Evelyn Clayton spoke earnestly, "I owe you a favor. If you need any help in the future, just say the word."
Upon hearing this, Tristan Hawthorne’s smile grew more mysterious.
"No need to be so polite. Besides, I was doing this for soone else today."
Evelyn Clayton was taken aback, "What?"
Tristan Hawthorne raised an eyebrow mysteriously, "It’s nothing. Well, I have to leave now."
With that, Tristan Hawthorne hurriedly left.
Evelyn Clayton suddenly turned her head at a thought.
A window at the corner of the third floor was open, the breeze gently blowing through, but no one was there.
However, in the safety passage behind the corner, Keith Donovan and Jas Grant withdrew their gaze and hid themselves.
Keith Donovan took out a pack of cigarettes and handed one to Jas Grant.
Smoke swirled in the corridor, blurring Jas Grant’s cool and aloof face.
Keith Donovan flicked the ash from his cigarette and hissed softly, "What are you after? We should count this as a good deed, right? Instead of seeking credit, why are we sneaking around like this?"
Jas Grant’s long lashes drooped slightly, concealing the complex and chaotic emotions in his eyes.
He seed to still be imrsed in the dreamlike vision of the Erald Water Dream, unable to detach himself, his mind full of the monts with Evelyn Clayton.
The emotions when he was with her, the confused and elusive desire.
After a long ti, he extinguished his cigarette and left indifferently.
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