"You’re so right! For us junior reporters, we have to make an appointnt just to see Governor Lockwood. It’s impossible to get our articles done on ti. But things will be easier from now on. With Lockwood here at the Astoria Daily, it’s like we have a living, breathing all-access pass, haha..."
This sentint resonated with the crowd, and they all laughed in agreent.
Phoebe Lockwood said, feigning magnanimity, "My father is usually very busy, but if any of you need to interview him, I can pass on the ssage."
"Lockwood, you’re too kind! I think we should take you out for lunch during our break. What do you all think?"
"Of course we should! Oh, right, the person by the door is a new hire too, right? You should join us for lunch as well."
Soone ntioned Claire Sinclair, who was standing awkwardly by the door. The others rely shot her a cursory glance before turning their attention back to Phoebe Lockwood.
No one seed willing to engage with Claire Sinclair...
Claire Sinclair felt awkward, so she remained silent. She walked into the office by herself, planning to report to Teacher Hartwell.
As she walked, another round of fawning conversation over the governor’s daughter erupted behind her.
"Lockwood, that outfit you’re wearing is gorgeous! Where did you buy it? It suits your style perfectly!"
"It’s from CG’s latest collection this year. My dad told to be low-key when I’m out, so I just bought this one. It was only 20,000. I have plenty of other beautiful ones at ho, all bought with my own money."
"Wow, that’s so impressive! Buying such expensive clothes for yourself before you’ve even started working..."
Phoebe Lockwood reveled in the feeling of being put on a pedestal, grinning from ear to ear. Every now and then, she would sneak a glance at Claire Sinclair’s back.
’I can’t believe Claire Sinclair still showed up for work after I got her pushed down to the entertainnt departnt. I really underestimated this woman.’
’No matter. Soon enough, everyone at the Astoria Daily will have to walk on eggshells around . I’ll pay her back a hundredfold for the humiliation I suffered at yesterday’s interview!’
...
Claire Sinclair made a loop around the large office and finally found Teacher Hartwell in a corner, sleeping like the dead.
It was hard to tell how many days it had been since he’d last showered. He gave off the unpleasant, sour stench unique to a large man, stubble dotted his chin, and a trickle of drool escaped the corner of his mouth.
’This guy must have pulled an all-nighter, huh?’
Claire Sinclair pinched her nose, her voice coming out muffled. "Teacher Hartwell, I’m here."
Henry Hartwell jolted awake, wiped away his drool, and said imdiately, "Oh, ti for work. Find a place to sit for now. I’ll get you so materials to look over."
"Okay." Claire Sinclair looked around. It didn’t seem like there were any empty seats.
Henry Hartwell stood up. "You sit here. I’ll find another spot."
With that, he wandered off to find another seat...
Claire Sinclair raised an eyebrow. ’Is this guy for real?’
’Whatever. It’s never a bad idea to just do what your boss says.’
Claire Sinclair quickly tidied up the desk before sitting down. She turned on the computer, only to discover it was a total antique—it took nearly three minutes just to boot up.
Used to a high-speed machine, Claire Sinclair couldn’t stand how slow it was. She cleaned it up, freeing over ten gigabytes of space, and it finally started running much more smoothly.
Just then, Henry Hartwell returned, carrying a thick stack of photocopied materials, which he dropped onto her desk.
"Claire Sinclair, take a look through these. When you feel like you’ve got a good handle on them, write an article on the the of environntal pollution. If it’s good, we can publish it on our official blog. As long as it gets over 5 million views, you’ll get a 500-yuan commission."
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