Chapter 70 You Actually Prepared Milk Tea
Monday mornings were for early alarms, strong coffee, and the slow grind into work mode.
Yosef sat at the sleek kitchen island, a steaming mug of coffee in hand—the blend Elizabeth had brewed for him exactly the way he liked it.
His other hand held a tablet, scrolling through the latest financial headlines. Numbers, mergers, and market trends flashed across the screen until one headline made him pause.
The Johnson Group loses a major client.
His brows lifted. Setting down his crossed legs, he leaned forward, the tablet balanced in one hand.
Stellar Industries Group had announced they would no longer contract The Johnson Group for production.
That was no minor change—it was the kind of shift that rippled through the industry.
He pressed the intercom button. "Miss Penrose, inform the heads of Sales, R&D, and all department leads to convene. We're meeting immediately."
Elizabeth, already in her office with her own morning coffee, had been scanning the same news feed. She'd caught the headline too.
"Understood," she replied without hesitation.
The reason behind Stellar Industries Group's sudden withdrawal could wait. The priority now was clear—TechStrong needed to position itself to win that contract.
Every company worth its salt would be chasing Stellar Industries Group's business. The question was: who could offer the edge?
At TechStrong headquarters, Yosef gathered his department heads around the long glass conference table.
Across town, at The Johnson Group, Armando was doing the same—but the atmosphere in each room couldn't have been more different.
One team buzzed with the energy of opportunity. The other sat under a cloud of uncertainty.
Armando's cool, sharp gaze swept the table.
"Why," he asked, voice low but edged, "did Stellar Industries Group announce—without warning—that they will no longer commission the Johnson Group's production?"
The executive responsible for Stellar Industries Group's account swallowed hard. "I'm sorry, Mr. Johnson. We received no prior indication of this. We're already in contact with Stellar to… clarify the situation."
The two companies had enjoyed a solid relationship for years. There was no obvious reason for such an abrupt break.
Armando tapped his index finger against the polished wood. "Release a public statement immediately. The Johnson Group's operations are stable. We need to calm the shareholders."
Stellar was a big client, yes—but not the only one. The loss would sting, but it wasn't fatal. Not yet.
Elizabeth's day with Yosef was consumed by back-to-back meetings. It wasn't until late afternoon that her phone buzzed with a message from Lyle.
Lyle: [Tonight at seven, "Let's Sing Together" goes live. Are you coming?]
Elizabeth took a slow sip of coffee, eyes narrowing slightly as she typed back: [Not going. I'll watch the livestream from my computer.]
Backstage at "Let's Sing Together" was a hive of activity. The stars scheduled to perform tonight were tucked away in their respective dressing rooms—especially the most popular ones, who had private spaces reserved just for them.
Sherry, backed by serious capital, had been given her own dressing room as well. Della, her assistant, had just received the list of tonight's five performing pairs—a list kept under lock and key until one hour before showtime.
"Sherry," Della said, scanning the page, "you're paired with Jenna tonight. Her voice will blend perfectly with yours."
Sherry's confidence was unshaken. "Then there's nothing to worry about."
The rules were simple: each pair performed two solos—one per artist—and then a duet. Votes came from the judges, the live audience, and fans watching remotely.
Popular stars had an obvious advantage; their fan bases could flood the polls.
But there was one twist: the Best New Artist award was reserved for lesser-known singers. Winners of that category would face off in the season finale, by which time their fan numbers would have skyrocketed.
In short—it was a launchpad to fame.
Sherry had gone all out tonight, hiring a renowned makeup team. She wore a strapless gown that fused black and crimson in a way that was both elegant and daring—a departure from her usual sweet, playful image.
Tonight, she radiated sophistication and allure.
Della's finger paused on a familiar name. "Jessa… She's here too?"
Sherry's eyes flicked to the list. "Quin Agency has at least some pull, it seems."
"What do you think she'll sing?" Della asked.
Sherry's lips curved into a knowing smile as she sent a freshly snapped selfie to Armando. "If Jessa didn't land a strong song, she won't beat me."
Her own new album had already placed two tracks in the top ten of multiple music charts.
Tonight, her solo would be "Fly High", one of those hits.
Jessa hadn't even released a single yet. How could she compete?
The show opened to roaring applause. The judges had already reviewed the lineup.
"This round has a newcomer?" one male judge remarked. "Jessa from Quin Agency. She's singing an unreleased song."
It was unusual—almost unheard of—for someone with no existing fan base to take the stage here. It took nerve.
Another judge nodded. "I'm curious to see what she can do. And Sherry from Starlight Group—she's promising. I've listened to her latest album."
They chatted briefly before the host, Otto, stepped into the spotlight.
"Good evening, everyone! Let's get straight to it." His voice lifted the energy in the room with practiced ease.
"Our first performer is Sherry, bringing us "Fly High", currently climbing charts across the country!"
The crowd erupted. Fans screamed her name as Sherry glided onto the stage, her gown catching the light. The opening bars of the song hit with electric force.
In the backseat of a car, Elizabeth watched the livestream lazily, Sherry's powerful vocals filling the small space. Timothy, mid-work, paused to fetch a chilled milk tea from the fridge.
"Drink while you listen," he said, handing it to her.
Elizabeth shot him a sidelong glance. "You stocked milk tea in the fridge?"
"For you," he replied smoothly.
He could be infuriatingly charming. Elizabeth felt a flicker of warmth, leaning in to hook an arm around his neck and press a kiss to his lips.
Joe, their driver, discreetly raised the privacy partition.
By the time they parted, Sherry's song had ended. Applause thundered through the speakers. Elizabeth's lips were still damp, her gaze softened as she sent Jessa a quick message: [Good luck.]
The judges praised Sherry's performance. "Your voice has incredible power. The arrangement and lyrics suit you perfectly."
"Thank you," Sherry said with a gracious bow before stepping offstage. She passed Jessa on her way, her smile sweet but edged. "Good luck, Jessa."
Jessa met her eyes, a calm smile on her own lips. "Thanks. I will."
Otto's voice rang out again. "Next, we welcome Jessa! She's performing an unreleased track titled "Bird". Let's give her a hand!"
The applause was noticeably thinner. In the audience, whispers rose.
"Who's Jessa? Never heard of her."
"Bird? Who wrote it? I'm not expecting much. Sherry's "Fly High" was better."
"I bet Sherry wins Best New Artist this week."
In the car, Elizabeth took another sip of milk tea, eyes fixed on the screen as Jessa stepped into the spotlight.
Timothy leaned closer, his hand finding hers. When she lowered the cup, he stole a sip himself, the corner of his mouth curling into a quiet smile.