"..."
Nathalie Quinlan was at a loss for words due to his teasing.
Jethro Yapiter laughed, "Then I’ll rember that, next ti I’ll add ice cubes for you, no sugar."
Nathalie Quinlan had been looking at the docunts, but his interruptions made it difficult to concentrate. She pinched her temples, which were throbbing, and looked at him with frustration in her dark eyes, "Mr. Yapiter, do you still want my help with these things or not?"
Her implication was clear—if he kept talking, she wouldn’t help. Jethro Yapiter raised his hands in a gesture of surrender.
"My mistake, Miss Quinlan, please continue. The finance departnt is waiting for the results. Mr. Ingram isn’t here, so you’re the only one who can make the decisions now."
"Take your ti."
He said that, but he couldn’t hide the gossipy amusent in his eyes.
It aggravated Nathalie Quinlan, and she decided to ignore him, forcing her attention back to the docunts.
This docunt on "The Research on the Application Value of Minimally Invasive Surgery in Neurosurgery" was essentially a study on surgical equipnt for brain surgery. The content...was rather hollow. Anyone with expertise would realize that even if their research led to so conclusions, it wouldn’t be of much help to the current developnt of dical technology; it would just earn them so grand but empty reputation.
For example, this type of research was very popular internationally, with major dical awards and publications favoring such works.
She lost interest after flipping through a few pages and set the docunt aside.
When Jethro Yapiter noticed the docunt she had discarded, sothing ca to mind, "Right, Miss Quinlan, do you know Professor Wafford?"
Nathalie Quinlan, now focusing on another docunt, answered without looking up, "Hmm?"
Jethro Yapiter: "I an Professor Adelle Wafford."
Adelle Wafford?
Quinlan paused while turning a page. Her expression didn’t change much, she sounded indifferent and there was a hint of defiance in her eyes, straightforward.
"I don’t know her."
She tended not to rember the nas of unimportant people. She had gone through it in her mind just now and couldn’t recall the na Adelle Wafford.
Seeing her answer so decisively and getting absorbed back into her work, Jethro Yapiter was montarily stunned and mumbled to himself, "I thought you knew each other. When I ca down, I saw you talking with her outside..."
The first docunt Nathalie Quinlan had been looking at was indeed a project submitted by Adelle Wafford’s team to their company.
Frankly, funding these scientific research projects was costly, with low return rates and a high chance of failure. Even if they did yield so results, it wouldn’t be directly related to them.
Many companies were reluctant to engage in such thankless tasks.
It was only Miss Quinlan who had been supporting dostic research over the years.
Yearly, supporting these research projects would burn through at least ten percent of Pinecone Group’s profits, but how to put it... Jethro Yapiter looked at the girl, deeply focused on selecting projects, and pursed his lips, coming to a realization.
All that Pinecone Group had was thanks to Nathalie Quinlan. If she wanted to allocate ten percent of the profits to support dostic scientific research, he and Mr. Ingram had the sa attitude—fully on board!
Nathalie Quinlan was unaware of his inner thoughts. Hearing his words, she lifted her head casually, squinting as if she finally rembered sothing, and spoke leisurely, "Seems like that did happen."
"So, do you know her or not?" Jethro Yapiter was almost dizzy from the runaround.
"Does it matter whether I know her or not?" Nathalie Quinlan’s eyes were dark as ink, holding a hint of wildness. She was quite casual and, without waiting for Jethro Yapiter’s response, she said, "Not really. I’ve only seen her once at McKinney No. 1 Middle School, and today would be the second ti."
"We just ran into each other at the entrance and chatted for a bit."
It was just that, from the look of things, Adelle Wafford really didn’t want to see her.
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