CHAPTER 201: CHAPTER 201: SOWING DISCORD

At this dining table, everyone tacitly remained silent.

The legal department’s Lydia West spoke from Wendy Archer’s table.

"Why not reach out to Finn Young? I heard she was once part of our marketing department. Technically, as long as she’s available, she should help her old company, right?"

Wendy Archer sighed.

With a furrowed brow and a reluctant tone, she spoke.

"Finn doesn’t pay me any attention. Previously, I tried to ask her for a contribution, but she read my messages without responding. When she was at the company, she often went to see President Hawthorne. I walked into them a few times, and perhaps that’s why she holds a grudge against me."

Lydia West wasn’t swayed.

"She was a team leader in the marketing department before, wasn’t it normal to report to President Hawthorne? Plus, who would voluntarily go to President Hawthorne? He’s like King Yama."

Wendy Archer’s prepared explanation was instantly blocked.

She lowered her eyes and forced a bitter smile, saying, "Perhaps, she has some intention of cozying up to President Hawthorne."

"I don’t think she’s that kind of person. She has a child; why would she bring a child if she’s cozying up?"

Wendy Archer wouldn’t let it go.

"After all, President Hawthorne’s face is right there."

Lydia West took a sip of creamy soup and waved her hand.

"Seeing President Hawthorne’s face might make me feel alive for an extra hour today, but when he starts speaking, I feel I might die three hours earlier."

Wendy Archer opened her mouth.

Those who work at Hawthorne Group and reach middle to high positions are all savvy.

Any topic that feels off won’t continue; they won’t give people the opportunity to be used as pawns.

Lydia West has been in the legal department for many years.

She always adheres to two points.

Never speak ill, never set impossible aims.

Even in front of a partner, she wouldn’t speak badly about anyone.

No matter how unimpressive an intern she might despise is, who can guarantee that they won’t become a big shot in the industry one day?

As for Declan Hawthorne.

He’s the high tower flower of Hawthorne Group.

Previously, during a press conference, there were plenty of people online bewitched by his face; why would she join in?

Wendy Archer’s intentions are clear to Lydia West.

Admiring Declan Hawthorne, there’s nothing wrong with that.

Having dreams makes anyone remarkable.

But Lydia West couldn’t agree with her wanting to provoke Finn Young in her speech.

Both insiders and outsiders know how stunning Poppy Hale’s appearance was at that press conference.

She single-handedly turned the tides.

She completely reversed a somewhat one-sided situation.

On that day, the Hawthorne Group’s stock hit the upper limit.

Saving the legal department untold effort.

Now, inside the company, everyone’s computer screens have Finn Young’s game illustrations.

They’re nearly to the point of worshiping her.

Lydia West would have to be crazy to join Wendy Archer in badmouthing Poppy Hale.

"Maybe President Hawthorne already knew Finn Young’s identity. She often went to him just to talk about game illustrations; it’s normal. Don’t jump to conclusions; she’s a mom after all. One shouldn’t spread such rumors."

Wendy Archer awkwardly laughed.

"You’re right, I didn’t mean anything else. We’re all women; I just understand what Poppy Hale is thinking."

Lydia West realized nothing was getting through, so she stopped talking.

She lost the desire to continue the conversation with Wendy Archer.

She shouldn’t have arranged this meal.

At the table next door.

The waitress packed the meal Poppy Hale had bought and sent it over.

Poppy Hale smiled, saying, "You guys go ahead and eat. I have to deliver food to the workaholic."

Amber Yates shook her head promptly.

"We’ve also had enough."

Passing by the table next door, Amber Yates took a glance, calmly saying, "Janine, have you had enough?"

"Full, half is food, half is gossip; only the gossip is a bit sour and might be spoiled."

Amber Yates chuckled.

"Poppy, thanks for treating us to such an expensive meal."

Poppy Hale was settling the bill, paused to remember she used Declan Hawthorne’s card, and quickly signed his name.

"No problem, it’s not really me treating; it’s my husband’s money."

Poppy Hale turned, winked at the slightly stunned Lydia West, smiling warmly.

Lydia West’s previous words had some intent of self-defense.

Poppy Hale remembered this goodwill.

Without even looking at Wendy Archer, Poppy Hale left the restaurant.

Morgan Sloan turned around, sternly warning them with a displeased look, his face dark enough to drip ink.

Lydia West was originally a bit panicked.

Gossiping behind someone’s back is inherently immoral.

Especially when the person overhears you.

But Poppy Hale’s smile instantly eased Lydia West’s worried heart.

Across from her, Wendy Archer had already lost her appetite.

Why was Poppy Hale here?

And Morgan Sloan too.

Morgan Sloan held the highest position in the secretariat; everyone knows he’s the most capable of fierce loyalty by Declan Hawthorne’s side.

Everything overheard just now, he would inevitably report to Declan Hawthorne.

Wendy Archer’s forehead broke out with cold sweat.

-

Returning to the office.

Poppy Hale placed the items in her hands on Declan Hawthorne’s desk.

The man stood by the window, on the phone.

His jacket tossed on the sofa, wearing only an exquisite houndstooth vest, with complementing tailored trousers, looking like an elegant British scholar.

Poppy Hale thought.

He seems to have endless meetings and phone calls every day.

Seeing Poppy Hale return, Declan Hawthorne turned around, speaking to the person on the phone.

"Uncle, I’ll hang up now; my wife is back."

Miles Hawthorne on the other side protested several times.

"Have your niece-in-law say hi; I haven’t met your wife yet!"

After all, Declan Hawthorne is the first of his Hawthorne Family generation to get married.

Declan Hawthorne gestured for Poppy Hale.

He put the phone on speaker.

"My uncle’s on the phone."

Poppy Hale politely said, "Hello, Uncle."

"Hello, congratulations on your wedding. I’ve prepared a gift for you that you’ll surely love!"

Declan Hawthorne calmly replied, "No need for a gift, as long as you don’t cause trouble, that’s a good thing."

Declan Hawthorne’s words were out of concern that Miles Hawthorne’s wedding gift might be something bizarre or unusual.

Last year, on Old Master Hawthorne’s birthday, Miles sent a giant box back.

Upon opening it, a clown jumped out, scaring Old Master Hawthorne so much he nearly took his leave early; they’d have had to hold a birthday and funeral together.

From then on, Miles was banned from sending anything to the old residence.

His gifts were shocking rather than surprising.

Miles discontentedly protested.

"What nonsense, you brat! This time, what I send will guarantee you’ll be thrilled beyond measure! When’s the wedding?"

"Tentatively next May."

The sound of rustling came from Miles’ side, as if rummaging for something.

"Oh, that’s later than mine. No matter, a gift sent early is just as good."

Upon hearing him mention his wedding, Declan Hawthorne silently pressed his temples.

It sounded like Miles not only planned to get married but was full of anticipation for the wedding.

Declan Hawthorne suddenly found himself speechless.

Unsure of what to say.

Miles Hawthorne was called by someone, and soon he hung up.

Declan Hawthorne instructed, "When Uncle sends the gift over, I’ll be the one to open it."

"Are you that worried?"

Poppy Hale opened the packed lunch and handed it over.

Declan Hawthorne doesn’t have any special dietary preferences; weekday lunches are merely a matter of filling up, and he’s not picky about what he eats.

In this aspect, he’s quite easy to please.

The man smirked helplessly.

"If you knew the kind of bizarre things my uncle has done, you’d be alarmed too."