Chapter 250: The Pretend-Drunk Bill-Dodger
This was the first time they were hearing the full story. Mason Grant felt a heavy weight in his heart. He turned to look at Leah Sinclair’s profile. This was his sister.
She should have had a carefree life, but instead, for the sake of 800,000, for the grandmother who raised her, she had signed such a disgusting contract with a place like that.
After about ten minutes, Leah Sinclair finished recounting everything that had happened between her and Azure Bay. Then, she looked at the people before her and spoke in a cool voice.
"That’s the whole story. If you have any questions, ask them now. Remember, I’m only going to say this once. If you don’t ask now and I find out you’re spreading nonsense later, don’t blame me for being ruthless."
As soon as she said this, an uproar erupted from the audience. Leah Sinclair could hear all sorts of discussions breaking out.
After a little while, Doris Harlow hesitantly raised her hand. "Manager Grant, I’d like to ask... um... did you... did you and President Keating of the Keating Group meet... at Azure Bay?"
"Yes."
Leah Sinclair’s lips curved into a smile. "I’m sure the gossip you’ve all read mentioned this. My first time... yes, it was with him. To be precise, from the moment I met him until now, it has only ever been him."
The women in the audience began to gasp. ’This is... too much like a fairy tale, isn’t it?’
In situations like this, women’s capacity for empathy is often stronger than men’s. When Leah Sinclair said she had signed the contract without even reading it because of the surgery fees, their hearts had already started to ache for her.
How old was Leah Sinclair back then? Just a college graduate. To face such a huge crisis and choose not to give up on Grandma Sinclair’s treatment—that was already incredible.
Moreover, even after discovering the problem with the contract, she didn’t try to run away. She was determined to pay back whatever amount was owed.
So now, after hearing all this, they all found themselves thinking the same thing: ’Thank goodness Leah Sinclair met Asher Keating.’
In the somewhat noisy conference room, a voice suddenly piped up from some unknown corner, "Who knows if any of that is true? A place like Azure Bay... working there for over half a month and only being with one person? Is that even possible? What do you think?"
The voice wasn’t particularly loud, but Leah Sinclair’s sharp ears caught it. She looked over and saw it was someone from Department Two. The speaker was Jay Walsh, the man Miles Kessler had told her about.
The person next to him tugged on his arm, as if trying to stop him from saying more. Feeling Leah Sinclair’s gaze on him, Jay Walsh couldn’t help but shrink back a little.
Leah Sinclair sneered inwardly. ’What a coward.’ Her gaze remained fixed on him as she spoke calmly, "I hear someone claims they met me at Azure Bay before. Said I was dressed provocatively? That my legs were long? And fair? And that after my ’first time,’ I was with who-knows-how-many other men. Is that right?"
The moment she said that, everyone followed her gaze to Jay Walsh. Mason Grant shot to his feet but was pulled back down by Leah. Jay Walsh’s face instantly turned pale.
He knew Miles Kessler and the others must have told her. He really did have a dirty mouth; half of what he said on any given day was vulgar.
But he never expected Leah Sinclair to actually repeat those words in front of everyone. His entire face flushed a furious, blotchy red.
"Coincidentally, I remember you too. I didn’t recognize the name, but now that I see your face, it’s coming back to me."
"You’re the one who was going to splurge and ordered three bottles of liquor at once, but then, when you found out each bottle cost over 8,000, you chugged one and pretended to be drunk. In the end, your friend had to pay the bill... you’re the ’Fake-Drunk-and-Dash’ guy, right?"
PFFT...
"No way, he really did something like that!"
"That sounds like him. He’s always saying he’ll treat us to a meal, but someone else always ends up paying."
For a moment, the conference room was filled with all sorts of chatter. Leah Sinclair had only remembered the incident after getting a clear look at his face. The story had made the rounds at Azure Bay for a while back then; everyone who mentioned it called him that "one-of-a-kind, fake-drunk bill-ditcher."
Jay Walsh shot to his feet. "You! Don’t you spread lies! What fake-drunk bill-ditching? Do you have any proof? Don’t think you can just say whatever you want because you’re the Second Miss Grant! I can sue you for slander!"
"Whether I’m lying or not, we could easily find out by asking around at Azure Bay," Leah Sinclair said evenly. "It’s been a while, but I’m sure someone still remembers. After all, a gem like you is hard to come by."
"Impossible! You’re just making things up! You—"
"Manager Grant isn’t making things up!"
A man sitting behind Jay Walsh stood up. Leah Sinclair paused, then looked at his face and remembered. ’It’s that poor sap... What’s he doing here?’
The man’s face was red, and his voice trembled slightly. "I was the one who paid the bill. Back then, I was Jay Walsh’s apprentice. I had just joined their company, and he said he’d take me out to broaden my horizons."
"After we got to... Azure Bay, it was... Manager Grant and another lady who were drinking with us. Manager Grant even warned us that the liquor was a bit expensive and that we didn’t need to open all the bottles since there were only four of us. But Jay Walsh insisted that since he was treating, we had to open them all."
"But later, after the waiter opened them and told us the price, he... drank one bottle, said he was too drunk, and fell ’asleep.’ We couldn’t wake him up no matter what. In the end, it was Manager Grant who helped me get a discount, and I had to pay the bill with my credit card."
After speaking, he bowed to Leah Sinclair. "I’m sorry, Manager Grant. That day when Jay Walsh almost got into a fight with Miles Kessler, I was right there. I tried to tell him not to spread nonsense, but..."
"It’s all right."
Leah Sinclair gave him a small smile and motioned for him to sit down before turning her attention back to Jay Walsh. This time, her gaze was completely cold. "Jay Walsh, there’s a company rule against insulting or slandering colleagues in any form or causing them undue distress. It’s not just me, is it? You’ve told plenty of dirty jokes to female colleagues before, haven’t you?"
"Those colleagues told you not to make those kinds of jokes, but instead of listening, you became even more inappropriate. What business is it of yours if a female colleague wears a skirt? Did she use your money to buy her clothes? Based on this, I am now officially informing you that you are fired."
"No, you can’t fire me! You’re just the manager of Department Three, you—"
Shawn Grant slammed a file down on the table with a THWACK. His eyes were glacial. "She can."
Normally, Shawn Grant was always a bit of a jokester, and everyone thought he was very good-natured. They’d even joke around with him when they saw him.
But this version of Shawn Grant was the epitome of the Grant Family’s style: authoritative and proud.
The people in the conference room couldn’t help but feel a little scared.
"All right, I’ve finished saying what I have to say about my past. I won’t be speaking about it again. Also, I hope all our male colleagues will take this as a lesson. Women are not tools for you to joke about whenever you please."
"We work hard and earn our money honestly, and we are in no way inferior to our male counterparts. And to all my female colleagues: if you ever hear something that makes you uncomfortable, don’t think you should just endure it and let it pass. If you need to make a scene, make a scene."
"In serious cases, don’t wait to report it to your department head. You can report it directly to the President’s Office. I trust that the two President Grants will not shelter anyone. That is all."