CHAPTER 389: CHAPTER 389: TURMOIL IN THE SELECTION

Cameron Grant opened Quinn Lockwood’s chat window and, after typing the words "Good night, sweet dreams," he didn’t close the window but sat quietly waiting.

As expected, on the other end, Quinn Lockwood replied with her usual line, "Good night, brother."

Cameron’s gaze fell on the word "brother," finding it particularly glaring.

In the past, he thought having this identity as an excuse was quite convenient, allowing him to be closer to Quinn without considering the gossip while being kind to her.

But now it’s different. Now, Cameron dislikes this brotherly identity, as it’s become a barrier to any further development between him and Quinn.

Due to this identity, she has always avoided and minded her feelings, or perhaps Quinn never understood his feelings for her at all.

He clearly didn’t feel sibling affection for her, yet he had to disguise it as such.

Cameron sighed deeply, the light in his gentle eyes gradually dimming, a trace of coolness spreading.

Meanwhile, Quinn had long fallen asleep, unaware that Elias Sinclair had been watching her for a while in her room.

The next day, Quinn successfully slept until her alarm woke her up, stretching lazily.

"Ah, time to get to work." Quinn yawned, then climbed out of bed to tidy herself up.

After all, she was going to interview others. As an actress and owner of her own studio, she needed to present herself as glamorous and poised to her potential employees.

Quinn buttoned up her black British-style business suit jacket while stepping into her high heels.

Wearing such formal attire was quite uncomfortable; it seems she would have to gradually get used to business outfits.

After pinning a delicate, beautiful brooch at her shirt’s collar, Quinn looked at herself in the mirror, involuntarily recalling Joyce Kramer in her business attire next to Elias Sinclair.

Her expression slightly darkened, feeling a bit stifled and sour in her heart.

Why did she suddenly think of her? She wasn’t skilled in handling company affairs like a professional executive; it was perfectly normal for her to be unaccustomed to formal wear, so why mind it?

Quinn pursed her lips tightly, gathering materials and documents she might need later, trying to forget about Joyce.

Upon reaching the studio, Quinn found plenty of interviewees already waiting in the lobby.

However, the entire morning passed without finding a suitable manager.

"How many interviewees are left?" During the break, Quinn asked one of the staff nearby.

The staff member clicked the mouse, turned respectfully, and replied, "Miss, there are still one hundred twenty-five left."

Quinn maintained a calm exterior, but internally she broke into a sweat.

There were still over a hundred!

It seemed it wasn’t that she couldn’t find a suitable one, but rather that there were too many interviewees, and she had to focus on quality and character.

She’d been frightened by agents like Anna, who wore different faces inside and out.

During the break, Quinn went to the restroom to quickly tidy up her appearance but overheard a sharp, angry female voice from outside.

"Why are there still so many people in line?"

"Don’t you know what kind of person Savannah Lowell is? Just choosing a manager, yet nothing is ever right with her. Even someone with my years of experience was rejected."

A woman with short chestnut-colored hair and bright red lipstick crossed her arms, looking at the other waiting interviewees with resentment.

She was an agent at a small, inconspicuous media company. Though the company wasn’t big, she had over five years of experience.

As for her achievements, she’d only managed to make a few internet celebrities popular.

Quinn felt that her expertise might not be very helpful to her own side, so she politely turned her down.

The woman left the office almost throwing her resume down, seemingly thinking Quinn didn’t know what was good for her or appreciate her worth.

"Wendy, what happened?" a young girl who knew this woman named Wendy asked in confusion when she saw Wendy’s dissatisfaction.

Weren’t they all here to apply for the position of Savannah Lowell’s manager? Why would Wendy badmouth her?

"What happened? Just annoyed by her playing hard to get. You all know about that Anna, right? I don’t know what grudge she had, but she took people to court." Wendy raised an eyebrow, her eyes filled with barely suppressed anger and disdain.

Who does Savannah Lowell think she is? Just a celebrity, what’s so impressive about that? She has lots of internet celebrities with millions of followers, none of whom dared to disobey her.

"With someone like her, I really wish she wouldn’t pick me, saving me the constant anxiety." Wendy genuinely appeared to look down on Quinn.

Hearing this, several rejected interviewees around Wendy started agreeing with her, showing sour grapes demeanor.

Quinn, standing by the restroom door, heard every word from this woman.

She couldn’t help but sneer coldly, as she coldly planned to go out and properly teach Wendy the rules of being an agent.

Before she even took her first step, she heard a sweet but formidable voice.

"Why are you failed interviewees still lingering here? Instead of badmouthing others, why not learn how to conduct yourselves properly? If you lack ability, don’t blame the boss for not choosing you. What kind of employees are you even?"

A woman with clear, round, and doe-like eyes and a cute appearance was leaning against the wall, lowering her head slightly while looking ahead seriously.

After she finished speaking, she sneered disdainfully, then stood up and coldly walked toward the women who badmouthed Quinn.

"The type of helper matches the identity. There’s more than one level between internet celebrities and stars. Even if a toad wants to eat swan meat, it better see if it’s worthy or not, right?"

The woman’s milk tea-colored short hair had wavy curls at the ends, her face was a standard egg shape, and her eyes didn’t smile but curved like crescent moons, radiating a clear and rippling light.

Although her look was sweet and cute, her figure was as hot as Quinn’s, with fullness where needed and slimness where appropriate.

Upon hearing her words, Wendy’s face turned pale with anger, pointing at the girl with her finger and reprimanding, "Who are you calling unworthy? Cheeky girl, clarify your words!"

The woman slapped Wendy’s hand away, crossed her arms, and tugged at the corner of her mouth.