Winning My Ex-Crush

Fenella’s POV

The woman walked briskly ahead of me, her shoes clacking loudly. The shoes she wore were even Oscar de Ragetti designs. I recognized them because Oscar had shown me his boutique when I signed the contract.

Upon arriving in the fairly large meeting room, I was invited to take a seat. Once again, I complied with the woman. Her bossy aura was thick, and her charisma made it nearly impossible for me to argue.

As I was about to sit down, she finally smiled warmly. Though it seemed I was starting to understand the difference between genuine and fake smiles, she resembled more of a sadistic robot who enjoyed rebelling against humans, as seen in movies.

“Which company are you from?” she asked sharply.NôvelDrama.Org (C) content.

“I’m from Gene Talent Management,” I replied spontaneously.

“The model and actor management company?” she asked with increased interest this time.

“Yes, exactly.” I nodded with a smile, glad that someone recognized my name.

“I thought they had gone bankrupt,” she chuckled arrogantly.

A smile faded from my face. What was that rude question? I thought she’d be a fan of Gene.

“Of course not. We’ve actually just started with fresh new management,” I defended my agency, of course.

“Well, I heard the new management has been having issues. You hired Laird to handle your problems, didn’t you?” She smirked crookedly.

“Yes, that’s right. My boss believes Laird can handle all issues well. He even doesn’t hesitate to pay Laird with a blank check.” I stopped myself from sitting down due to her provocative tone.

“But Laird didn’t even take hundreds of thousands of dollars from him,” she grunted irritably.

“Sorry, but how do you know about that?” I frowned.

“I’m his boss. He reports all the cases he’s working on to me. Are you Alan Schmidt’s assistant?” She furrowed her brow.

“No, I’m Gene’s lead model,” I said proudly.

She then scrutinized me from head to toe. Her brow furrowed again, and her lips curled. Her gaze was invasive and uncomfortable.

“You?” she scoffed disdainfully.

“Yes. Is there a problem with that?” I started to challenge her more boldly.

“Sorry, don’t be offended. No hard feeling. I’m just genuinely concerned about Gene’s condition under the new management,” she said, raising both hands in the air.

“You speak as if you know us intimately,” I retorted.

“Of course. I’m a fashion enthusiast, and I won’t let non-branded items touch my body. I often watch fashion shows too, and I know Ms. Lola, the previous owner; she was an angel.” Her voice softened, and she pressed her hand to her chest.

“Well, in that case, I hope you’ll support me because I’ve been part of Gene for seven years.” I lowered my voice now, pointing to myself.

“Sorry, but I really don’t know you. Maybe you’re still new, not as famous as Yuri Wu, and I don’t know if your fashion taste can match hers,” she shrugged, glancing me up and down.

“I’m the brand ambassador for Oscar de Ragetti. You like it, don’t you? Too bad those shoes were already sold at a discount in the summer.” I tilted my chin towards her shoes.

“It’s hard to look away when you find something suitable to stomp on,” she said, becoming even more disdainful, and her dislike was clear on the surface.

“In that case, you should wear rubber boots. Oscar would cry if he knew his shoes were being used improperly.” I shook my head.

“Do you have a special relationship with Laird?” One of her hands was now on her hip, changing the subject all of a sudden.

“Is that important?” I scoffed.

“I just want to maintain ethics between a lawyer and a client,” she said, waving her hand in the air and shaking her head. Her attitude was truly obnoxious.

“Is there such a thing? Everyone seems to have no ethics these days,” I shrugged.

“Oh, please, miss. We are a respectable law firm, not just any law firm. Mr. Evans would be very angry to know his son isn’t capable of doing his job,” the woman said, stepping closer to me this time.

“There’s no need to doubt Laird’s capabilities. I can assure you, he is very professional and competent in his work.” I also stepped closer to her.

“Say, are you really defending him like this?” She cocked her head, staring at me intensely.

“I’m his girlfriend,” I stated firmly this time.

Upon hearing my answer, the woman blinked her eyes repeatedly. Her mouth hung open, and her eyelids widened.

The meeting room fell silent momentarily as we both absorbed what had just happened. Everything we said, everything the woman wanted to dig into, and everything related to Laird were now clearly exposed.

What did this woman want? Was she really Laird’s boss? I stared sharply at her.

Suddenly, she laughed. She laughed while shaking her head. Her mouth even spat air to mock and dismiss a strand of hair that fell in front of her face.

“What did you just say? That’s the funniest thing I’ve ever heard,” she said, speaking with a high pitch.

Her laughter was now gone, replaced by an intimidating gaze, as if she were about to pounce on me with her claws. I didn’t know what this woman wanted or what her business with Laird was. One thing was certain: I wouldn’t back down. I puffed out my chest.

“That’s the truth. I am Laird’s girlfriend,” I said confidently once again.

“Please say it again a thousand times until I believe you, or it will really hurt my pride,” she said, pointing to her chest again.

“I am dating Laird,” I said slowly in front of her face.

“For how long? One week? Two weeks?”

“It’s been a month,” I said with a triumphant smile.

Ha! Take that!

“That’s impossible,” she said, furrowed her brow, and took a breath.

“Why do you say that? Is there something wrong?” I asked.

“Yes, that’s impossible. Laird is gay,” she blinked her eyes.

“He’s not gay,” I retorted with an annoyed snort.

“He said it himself,” the woman insisted, but I stuck to my opinion.