Book TRK
Chapter 1541 Are We Supposed To Be Blamed
Chapter 1541 Are We Supposed To Be Blamed
As Johanna was watching the news, Denise returned in a flurry.
She exclaimed angrily, “Quincey is way out of line. It's clear that she couldn't fit into the dress because she gained weight, yet she secretly wore it on stage and caused an accident. Why is she blaming everything on our studio? Her fans are like lunatics, constantly hurling insults on our studio's Twitter.”
Denise was so angry that her words were barely intelligible. “Johanna, you need to clarify this on Twitter immediately.” Belongs to NôvelDrama.Org - All rights reserved.
Johanna said in a gentle voice, “Quincey is an artist under Mr. Cabot's company. If something happens to her, the company would be in a state of chaos. Even if we are at fault, we can't let the public know.”
Upon hearing this, Denise's shoulders slumped. “So are we supposed to be blamed without doing anything?”
“Naturally.”
A call from Hugh arrived, and Johanna quickly answered it. “Mr. Cabot, I just saw the news. I'm truly sorry for what has happened.”
Hugh quickly said, “I know you're a responsible person. The cause of the problem is likely due to my company's artist. I called to assure you not to worry as our company will handle this.”
His courteous demeanor left Johanna stunned for several seconds. “If you need any help on your end, I'm ready to assist from my side.”
“There's no need for any help. I just hope that you won't hold a grudge because of this,” Hugh said with a smile. “Everyone is praising the styling you did for Quincey as it's very beautiful. I hope to have a long-term collaboration with your studio.”
“Absolutely,” Johanna said, exchanging a few business pleasantries with him before ending the call.
Denise asked, “Johanna, who was that?”
“It's Mr. Cabot,” Johanna said, “He's having someone handle Quincey's news. He won't let us take the fall. His surprisingly good attitude is baffling.”
She didn't know whether Genevieve saw the news and called Hugh.
The public relations team at Beluga Media acted swiftly. Within a few short hours, they managed to suppress the news about Quincey's dress malfunction. They issued a statement clarifying that this incident had nothing to do with Nightingale Studio.
Johanna thought that Beluga Media had handled the matter well, and she didn't have to worry anymore. However, around four in the afternoon, Quincey gave her a call.
“Ms. Joule, if you don't want me to make a big fuss about this, you'd better come to my apartment now,” Quincey said bluntly on the other end of the phone.
Johanna frowned and asked, “Didn't your company handle the matter already?”
“Are you playing dumb with me?” Quincey asked coldly. “I'm giving you twenty minutes. If you don't
come over, I'm calling the police!”
This call from Quincey left Johanna feeling utterly baffled.
However, she could tell Quincey was really angry. Not wanting to escalate the situation, she said, “I'm going to see Quincey. You should clock out too.”
“Why are you going to her?” Denise seemed to imagine a whole drama in her mind. “Did she blame you for the dress bursting open? Is she planning to lay a hand on you? Johanna, I'll go with you.”
Seeing that Denise insisted on accompanying her, Johanna had no choice but to take her along.
After meeting Quincey's personal assistant at Regality Gardens, Johanna headed toward the elevator and asked, “Why does Quincey want to see me?”
“Ms. Joule, perhaps you should go up first,” the assistant suggested hesitantly.
Inside the apartment, Quincey was sitting on the sofa, seemingly texting someone or scrolling through Twitter on her phone, with a rather displeased expression on her face.
“Quincey, Ms. Joule has arrived.”
Quincey's face turned a few degrees colder. She rose and walked toward Johanna, her question pressing and intimidating. “Where is my ring?”
“You think I'm responsible for losing your ring?” Johanna instantly understood what she meant.
“It must have something to do with you or your assistant!” Quincey huffed. “You were in my dressing room this morning when you came to style me, and by the afternoon, I noticed that one of my rings was missing. That ten-carat yellow diamond is worth over two million. You'd better return it to me, or I will take legal action.”