“It’s already been three years.”
“Yeah. Take some time and really think about this. I chose you for a reason—your talent is real. Don’t let me down.”
“Mr. Connor, I’ve made up my mind. I don’t want to compete anymore.”
“You can go,” Tyler said quietly.
He could see the frustration written all over Fiona’s face.
Jean stepped out, casting Fiona a lingering look before letting out a heavy sigh. She wanted this chance, too. But sometimes, life just throws things at you that you can’t dodge.
“For the past couple of years, Jean’s been a real dark horse. Her designs are impressive, and she’s gotten here all on her own, no connections. Looks like someone’s trying to sabotage her,” Fiona said.
The international competition organizers had sent out invites, and clearly, someone was jealous. Now there was trouble brewing inside International Glam.
“Tyler, I need you to handle something for me.”
Fiona set Jean’s file down on the coffee table. Tyler instantly caught on.
“I already sent people to check out Jean’s background. We should hear back soon.”
It wasn’t only Jean. Tyler was having the other three contestants investigated, too. He’d made sure no stone was left unturned—there couldn’t be any loose ends.
Fiona rubbed her temples as a headache started to build, then leaned back on the sofa for a moment, waiting for the pain to fade. It was still early, so she pulled up the list of teams for the competition. There were six teams in total, including International Glam, but the details of who was on each team still hadn’t been released.
A knock at the door broke her train of thought.
“Mr. Connor, someone’s here to see you,” the receptionist called.
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