Chapter 539 Martin Makes His Entrance
Patricia paused for a moment. "A business prodigy? Who is that? Where? Someone even more capable than you?"
"Of course, he's exceptional. Aside from the boss, he's the person I admire the most. He's taught me a lot, like a mentor, really."
This was the first time Patricia had heard Alan speak so highly of someone else besides Martin.
Considering Alan's trust and high praise, Patricia was intrigued. "Are you suggesting we bring him into the company? What position would we offer someone like him? An aide like you?"
Alan hesitated, then continued, "Here's the thing. He happens to be taking a break right now, and with the mountain of issues we're facing, I had no choice but to entice him out of retirement. It took all my persuasive power to get his agreement to help us. However, he's only committed to assisting us through the current crisis. Once the company is back on track, he'll depart. He's not interested in a title, so we could consider him more of a strategic advisor. We'll just give him the money after he finishes the task."
Patricia remarked somewhat regretfully, "Such a capable person. Isn't there a way to keep him around?"
Alan replied with a chuckle. "That's the deal between him and me. Whether we can keep him in the end is up to you."
Patricia looked at Alan, puzzled. For some reason, she felt his words had an additional meaning, but she couldn't quite put her finger on them.
"Alright. When will you bring him in?"
"I'll give him a call. If all goes well, I'm hoping he can start today. Given the current situation, the sooner we handle it, the better."
With that, he took out his cell phone and dialed a number.
Patricia couldn't hear what was said on the other end but heard Alan's three affirmatives before he hung up.
"He said he'll be right over."
"Great."
Patricia nodded without giving it much thought, settled behind her desk, and began tackling the mountain of files before her.
Sifting through the dense text in the files gave her a headache.
As the irritations accumulated, her annoyance grew subconsciously, and even the sound of flipping through folders became louder.
Sensing her sour mood, Alan said nothing and joined her in handling the work.
Before long, the office phone rang.
Alan answered it first.
Since they were close by, Patricia faintly overheard the person on the line say, "Alan, there's a gentleman here who says he has an appointment with you."
Alan promptly responded, "Yes, yes, ask him to wait for me. I'll be right down."
After hanging up, he quickly briefed Patricia and hurried off.
She took it as a gesture of respect for his seniority. She didn't dwell on it, continuing to work on the evening's paperwork before picking up the next file.
It came from the Public Relations department. It was yet another trivial matter.
It was all about the extent of the impact that a recent cost-saving scandal had on the company. The PR department had received numerous complaints; although the company's stock had risen, its reputation suffered significantly, increasing the PR's workload substantially.
Patricia slammed the folder shut in frustration and tossed it aside.
These were core responsibilities of the PR department. Now, they were complaining about an excessive workload. Why hadn't she heard them claim it was too small before the issue arose? They were nothing but deadweight, content with idling away in their offices.
Patricia felt a headache echo through her skull as she propped herself up with one hand on her desk, her fingers gently massaging her temples in a futile attempt to temper her mood. Distracted, she hadn't noticed her office door swing open until Alan called out, snapping her back to the present.
One glance was all it took for her eyes to lock onto the man beside Alan, unable to look away. The resemblance he bore to Martin was uncanny.
The man was dressed plainly in a white shirt and black slacks. His fine hair hung down his forehead without gel, perhaps grown too long without a trim, concealing half of his eye. A white mask perched on his noble nose, obscuring most of his face. Of the whole face, only half an eye was visible, and even that was blurry.
They were so similar that it was eerie.
No—that wasn't entirely correct. He shared Martin's height but was much leaner; the white shirt on his frame seemed to hang loose, like a size too big.
She couldn't see his face, barely even his eyes, yet she couldn't stop herself from superimposing this stranger with Martin.
"Martin…" she whispered breathlessly.
"Mrs. Watson, he's not the boss," Alan quickly said. "His name is James."
Patricia's entire focus was on this man, James. Oblivious to Alan's words, she sprang from her seat and lunged into James' embrace, clutching him tightly. "You're alive. Thank goodness you're alive... You've finally returned..."
James' body tensed, and as he lifted his hands to push her away, they paused mid-air and then fell back to his sides, allowing her to embrace. Alan awkwardly shifted, wondering if he should excuse himself and give them space.
Patricia's eyes reddened, tears swirling as she trembled slightly. "Do you know how much I've missed you? If you were alive, why didn't you come back for me? Do you realize how heartbroken I was? I almost wished to join you."
James barely spoke before a cough racked his body. Covering his mouth, he was overtaken by a fit of coughing.
Instantly releasing him, Patricia asked in alarm, "What's wrong? Why such a violent cough? Your voice doesn't sound right, either. Are you still not well? Come on, I'll take you to the hospital." She reached for his hand and began leading him away, but James jerked away.
"I'm fine. It's just a chronic cough." he said, his tone cold.
Patricia stared at her empty hand, stunned momentarily by his cold tone, but quickly dismissed the odd feeling that stirred in her. "How can you be okay? That cough doesn't sound normal at all."
She might not be an internist, but she could tell the difference between clearing one's throat and an abnormal cough.
James stepped back and said icily, "Even if it's off, you needn't worry about it. Besides, you might have me mistaken for someone else. My name is James, not Martin."
Patricia froze as if struck by lightning. "Your name is James?"
He nodded, retreating another step. "Yes, I'm James. Alan invited me to help out. If you're going to keep acting like this, maybe I should leave."
He turned to go.
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