Chapter 92: Chapter 92: Buying Toys
A moment later,
Jacobs brought over seven or eight finished winter fashion pieces.
Ivana Monroe examined each one carefully. She was quite satisfied with three of them, thought two were just passable—not too bad overall. She kept the three she was happy with and handed the two mediocre ones back to Jacobs. "Have the designers refine these two pieces. If they pass, I’ll take nine pieces to the winter runway show next month."
"Nine pieces?" Jacobs was taken aback.
Even if those two passed, there were only five pieces in total. Where would the nine come from?
Could it be...works designed by Ivana?
"Yeah, nine. I’ll add a few more," she said. She’d completed some winter outfit designs in spring, anticipating returning home, so she hadn’t showcased those in this year’s Olaris Fashion Show.
Now was the perfect moment to bring them out.
Ivana’s words matched what Jacobs had guessed. He felt a rush of excitement and looked forward to seeing Ivana’s designs hit the fashion runway.
Jacobs called Mrs. Joyner, who arrogantly scolded him over the phone. Then they set a meeting time for 2:30 PM, demanding Jacobs personally drive over to pick her up. Only then would she come to GK to receive tenfold compensation.
Jacobs relayed the conversation to Ivana.
Ivana smirked. This Mrs. Joyner sure was adamant about that tenfold compensation!
But Mrs. Joyner would be disappointed; Ivana wouldn’t accede to her unreasonable demands.
Through the morning, Ivana was busy. Occasionally, she glanced at "Timmy Monroe." Seeing him quietly sitting on the office sofa, a handsome, cool, but bored little face.
It then occurred to Ivana that she should’ve brought some toys in the morning for him to play with in the office.
Come lunchtime,
Ivana took the opportunity to bring the little boy to a nearby toy store, speaking gently to him, "Timmy, go pick two toys you like."
Ian Keane frowned. "I’m not that bored to play with these childish kids’ toys."
The saleswoman, captivated by Ian’s handsome little face, approached, intending to recommend a few popular toys. Hearing the boy’s words, the saleswoman found it amusing, chuckling softly.
"Hey, little friend, you’re a kid too! Not interested in these toys?"
Ian pursed his pink lips, ignoring the saleswoman.
"Timmy, the salesperson is talking to you!" Seeing this, Ivana squatted in front of Ian, her eyes gently meeting his, she held his little hands encouragingly, as if urging him to respond to the saleswoman’s words.
"It’s okay! Little kids at his age are still shy around strangers," the saleswoman said with a smile, siding with Ian. The boy was so good-looking, with such a cool little demeanor, she couldn’t bear to disrupt it, and feared Ivana might scold him.
She would feel sorry if that happened.
The saleswoman turned and brought back two toys. These toys were different from the rest. Inside the boxes were individual wooden parts.
Smiling, the saleswoman, much like Ivana, squatted in front of Ian and said, "This is called a Luban lock. Legend has it that in the Spring and Autumn period, a craftsman from Lu named Luban made this toy using six wooden sticks to test his son’s intelligence, asking him to solve it."
"Luban’s son worked all night and finally solved it. You look like a smart child. Compared to Luban’s son, do you think you could solve it faster?"
Ian looked at the Luban lock the saleswoman held but did not answer her. Instead, he said to Ivana, "I want this toy."
Ivana was slightly taken aback and a bit puzzled. Last year, Stacy already bought a Luban lock for Timmy. Timmy, very bright, had solved thirty-six Luban locks in two days on his own.
But this little boy before her seemed as if he had never played with a Luban lock before. His bright eyes shone with interest in it.
The saleswoman, delighted, set the Luban lock aside and brought out the second toy for Ian to see.
"This is a 3D Eiffel Tower papercraft puzzle with a total of eighty-four pieces. Are you interested in taking it home to give it a try?"
"Mommy, I want this one too," Ian continued to ignore the saleswoman, looking up at Ivana.
"Alright."
Ivana stood up, apologizing with her eyes to the saleswoman for "Timmy’s" impoliteness.
"I’m sorry. Where can I pay?"
"Oh, it’s no trouble at all. I’ll take you to the checkout."
After paying, the saleswoman gave Ivana a little box of Tic-Tac-Toe. It’s a great parent-child game, perfect for Ivana and Ian to play at home.
"Thank you," Ivana thanked her, very impressed with the saleswoman.
"You’re welcome."
The saleswoman smiled warmly, watching Ivana and Ian leave. Her hands clasped over her heart, she hoped that polite and pretty mommy would return to her store with the handsome son to buy more toys.
~~
At 2:30 PM, Jacobs picked up Mrs. Joyner and brought her to the company.
Mrs. Joyner barged into Ivana’s office without knocking, her heels clicking loudly on the floor as she entered.
"Get me a glass of plain water. It’s so hot, yet here I am making a second trip? Only I have such a good temper. If it were anyone else—hmpf~ who would let you push them around like this? They would’ve put such unscrupulous businesses on the nightly news by now."
Mrs. Joyner spoke as though addressing Ivana and expected Ivana to fetch water for her.
Swinging her hips, she sat on the guest sofa like she was Ivana’s boss, noticing a little boy with his head down, playing with wooden toys.
She looked at him with disdain.
Her son was a bit older than Ian Keane, and at home, they had a collection of imported toys—a full set of Transformers, remote control cars, toy planes. Only poor kids played with cheap wooden toys.
"Ivana, let me get Mrs. Joyner a glass of water!" Jacobs followed Mrs. Joyner in and, seeing Ivana just about to rise from her manager’s seat to fetch water, rushed to do it himself.
Jacobs handed the purified water to Mrs. Joyner, only to be met with a cold sneer.
"Aren’t you a little brown-noser. You’ll go far sucking up to your bosses like that!"
Jacobs’ expression darkened, "You’re too kind, Mrs. Joyner. You’re our customer; serving you well is my duty."
"You sure know how to talk."
Mrs. Joyner smirked, though insincerely, in a strange tone. She took a sip of the water, only to spit it out immediately.
"What kind of water is this? It tastes worse than pee, and you’re using it to serve guests? Has GK fallen so low they can’t even afford decent water?"