My Mirror Image by Maybe Not (Candice And Alex’s)

Chapter 62

When he did not receive an answer, Hanley lifted his brows slightly and asked, Do you know Jackson?”

Regaining composure, Candice confirmed, “Yes, he’s a friend of mine.”

She extended her hands and introduced herself, “I’m Candice Renault.”

Hanley shook her hand and sat opposite her.

He quickly got to the point, “Jackson mentioned your interest in artistic planning?”

Candice nodded affirmatively, “That’s right. I’m exploring opportunities in this field.”

Hanley’s fingers were long and slender, giving him a graceful appearance. He snapped his finger to signal the waiter and asked for a pen and paper.

Swiftly jotting down a series of numbers, he slid the note across to Candice.

“Here are some upcoming exhibitions worth visiting,” he said lightheartedly.

His handwriting mirrored his character, vigorous and sharp, yet neat and beautiful.

Candice glanced at the strings of numbers and wondered, “Is this your contact number?”

“Yes, I don’t use WhatsApp often,” Hanley replied. Then he stood up, glanced at his watch, and seemed to be in a hurry.

He began by asking, “How long will you be staying in Stugan?”

Candice replied, “I’m not sure.”

“Then contact me after you’ve seen the exhibitions,” he continued, hinting that he had other obligations.

Candice also stood up, failed to notice the edge of the table, and stumbled slightly, almost losing her balance.

His firm grip provided stability as she stumbled. The air was filled with Hanley’s distinct blend of cologne and the faint smell of paint.

Regaining her balance, Candice cast an embarrassed glance at Hanley, expressing her gratitude.

“These furnishings boast a unique ethnic design; it’s easy to run into them,” Hanley commented, his voice flat as he quickly removed his hand from her shoulder.

Candice was about to reply when her phone rang.

It was Alex who coldly instructed, “Collect your stuff. We have a client meeting now.”

He then hung up without allowing her to answer.

Although Hanley was still around, Candice had to excuse herself, “The next meal is on me. Thank you for meeting me.” Belongs to (N)ôvel/Drama.Org.

Acknowledging with a nod, Hanley departed. He had scheduled this meeting with Candice primarily to dodge a troublesome client.

As Hanley exited, Candice hurriedly followed.

Alex and Nina remained in the café.

Nina was speaking to Alex and smiling coyly at him when Candice arrived.

Alex, noticing his secretary, nonchalantly questioned, “Where have you been?”

“I just grabbed a quick bite next door,” Candice answered simply.

Her eyes caught sight of Nina’s new handbag, presumably a recent purchase by Alex.

Candice was not particularly interested in bags, yet she instantly recognized it as the latest release from a high–end brand valued in the five–figure range.

Nina, noticing Candice’s observation, flaunted the bag and said, “Like it? Alex was so generous; he didn’t hesitate for a moment.”

Candice silently acknowledged Alex’s generosity. The future of their business cooperation remained uncertain, yet he had spent a considerable sum on Nina.

Unfortunately, she could not voice these thoughts. Acknowledging this quietly, she went to get the car.

The branch office mainly dealt with two significant clients–Ava and Kenelm Reeves.

Kenelm was in his mid–thirties, wearing gold–rimmed glasses, and presenting himself with the temperament of a scholar.

Candice immediately sensed that Kenelm’s scholarly demeanor masked a less approachable nature.

Nina, eager to witness Alex’s client interaction skills, came along.

Alex, seeing no conflict of interest, allowed her to remain.

Nina confidently positioned herself next to Alex, inadvertently leaving the seat beside Kenelm vacant.

Candice, holding documents, chose to stand aside, not wishing to occupy the seat.

Nina, leaning towards Alex, pointedly remarked, “Ms. Renault, it seems

improper for you to stand.”

Candice cast a brief glance at Nina, holding her ground.

Nina pressed further, “It might appear as if you’re deliberately avoiding Mr. Reeves.”

Candice calmly stated, “As Mr. Elysian’s secretary, I find it more appropriate to stand.”

Nina’s expression hardened. She was there as a secretary; it was highly unprofessional for a secretary to behave intimately with her employer in public. Kenelm’s look towards Nina subtly shifted, implying, “Mr. Elysian, you seem to be enjoying your youth to the fullest.”

Alex remained stoic, his glance toward Candice carrying a trace of iciness.

He bluntly stated, “If you prefer not to be here, feel free to leave. There’s no need for theatrics.”

His tone, as sharp as his earlier public reprimand, showed disregard for Candice’s feelings.

Feeling unjustly made a scapegoat twice in one day, Candice clenched the documents in her hand, bracing herself to respond.

Kenelm, amused by the unfolding scene, interjected, “Mr. Elysian, it’s quite a scene to see a young man like you lose your cool, especially in front of such a charming secretary.”

He commented as his gaze landed on Candice.

“You’re safe sitting next to me,” he added with a smile to Candice. “Miss Secretary, please have a seat.”

Nevertheless, Kenelm’s smile seemed insincere.

Candice had such a firm grip on the papers that the whites of her knuckles began

to show.

Overwhelmed with a wave of nausea, she set the documents down in front of Alex and exited the café briskly.

As she departed, she faintly heard Nina’s voice trailing off, “It’s nice being your secretary. She leaves whenever she pleases.”

Stepping outside, Candice found herself momentarily disoriented. It dawned on her that this was the first time in years she had displayed such dissatisfaction toward Alex.

She looked back at the café, unsure of her next move.

Her agitation at the idea of returning and facing the couple was apparent.

In the midst of her doubt, she remembered something and reached into her bag for the piece of paper Hanley had given her.

When she checked the time and realized it was mid–afternoon, she went online and learned that only one of the five exhibitions Hanley had mentioned was still open.

She bought a ticket online and hailed a cab to the venue, a brief ten–minute ride

away.

The exhibition was modest, showcasing a variety of paintings by the same artist, whom Candice had never heard of.

The exhibition’s layout, on the other hand, was intriguing. The unique layout captivated her, and the unique arrangement brilliantly enhanced the appeal of otherwise mundane paintings.

Candice stopped in front of a large portrait suspended in mid–air in the center of the exhibition, only to hear a cold, disinterested voice nearby announce, “Hi, we are about to close.”

She turned toward the voice and saw Hanley, who had parted ways with her earlier that day.