Chapter 50 You Have Been Enlightened
Nolan caught a glimpse of Emmett’s expression as he drove. “Who’s that for? I assume that it must be for Mrs. Quaker? I’m sure she would love the color, they all do.”
Emmett cleared his throat. “You’re a mouthy one, aren’t you.” In reality, he was a little uncertain as to how he might be able to get this to her.
The other man clammed up and turned his attention back to the wheel.
This was when Emmett asked, “Have you ever given a woman a present?”
“Yeah, sure did. Had never failed to woo any girl or woman who has ever received presents from me.” Nolan said with a certain pride.
“Then why aren’t you married yet?” Emmett asked.
Nolan had not seriously pondered this question. “Marriage? Nah. It’s so much better being single. No reason to lose the forest by getting hung up on one tree.”
“Scumbag.” Emmett did not hold back on him on that.
Nolan went on nonchalantly. “You’re surprisingly old-fashioned for someone younger than myself. I guess that must have been the influence of Old Mrs. Quaker. Times have changed, Mr. Quaker. Even women out there are more easygoing than us guys.”
“Oh.” The man in the rear seat did not sound too impressed. “Do girls who did stuff before marriage usually dated many men before?”
“For sure. How would you know if the other person is a good fit if you didn’t? It would be terrible to end up throwing one’s lot in with someone who wasn’t right,” Nolan replied with some conviction.
Emmett looked outside. “Could one not divorce after that?”
“True. My dear Mr. Quaker, you have been enlightened,” Nolan quipped.
Emmett tossed the pink-colored laptop to the side and fell into silence.
He started to brood. In Nolan’s mind, it was a mystery why this younger man liked to brood so much. He imagined how bored women must be with the latter.
He reckoned that Agatha’s arranged marriage for her grandson must be a source of woe for the young fella.
In consideration of his own position as a relative, Nolan bit the bullet. “Actually, it’s pretty normal for husbands and wives to present gifts to each other. You could just straight up pass it along to her when you get home…”
“Whoever said that this is for her?” Emmett replied flatly.
“If you don’t want to lose your sense of dominance in front of her, sure. Could do it in Mashion’s office. Just tell her the company wants to gift her this so she would be able to work more efficiently on her designs.”
Emmett’s brows perked up at this suggestion. “How is it that I don’t see you having these many ideas before? If you would just direct more of your energies toward AX Group’s development, I’m sure we’ll be doing much better.”
“Oh, yeah.” He preferred to avoid the complications of office politics. Life was much easier being a follower.
Emmett eyed the laptop beside him and decided how he wanted to get it into her hands.
With his eyes closed, he recalled how she looked at him when her worn-out second-hand laptop cracked beneath his feet. How she must have hated him for destroying her most prized possession.
…..
Savannah and Maisie had the chauffeur wait outside when they arrived on the outskirts of the economic development zone.
The two of them then entered Glenn’s factory. Its three production lines were bereft of activity, with nary a soul around.
Maisie led the other woman around the back and to the warehouse. “It’s only my second trip here as I was devoted to taking care of things at home, so I haven’t really been to the factory that he managed. It was only when I visited for the first time two days ago that I’ve learned about the state of the place that had him so worried. I suppose I must have neglected him with all my attention being placed on the children.”
Savannah was able to empathize. “It’s not easy to be a full-time housewife. Taking care of children is by no means an easy job in itself. How old are yours?”
“You got that right. Have you any of your own?”
Savannah shook her head immediately. “Not yet.” The mention of children had her aching for little Freddie.
“We have two. One’s twelve and the younger one’s three.” Maisie brightened up as she must have thought of how adorable her children were.
Even without seeing the stock, Savannah was already determined to find a way to help her distribute them in the hope that the woman’s family might be able to recoup some funds even if the factory were to fold.
“It must be really stressful to raise two kids.”
Maisie cast a bitter smile at her. “It’s right up ahead.”
Savannah approached to give the woman a hand as it seemed the latter was not too familiar with the operation of the warehouse’s door.
When the lights came on, she saw rows upon rows of mobile racks lined with clothing of various makes, backed by countless stacks of large cardboard boxes, which she assumed to be the unsold stock.
She walked up to the racks to browse through the pieces on display and found a thin veil of dust nestled upon them and between her fingers.
As she picked up one of them to have a closer look, something got her thinking. “These are the latest designs released by international labels this year and affixed with their tags as well. Is your factory authorized to supply them?”
Maisie smiled awkwardly by the side. “That, I’m not too sure. I’ve been kept busy enough by the kids to pay too much attention to these brand goods.”
“Oh, I see.” That made certain sense at first, but as Savannah saw more of the rest of the sample products that featured different major labels within the same facility. That roused her suspicion.
What exactly was Glenn’s factory producing all this time?
She then recalled the tongue-lashing Agatha gave Clara the other day about the inside job she pulled, privately profiteering from manufacturing counterfeit goods to market under Mashion’s brand to cater to lower-end consumers.
“This isn’t right, Maisie. Your husband had been producing these fake branded apparel all this while…” As she looked up toward the other woman, she found herself surrounded by a few individuals donning the factory’s worker uniform.
“Looks like you are quite informed. Not some simple trophy wife, are you,” Maisie said with a chuckle.
The alarms went off in Savannah’s head. “What’s this? What do you want?”
