Chapter 142
I looked up, and my heart sank.
Just as I thought—they're like a bad penny.
Sarah was still holding onto George's arm as the two of them appeared at this event once again.
George maintained his usual cold, aloof demeanor that screamed "stay away," but Sarah wore a hostess-like smile of perfect composure.
Their arrival instantly drew everyone's attention, especially the media cameras.
The reporters who had been gathered around us practically spun on their heels and surged toward George and Sarah.
Cameras of all sizes immediately focused on them, with questions flying from every direction.
"Mr. Smith, what are your thoughts on the Morgan Group's participation in this aerospace project?"
"Ms. Wilson, is it true you and Mr. Smith are getting married soon?"
"Mr. Smith, could you discuss your investment strategy in cutting-edge technology?"
Even the young female reporter who had been asking me questions—who was only halfway through hearing my answer—showed clear signs of urgency and hesitation on her face. She kept looking back at George and Sarah, who were surrounded like stars, then at me, her eyes full of apology and inner conflict.
Finally, as if making up her mind, she quickly apologized to me, "Ms. Brown, I'm so sorry, but about that question on satellite orbit data preprocessing—you don't need to answer it. I have to go over there..."
She pointed toward George and Sarah, surrounded by the media mob. The meaning was crystal clear.
That's where the real story was, where the viral news could be found.
I understood her choice.
In this world, traffic and attention are everything.
George standing there was news in itself, and with Sarah by his side in such an intimate manner, it was even more newsworthy.
My name, for now, was just that of an insignificant nobody. I hadn't yet achieved anything earth-shattering enough to make the whole world take notice.
The legend of Nightingale couldn't be revealed just yet, and the Aviation Administration collaboration hadn't been officially announced to the public.
So, in the shadow of George and Sarah's spotlight, it seemed perfectly normal for a minor character like me to be overlooked and abandoned.
I even caught Sarah glancing my way while dealing with the media. Her eyes were full of undisguised smugness and showing off, as if saying, "See? No matter where we are, I'm the center of attention, and you'll always just be background scenery."
In the past, I probably would have felt embarrassed, inferior, and quietly retreated to a more hidden corner.
But not today.
Looking at the apologetic reporter eager to leave, I actually smiled, "It's okay, I understand. But since you already asked that question about optimizing multi-source data fusion algorithms for low-orbit satellites, and I happen to have some insights, why don't you let me finish answering before you go? It won't take long."
My manner was calm, my tone confident, without a trace of anger or humility at being upstaged.
The reporter froze, seemingly surprised by my reaction. She looked at the impenetrable crowd over there, then at my calm, confident face, and hesitated.
Just then, William, who had been standing beside me, spoke up at the perfect moment. His voice was gentle but carried undeniable weight, "Reporter friend, Ms. Brown is Star Tech's Chief Technology Officer and the core person in charge of our collaboration project with the Aviation Administration. The new satellite orbit risk avoidance system that the Aviation Administration is about to officially launch—its core algorithm module was optimized under Ms. Brown's leadership. Are you sure you want to pass up this exclusive opportunity to learn about the latest technical developments in the industry?"
William's words were like a stone dropped into a calm lake.
The reporter's eyes widened in disbelief as she looked at me, the dismissiveness and apology in her gaze instantly replaced by shock and curiosity.
Aviation Administration, core algorithm, Chief Technology Officer.
These keywords combined carried completely different weight.
She almost immediately pulled back her foot that had been stepping toward the other group, her expression shifting to one of seriousness and focus, "Ms. Brown, I apologize, I was blind. Please continue—about that algorithm optimization you mentioned, how exactly is it implemented? What's the efficiency improvement?"
Unhurried, I explained the technical question she'd raised earlier in clear, professional language, combining it with the practical applications of our project.
No exaggeration, but every data point, every piece of logic, was solid and credible.
The reporter nodded repeatedly, her eyes growing brighter.
She knew that while this wasn't gossip or scandal, it was substantial, weighty technical content that would be valuable exclusive material for her tech media outlet.
After I finished answering, she thanked me with satisfaction before hurrying off toward the crowd around George.
But I knew she had already committed the name Grace to memory, and my answer would become a professionally impressive footnote in her report.
William and I exchanged a smile.
After the interview segment ended, we followed the directions to take our seats in the venue.
Each seat had a corresponding nameplate.
However, when we found William's designated seat, we discovered that the spot next to him—where my nameplate with "Grace" should have been—was empty.
There was no nameplate for me on the seat.
Seeing my empty seat, William's expression darkened immediately.
He was usually calm and rarely lost his composure in front of others, but now he was clearly angry.
He walked straight up to Atticus, who was chatting with someone nearby, his tone carrying undisguised confrontation, "Mr. Morgan, what kind of arrangement is this? Not even a seat prepared? Is this how the Morgan Group treats its guests?"
Seeing William, Atticus first looked startled, then his face broke into a professional smile.
He clearly knew William and was aware of Star Tech's rising momentum in the industry.
Earlier at the entrance, seeing me on William's arm, he probably assumed I was just an assistant or date William had brought along, so when arranging seats, he hadn't considered me separately at all.
Now, seeing William so seriously demanding an explanation on my behalf, even with a protective undertone, the smile on Atticus's face faded slightly, and a flash of surprise and understanding crossed his eyes.
He immediately responded with a very courteous attitude, "Mr. Jones, you misunderstand. It must have been an oversight by the staff—they missed Ms. Brown's nameplate. My sincere apologies, I'll have it arranged right away."
As he spoke, he immediately beckoned his assistant over and gave quick, quiet instructions.
Soon, the assistant brought over a temporarily printed nameplate and respectfully placed it on the empty seat next to William, clearly printed with "Star Tech, Grace Brown."
Atticus personally accompanied William and me to our seats, apologizing repeatedly.
His gaze lingered on my face for a moment, the look in his eyes somewhat complex, carrying both scrutiny and an indescribable depth.
I could probably guess what that look meant.
Nothing more than thinking that George and I were really each doing our own thing.
George was parading around everywhere with his first love Sarah, practically writing their affection on their faces for all to see.
And I had turned around and appeared at this public event on the arm of another excellent man, equally intimate.
In Atticus's eyes—or rather, in the eyes of many people in their circle—this was probably a tacit game of mutual infidelity, an unspoken understanding between a married couple.
It's just that George was playing more brazenly, while I seemed to have found my own backup plan.