Chapter 180 Matthew, I'll Think About It
It was almost time for work and Mr. Baker had arranged a team-building outing for the studio staff at the golf course. Originally planned as a hiking trip, the recent snowy weather had made the trails too hazardous, especially for order colleagues. So, it was unanimously decided to opt for the less strenuous golfing option. Those who didn't fancy playing could simply take a stroll.
Winona Sullivan had not expected to bump into Matthew Watson and Samuel Anderson here. Both men were in sportswear, apparently just off the golf course, with beads of sweat glistering on their foreheads.
"Winona, what a coincidence! Are you here to golf, too?" Matthew exclaimed upon spotting her.
"Just a company team-building thing," Winona replied, her tone natural.
Noticing her fresh appearance, suggesting she had just arrived, Matthew gestured toward the course with a lift of his chin, "Care for a round?"
Despite the friendly offer, Winona wasn't particularly fond of golf and politely declined with a shake of her head.
Meanwhile, Samuel wiped the sweat from his brow with a towel. "I've got to run, headed to Julia's place today."
As he mentioned Julia's home, Winona recalled the mountaintop where Zachary claimed the fireworks were Samuel’s idea to woo a woman – he had just been testing their effect.
Dreading another such incident, she called out to stop Samuel, “Wait, Mr. Anderson."
He nodded toward her, "Yes, what is it?"
“Women react differently to courtship. What appeals me may not necessarily work for Julia. So, the next time you've got a scheme, try it out on the person it’s meant for."
Samuel Anderson was a brilliant man. Although Zachary Bailey's past attempt to woo him was relatively obscure and wasn't brought up again, piecing together what Winona Sullivan said today, he could deduce the whole story with little effort.
He raised an eyebrow, a slight curve forming on his lips, "If I may ask, what exactly did Zachary do in his attempt to win you over last time?"
Despite not seeing Zachary Bailey's actions as an attempt at courtship, Winona Sullivan had no desire to delve into details. She was more concerned about nipping Samuel Anderson's future matchmaking attempts in the bud, "Fireworks."
Samuel Anderson chuckled, showing no mercy in teasing his lifelong friend, "Sorry, I can't endorse such an outdated way to wooing a woman, Miss Sullivan. Considering the history between you two, maybe a brain scan for him isn’t such a bad idea. If it's serious, it might be too late to treat."
Winona Sullivan remained silent, her expression inscrutable.
It seemed Samuel Anderson was pressed for time. After nodding in her direction, he turned and walked away briskly.
Matthew Watson chuckled softly, "Winona, you don't know Julia, you don't get her. If Samuel tried fireworks with her, she'd probably get angry and walk away."
She had been skeptical, seeing Zachary Bailey as too principled to lie. But with Matthew Watson asserting such a claim, she found herself compelled to believe.
Glancing at his watch, no longer the one Zachary Bailey had given him, Matthew asked, "Dinner tonight?"
Winona Sullivan declined, "No need, there's a team-building event planned by the company."
Knowing Matthew Watson's intentions and having no interest in a relationship, she preferred to avoid further misunderstandings by limiting their interactions.
Matthew nodded, not pressing the issue, "Looks like your coworker is looking for you. You should go."
The team-building activities had wrapped up in the afternoon. The group, usually confined to office toil, was so exhausted they wished they could just collapse on the spot. Despite Mr. Baker’s hope to share dinner before dispersing, everyone was eager to return to their beds.
Winona Sullivan's car was parked away from the others. She said her goodbyes and turned to leave. However, to her surprise, there was Matthew Watson again.
Having changed into his usual attire: a dark grey overcoat, a crisp white shirt, and black slacks—a picture of quiet elegance as if sculpted from smooth jade.
Approaching her, he said, “Actually, I wanted to discuss something with you, and it seems like we have the perfect moment. How about we grab a bite together?”
“What’s it about?” she asked, surprised to see him again after he seemed ready to take off with Samuel Anderson earlier that day.
She couldn't fathom any pressing matter with Matthew Watson that warranted such a delay and had to be addressed today.
“Cross-Town,” he said.
Winona Sullivan was puzzled.
She’d heard it was a fabricated landmark project—a sprawling development mirroring architectural styles from the British Victorian era up through various eras to the present day. The construction hadn’t begun, yet the land had been secured, and the advertising campaign was already in full swing.
But she didn't see how this related to her.
“That’s a Watson family venture, and I’m currently in charge of it,” Matthew Watson explained. “I want you on board as the designer for this project.”
“I’m not an architect. You need someone with the right expertise for that role. What happens if the proportions aren’t right and the whole thing collapses?” she protested.
“We’ll have professional architects handling the structural aspects. You'd just be responsible for the aesthetics and interior design. As you know, this project spans multiple eras—a jack-of-all-trades might know a little about each, but that’s insufficient. Hiring too many experts will cause clashes and delays,” Matthew explained, pausing for emphasis. “Ideally, we are aiming open by next October, so we need to streamline the initial design phase as much as possible.”
It took a moment for Winona Sullivan to process that Matthew Watson was making a business proposition. “Sorry, I still have a few months committed to View Studio. I likely won’t have the time or energy.”
“Winona, please think about it,” he urged. “You won’t be stuck behind a desk, and we can schedule meetings and discussions around your schedule. Finish the design, and you’ll earn a twenty-million-dollar fee. If the project scope expands, we’ll compensate you even more.”
Winona found herself wavering. Deep in debt to over two hundred million, with future housing and everyday expenses looming, she was in dire need of cash.
“This sum can be advanced to you; that’s a personal promise from me,” said Matthew, his tone sincere, though tinged with a hint of strategy.
He was honest in his tactics—somewhat underhanded as they were. Aware of Winona Sullivan’s financial struggles, he presented the advance as safety net, a tempting incentive tailored to her situation..
Unsure, Winona replied, “Matthew, let me mull it over.”
"Alright, call me once you've decided, and I'll have the lawyer prepare the contract."
Matthew Watson sensed that Winona Sullivan wasn't keen on dining with him, so he dropped the subject and left after bidding her goodbye.
Instead of returning to her apartment, Winona headed to Rebecca Davis’ place. Despite the holiday season’s communal spirit, she and Rebecca, once inseparable, had yet to meet.
Pouring herself a glass of wine, Winona said, "Ran into a job offer today. I'm still deciding whether to take it or not."
"How much are they offering? If it's too little, forget about it."
Rebecca knew Winona was strapped for cash, juggling work at View Studio during the day and freelance gigs at nights. Adding another job to the mix seem daunting.
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