The man behind the desk, looking stern and serious, lifted his head and broke the silence. "Darnell, remember to knock."
Darnell made a dismissive gesture at him and nonchalantly walked into the room, sitting in the reception area. "So, are you satisfied?"
Basil had already seen the woman following Basil. His eyes flickered as he turned to Basil with a frown. "It's too conventional."
Under Darnell's skillful hands, the girl's naivety had faded, replaced by an imposing and flamboyant beauty, exuding charm with every move. Yet, in his eyes, it was second-rate. He had initially thought the girl should retain her crystal-clear purity.
However, in the entertainment industry, girls like her were as numerous as fish in a river. How many could maintain their original purity? Forget it!
But Cierra had no idea what was going through the director's mind. Hearing the word "conventional" nearly made her erupt. Was Basil indirectly calling her tacky?
He's the one who's tacky, his whole family is tacky! Just as she was about to jump up and curse his ancestors, Darnell came up to her, carefully inspecting his handiwork.
"Too conventional? I don't think so! I think she's stunning. There aren't many in the entertainment industry who can match her. Are you starting to doubt my skills?"
In the end, he sighed and relented. "Fine, there's still time. Maybe I'll adjust the style a bit."
Cierra felt her eye twitch. Did these men think she was dead? Didn't anyone care about her feelings as the "tacky one"?
"It's fine. This look is actually good for today. Newcomers need a bit of impact to gain exposure. Let's keep it for now."
"Got it." Darnell nodded without objection, giving her a thumbs-up before leaving.
Cierra rolled her eyes at him, feeling that he might know more than he was letting on.
"Let's go!" Basil grabbed his leather jacket from the back of the chair.
She then noticed that today's style was completely different from his formal look yesterday. The tall, straight man was wearing a linen casual shirt and black slim-fit pants, giving off a literary vibe. But paired with the leather jacket, it seemed mismatched, like the sneakers on her feet.
"Un—no, I mean, Mr. Logan, where are we going?" She clutched her heart, almost calling him "Uncle."
Basil glanced at her with emotionless eyes. "So many questions. Just follow my order."
She took a deep breath, silently repeating "he's the employer" at least twenty times, suppressing the urge to throw him over the window. Calling her full of question? She had only asked one question since entering!
Sitting in Basil's hatchback electric car, the silence made the atmosphere inside the car stifling. She busied herself looking out the window. It was only her third day in the book world, and her life was already chaotic. She hadn't even had time to study the differences between Cynthia's fictional world and real life.
"I thought about it yesterday. Combining your two suggestions might work. You'll pose as an artist signed to my agency. How you make the connection is up to you."
"Oh!" Cierra's mind was entirely on the colorful scenery outside the window, and she replied absentmindedly.
She had no enthusiasm for the task at hand. She had left home early, hastily ate a convenience store pastry for breakfast, and it was nearing noon. Without eating more food soon, she felt she might dry up. Dead people couldn't play newly signed artists!
Suddenly, her stomach grumbled loudly.
The man in the driver's seat heard it too.
"Hungry?" Basil didn't look at her, coolly maneuvering the steering wheel as they exited the T City interchange.
Cierra nodded, her face flushing with embarrassment, covering her stomach with her right hand to prevent more shameful sounds.
"Perfect timing, we're almost at the restaurant."
The car smoothly drove into a well-known high-rise building in T City. As soon as they stopped, a valet ran over to take the car from Basil.
Cierra looked up at the towering skyscraper, knowing that in the real world, dining at a high-floor restaurant here would be incredibly expensive. Could it be that the man was planning to take her here for a meal?
However, there were quite a few luxury hotels upstairs as well. Thinking of this, she couldn't help but tighten the collar of her shirt in worry.
The man glanced at her action without saying anything, but his face couldn't hide the sneer. He walked into the building and pressed the button for the eighty-eighth floor.
Cierra pouted, thinking this person probably failed manners class in elementary school. But she couldn't dwell on it because he had already strode into the elevator impatiently. She had to jog to catch up and follow him into the elevator to the eighty-eighth floor.
As soon as the elevator doors opened, a waiter was already waiting outside. He quickly guided them to a window seat. Cierra, still childlike in nature, was thrilled by the view of T city spread out beneath her, even though it was broad daylight. She leaned exaggeratedly against the window, overflowing with excitement.
However, Basil didn't seem to share her good mood.
He had been in the entertainment industry for many years, calculating everything and dealing with people's tricks and schemes. He had long mastered the skill of hiding his emotions. But the woman in front of him was an anomaly. Yesterday, he had wanted nothing more than for this sharp-tongued woman to shut up. Now, he was surprised to find her vivid emotions slightly affecting him.
This wouldn't do! He composed himself and casually glanced around the restaurant. This was a favorite spot for political and business elites, so paparazzi often lurked here. As expected, the person sitting alone at the table to their left was the top paparazzo from a well-known tabloid.
If they were going to put on a show, they had to do it right. Thinking this, Basil immediately adjusted his expression and gave Cierra the first smile she had ever seen from him. "What would you like to eat?"
Cierra glanced at Basil's stiff and unnatural smile, feeling a shiver run down her spine.
Oh my, why does he smile so weirdly?
