"Don't worry about it. We're just grateful that you're willing to help."
"Alright, I'll get back to work then."
Yvonne Sloan nodded, her eyes curving into a smile. But the moment she turned away, the smile vanished from her face completely.
Inside the dressing room, Zachary Redgrave sat lazily before the vanity, his long legs casually crossed.
Laura Lowell glanced at the miserable-looking agent beside her and asked, "What's wrong? Is he putting you through the wringer again?"
The agent let out a helpless, resigned sigh. "No, I'm perfectly fine."
'With His Lordship sitting right there, how could I dare say I wasn't?'
Ever since the young assistant who made a pass at Zachary Redgrave was fired yesterday, he, the agent, had been reduced to an errand boy.
Buying coffee, ordering takeout, even taking clothes to the dry cleaner's—he had to do it all himself.
He'd posted a job ad for an assistant last night, but so far, not a single person had applied.
'How tragic.'
