Chapter 3
Kyle slowly wiped strawberry juice from the corner of his mouth. “Don’t get upset, Charlotte. Blake’s outfit is probably rented.”
He walked over and squeezed my suit fabric hard. “Tsk, tsk, it’s a pretty good replica, actually.”
Charlotte suddenly sneered. “I knew it looked familiar! Mr. Mike Sterling, from Sterling Corp, wore that exact style at the finance summit last week, didn’t he?”
She reached out and tugged at my tie. “You shameless thing, wearing a knock-off to my company, trying to parade around and con people!”
I looked at Charlotte, her face red with fury. “Did it ever occur to you that it might be real?”
Charlotte scoffed. “You had to save up for half a year just to buy me a five-thousand-dollar bracelet. Do you even know how much a real one of these costs?”
Kyle also stood up and pushed me. “Didn’t Charlotte tell you not to come near her office? Why are you clinging to her like a stray dog? No wonder you’re still just a petty project manager after all these years.”
I pulled out a folder. “Wait, you two will be interested in this.”
I placed the folder on her desk. “Sterling Corp is very interested in the smart campus project. They’re willing to invest eighty million.”
Charlotte’s eyelashes trembled violently. “You know people from Sterling Corp?”
“He probably knows a janitor there?” Kyle burst out laughing. “Don’t try to act like a big shot! He couldn’t even afford the seafood buffet at the last team outing!”
Charlotte echoed his laughter from beside him, and I suddenly found it incredibly ironic.
Five years. Charlotte still didn’t know I was allergic to seafood.
The CFO happened to walk in to deliver reports and sneered when he heard the conversation:
“Mr. Sterling’s paychecks are still controlled by Ms. Peterson, where would he get money for designer brands?”
Charlotte seemed to regain her composure, her heels clicking as she strode towards me. “Listen, take off that cheap fake outfit right now!”
She suddenly ripped open my suit jacket. “Don’t embarrass yourself here anymor…!”
She stopped abruptly, seeing the Patek Philippe watch on my wrist beneath the suit.
“This watch?” she asked, incredulously.
Kyle saw it too. He leaned in to examine my watch. “This fake is pretty convincing. Did you steal it from a client?”
Charlotte, as if waking from a dream, pushed me out of the office:
“Take your fake watch and fake suit, and get out!”
I looked at the room full of clueless people. Just wait.
Soon enough, you’ll know who’s real and who’s fake.
A few days later, it was the company’s annual gala.
I stood in a corner, holding a glass of champagne. The rented suit’s sleeve was already fraying, but I had no choice but to wear it.
Charlotte had specifically texted me last night, demanding I “don’t wear your cheap junk and embarrass me.”
If she knew that the “cheap junk” she disdained was a custom-tailored suit she couldn’t afford with three years of her salary…
I wondered what her expression would be then.