Bring Your A Game, Mr
Chapter 817

Chapter 817 I Am Glad You Understand

The next day at Tissote International Airport, Margaret and Edmond waited at the exit with flowers in their hands, their watchful eyes scrutinizing every female passenger.

They were here to pick up the genius pianist from Alzue who had been all the fuss as of late. Her name was Cardashian.

Edmond ran a print media company which required a steady stream of publishing of various literary works to have an income flow. The industry had been rather sluggish in recent years as it was slowly dying. They needed news shocking enough to bring the public's attention back to print media.

Cardashian was their first target. They would definitely be able to make plenty of sales if they could commission this musician, who had been certified by the World Piano Association after only two years of debut, to publish a personal autobiography.

Edmond started feeling a little anxious when he saw that fewer and fewer people were coming out. "Did you get the wrong flight? I have held this sign for so long, but I haven't seen a Cardashian looking this way."

"Do you think I am someone like you who would even make such silly mistakes?" Margaret looked at him in disdain. "There must have been a delay or something. Let's wait for a little longer. And raise your sign a little higher!"

Despite saying that, she felt discouraged as well. Can it be that I have indeed got the wrong information?

Thinking of this, she couldn't help but take a few steps forward and crane her neck in an attempt to look inside. Margaret would be embarrassed if Cardashian didn't make an appearance.

However, her reality was that she didn't see Cardashian-she had gotten 'Anastasia White' instead.

Indeed, it was the 'Anastasia White' who had seemingly disappeared from the surface of Earth after leaving with Danilo.

It had been seven years since Margaret had last seen her and yet, the woman still looked like she was in her best condition. Not only was her skin as smooth as silk and her aura as elegant as a swan, she now even had a hint of sensualness only a mature woman would have.

Most importantly, there was a miniature version of 'Anastasia White' next to her, her every move innocent and lovely.

Before Margaret could react, 'Anastasia White' was already pushing her luggage and walking toward her with the child. "Margaret!" Elise called out affectionately. "Did you come just to pick me up?"

As soon as Margaret came back to her senses, she immediately composed the look on her face to greet Elise. "I would have said no to all my work to come pick you up if I had known that you were coming back today. But what a coincidence this is for everything good to happen within the same day. I really am not here to pick you up. We are waiting for a client."

The corners of Elise's mouth curled into a knowing smile as she raised an eyebrow and looked at Edmond, who was behind Margaret. "Who is this client to be able to alarm both you and President Northton?" she murmured.

Margaret could tell immediately that Elise was mocking her for getting too close to the scumbag of a man.

Margaret quickly switched the topic by reaching toward Alexia to tease the little girl. "This is your daughter, isn't she? She is an exact copy of you. What a pretty girl!"

For some reason, Alexia hated how Margaret acted like she was close to her. Hence, Alexia deliberately evaded Margaret's touch when the woman was about to reach her.

Margaret only took it as if she was playing with herself as she let out a small laugh and pulled 'Anastasia' to the side.

"You know that I am in the print media industry. Edmond has his connections in the industry. I had no other choice but to get close to him. But don't worry, my bestie! My heart will always be on your side!" Margaret whispered her declaration. Elise only nodded lightly with an understanding look on her face. "I understand. It is never easy for adults."

"I am glad you understand." Margaret put her hand on her friend's shoulder and said earnestly, "After all, you will be more assured to have me as your gatekeeper if you want to publish something in the future, yeah?"

"Thank you." Elise forced a smile. "Alright, then. I will be out of your hair."

"Okay. I will organize a meal to celebrate your return some time. You should take the child back to the hotel to overcome the jet lag after such a long flight," Margaret suggested thoughtfully.

Hearing that, Elise smiled and left while holding the child's hand.

It was only then that Edmond huddled close to gossip. "Did she really have a child with that toy boy?"

"Is this what you should be paying attention to now?" Margaret peered at him from the corner of her eyes. "Whose attention are you trying to catch by hiding that sign? Don't you know who is going to suffer a loss if you lose Cardashian?"

Edmond was upset from being scolded the whole morning, and even though he had obediently raised the sign again, he kept complaining, "It's just because you are so not romantic that no man dares to pursue you. You should really fix this. You aren't womanly at all if you keep that straight face all day long." Margaret's expression darkened when she heard his words. "Who do you think made it possible for you to enjoy those supposedly-romantic women? You should be praying to God for me to not kick you aside. Otherwise, all that is waiting for you is bankruptcy!" Edmond was displeased about being under the control of a woman, but he could only shut his mouth and stop arguing with Margaret because her work ability was indeed impeccable.

The duo continued to wait until all the passengers on the last international flight left through the exit, but still they didn't see Cardashian. They finally went straight to Sierra Hotel, where they got ready to catch her at the hotel.

Margaret walked to the front desk, and she lightly tapped the table with her fingertips. "Excuse me, please help me call Miss Cardashian from 1203 and tell her that Margaret Ainsley from the publishing house wants to see her."

"Please wait a moment." After the receptionist at the front desk fiddled around on the computer, he smiled and gave a small bow. "I apologize, miss. The customer staying at 1203 does not go by the name 'Cardashian'. You must be mistaken." "How is that possible? Please look up the name again. She just checked in today."

Having embarrassed herself at the airport, Margaret proceeded to carefully check Cardashian's itinerary on her way back from the airport that the artist herself had posted. It was an official announcement that Cardashian was in Room 1203 of Sierra Hotel. There would not be a mistake.

The receptionist checked it again, and he still gave the same polite smile. "Miss, it is as I said. There is no one by the name who checked-in today."

Margaret was instantly stunned as she tried to comprehend what was happening.

This won't do! she fumed. I will stay here until Cardashian appears no matter what!

...

At the same time, Irvin, who had woken up early, ran to the kitchen and asked the chef to clean up a small area for him to get busy in the kitchen.

He was sure that his mother was angry at him for quietly running away from home, so he was planning to coax her by personally making her her favorite ganache-filled chocolate. Ever since he had learned to cook, this was a tested method that was proven to work whenever he did something wrong.

Even though he was a little adult and would make noises from time to time, no one dared to intervene because of their boss' special order for them to take good care of Irvin.

The boy's ganache-filled hazelnut chocolate was finally completed after more than an hour.

He took off the chef's hat that didn't quite fit and went to replace a suitable plate to decorate the chocolate.

After Irvin reached the tableware disinfection cabinet, he quickly selected a ceramic container at the bottommost layer of the cabinet. Just as he was about to open the cabinet door to get it, a small and dirty hand suddenly reached out and swung around to touch the sweet potatoes piled in the corner. Irvin tilted his head curiously before he suddenly grabbed that plump hand. It was only after he took a glance at the owner of the hand under the table that he realized a four or five-year-old girl was hiding under it.