Chapter 195 He's Doing It on Purpose
Matthew Watson definitely wasn't going to let Zachary Bailey treat him. Given their current relationship that was like archenemies, he feared a mere graze could turn into a hospital trip after Zach's treatment.
But Zachary Bailey also wouldn't allow Winona Sullivan to dress Matthew's wounds.
Both men harbored a dark gleam in their eyes, yet they sat there, dignified and elegant.
Winona Sullivan feigned ignorance to the palpable tension in the room. After finishing her meal and helping Nova Watson clear the dishes, she excused herself, "Aunt Nova, I've got work this afternoon. I better head out."
She was currently tied up with post-conservation work since her job at the museum kept her busy. Her objective was to complete the restoration of all the artifacts she had been working on.
"Working on the weekend too? That's dedication," Nova remarked.
Winona did not explain.
Zachary Bailey stood up, "I'll walk you out."
He had come to see Winona in the first place; with her departure, he had no further reason to stay.
Matthew Watson got up, positioning himself in Zachary's way, "Weren’t you going to help me with my medication? Let's go. Any later and my wounds will start healing on their own."
Zachary Bailey was at a loss for words.
In that brief delay, Winona had already started her car and driven away.
Zachary narrowed his eyes, "Did you do that on purpose?"
Matthew's demeanor was much more relaxed compared to Zachary's barely concealed anger, "Shouldn't I be the one asking you that? I invited Winona for a meal, and coincidentally, you showed up at my place."
"I did it on purpose," Zachary admitted without any reservation.
Matthew chuckled lightly, "How many times do you think you can stop us? She is now the facade designer for the city project. As the project manager, I'll be seeing her every day, talking to her, driving her home..."
"Stop making it sound like she's got some illicit affair with you. Winona has absolutely no romantic interest in you right now."
...
A week later, Winona reported to the museum. Her colleagues at View Studio threw her a lavish farewell party. Alex spent the whole night in a funk, getting so drunk he couldn’t tell anything apart, and before he was taken home, he grabbed Winona's arm, insisting he joins her and learn from her, until Mr. Baker smacked some sense into him.
Caleb Phillips personally escorted her to the workspace, introducing her to the team, "From now on, you'll be responsible for the restoration of Class A artifacts."
The museum categorized the damaged artifacts into three levels of difficulty—A, B, and C—with A being the most technically challenging and most likely to bring fame. Since the museum's inception, only a select five experienced and seasoned experts had ever worked on Class A artifacts.
Standing among them, Winona was distinctly out of place.
"Curator," someone grumbled, "Isn't this a bit hasty? Just because of a few lines in the news, true or false, you're assigning her to handle Class A artifacts, which are irreplaceable treasures. We don't even know if she was the one who restored that beauty's portrait. If the reporters have exaggerated and the restoration fails, the loss would be immeasurable."
The speaker was a man in his forties named Daniel Ross who'd been with the museum since graduating from college. It had taken him years to barely make it to a Class B level, but he felt fully capable of handling Class A objects. However, Caleb Phillips had always held him back, never promoting him.
And now, seemingly out of nowhere, a green young woman lands straight into a Class A position.
It was hard for him to swallow.
In their line of work, experience was accumulated over time. Anyone could follow a painting guide without exceptional talent. What made this young woman in her twenties more capable than him, a veteran of more than twenty years?
Caleb Phillips asked, "So what do you propose we do?"
"The proper way is to follow our museum's procedure, assessing newcomers at Class C level."
"So confident, are you? How about I hand over my job as curator to you as well?"
Caleb Phillips' words were powerful enough to silence Daniel Ross, yet he cast a bitter glance at Winona Sullivan.
Winona Sullivan never sought the spotlight, or else she wouldn't have kept such a low profile all these years. But she also disliked the scornful gaze of someone who didn't respect her daily, "Caleb Phillips, since this gentleman doubts my professional abilities, let's have a competition."
She hoped that his doubt was genuinely about her skill level and not just nitpicking for the sake of it.
After considering it, Caleb Phillips agreed and had an authentic painting brought in, "Daniel Ross excels in painting restoration and so does Windy—let's restore a painting."
Doubt crept into Daniel's voice, "Don't we have replicas for the assessment?"
Caleb retorted, "Weren't you confident in your skills? Let's work on the authentic piece directly."
Of course, he presented a painting so severely damaged it was considered beyond restoration. If it could be salvaged, it would be a great find; if not, no harm done.
"I'm confident in myself, but I'm concerned that the lady's inexperience might damage the piece."
With the repeated provocations, even somebody as patient as Winona Sullivan felt her temper flare. She was puzzled by his unabashed hostility, "Don't worry, unless you burn it to ashes, I can undo any damage you might cause."
Between clenched teeth, Daniel Ross replied, "Don't get ahead of yourself; mind you don't twist your tongue in your boastful wind."
When Daniel Ross pulled out the painting, he was dumbfounded. "What the hell is this?" he thought. The flowers were so blurred not even reading glasses would help.
Winona Sullivan studied the artwork intently, then began her restoration, fixing just a small part since it was a contest.
By the time she'd done most of it, Daniel Ross still looked utterly confused.
Caleb Phillips declared, "Alright, it's settled, folks. Those of you harboring hard feelings, holding a grudge, time to let it go or just keep it to yourselves."
He glanced pointedly at a visibly disgruntled Daniel Ross while saying this.
The others had been eager for a spectacle, most skeptical of what they'd seen in the news, but now their gazes toward Winona Sullivan had taken on a new respect. She was a force to be reckoned with.
In his office, Caleb Phillips handed Winona Sullivan an embossed invitation. "Attend this gala for me. I'm not into these shindigs, but you young folks enjoy them. Meet some people, why don't you?"
Winona wasn't keen on socializing either, but she accepted the invitation from Caleb.
The event was for that evening at a platinum five-star hotel. Caleb probably couldn't dodge it himself, hence palming it off to her, because at the venue, Winona spotted quite a few high-profile individuals.
‘Not my unlucky day, running into Zachary Bailey again, right?’ she thought, just before almost bumping into someone—strictly speaking, the other almost ran into her.
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