Chapter 210 Target Her
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It was Thomas. Everything in her hands was knocked out, scattering all over the ground. Her phone hit the floor, switching automatically to speaker mode.
Paul’s voice could be heard from the speaker, “There’s a meeting this afternoon to discuss the design
plan for the Drunken Moon Tower. If you can’t make it, just join the video call.”
Thomas glanced at the design drafts scattered on the ground, drafts related to the CrossTime Project, and smirked sarcastically, “Miss Everhart, you seem to be quite busy.”
Class A conservators had separate offices from Class B conservators. Calista barely moved from her desk during worktime except for restroom breaks.
If she hadn’t encountered Thomas today, she would have forgotten about this man who had given her a hard time on her very first day.
“It’s manageable. Not as busy as you.”
She had heard from colleagues that Thomas worked overtime almost daily, aiming to get promoted to
Class A
Even though A and B were just one class apart, the salary difference was vast
Thomas glared at her resentfully before turning to leave. He didn’t even bother to pick up the scattered
documents, let alone apologize.
Calista remarked as she watched him walk away, “Mr. Jefferson, you’re a respected senior in the
museum. Even if you can’t bring yourself to apologize after knocking someone’s belongings, the least you
can do is pick them up, right?”
Thomas gritted his teeth. His darkened expression made his stern demeanor even more intimidating.
He immediately reprimanded her, “How did your family raise you? Is this how you treat your seniors?”
“Sorry, I’m an orphan. So, Mr. Jefferson, why don’t you pick it up and avoid making a scene? I’m unsure who would be the laughing stock in this situation.”
Calista could pick them up herself, but with someone like Thomas, the more you give in, the more they take advantage.
Thomas retorted, “Don’t think you’re impressive just because you’re in Class A. The museum evaluates every three months. You still don’t know if you can keep this position.”
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“You should be more concerned about yourself, Mr. Jefferson. It is not easy to get to Class A. There’s no need to target me like this. Even if I were demoted, it doesn’t mean you’d replace me. There are no vacancies for being a Class A conservator. They hire based on skills.”
Calista’s words pierced him deeply. She knew exactly where to strike. If he didn’t show her respect, why
should she?
They were standing in a hallway outside the workroom, where anyone could pass by.
Thomas was very particular about his reputation. He couldn’t afford to be humiliated. He bent down, hurriedly gathered the documents, handed them to Calista, and left in a huff.
Twenty minutes later, Augustus arrived at her desk with Thomas.
The same Thomas who had previously looked like he wanted to tear Calista apart was now wearing a
smug expression. Calista had a bad feeling about this.
As expected, Augustus said, “The museum has a rule that staff cannot take on private jobs outside the museum. Mr. Jefferson had reported that you were taking on private work. To avoid any
misunderstandings, I’ll clarify now. I know Calista’s external work, but she hasn’t signed a contract with our museum. In other words, she’s just helping out. It doesn’t matter if she takes external jobs or works one day and takes three off, the museum has no right to intervene.”
Augustus said this because he knew Thomas’s intention. Thomas might cause more trouble behind the
scenes if he didn’t clarify it now. Thomas’s smug smile froze.
“Mr. Beaumont, isn’t this favoritism? Aren’t you afraid of what others might think?
“Those who have opinions can talk to me at my office.”
He glanced at Thomas, slightly annoyed, “Thomas, don’t be so obsessed. Calista being in Class A has nothing to do with whether you’ll get promoted to Class A.”
The episode was short–lived. Although others were unhappy about the outcome, no one showed it.
Everyone knew that taking private jobs meant more money, but not everyone was eligible for these jobs.
Those artifacts are precious, and only reputable experts in the field get the chance. So, while there was
envy, everyone except for Thomas could come to terms with it.
For Calista, she took it easily. She couldn’t please everyone, could she?
The CrossTime project was set to start construction officially at the end of next month.
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They usually hire experts to analyze the best date to start such a large project. With the date fixed, they
would have a shorter time to prepare.
The whole department was working overtime, including Calista.
By the time she drove home after work, it was already late. The parking spots in her apartment were
limited, so she could not get a parking spot.
She parked her car outside and was about to leave when two men approached, knocking on her window.
It was spring, and the nights were still a bit chilly. People were usually dressed in two layers of clothing. But the two men wore short–sleeved t–shirts, revealing muscular tattooed arms.
It was clear they were there for her. She noticed they had checked her license plate before approaching,
their intentions clear.
Calista locked her car doors, dialed the emergency number on her phone, and placed her finger over the
call button.
She rolled down her window just a crack and asked, “What do you want?”
The man squinted, comparing her face to a picture on his phone, “Are you Calista Everhart?”
Calista replied, “Yes.”
“Is Zachary Everhart your father?”
She was all too familiar with this line. Three years ago, when Zachary owed money to loan sharks, they
approached her with the same question.
Without hesitation, she replied, “No.”
“Heh, we thoroughly investigated your information before coming. Do you think you can deceive us? We don’t want any trouble. We’re here to inform you that Zachary has borrowed two million dollars from our company, saying his daughter would repay it.”
The man slid a business card through the crack, “This is our company’s address and phone number. The
repayment date is in a week.”
Calista’s fingers clenched tightly, her face turning grim. She began to recall years ago when she was
hounded by loan sharks.
“His daughter’s name is Nikolette Everhart. I am not related to him.”
She pulled a DNA test from the drawer and handed it over.
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“This paternity test is newly done. Find her if you want to collect the debt.”
“I don’t care whether you’re his biological daughter or not. The photo Zachary gave us is of you. We will also look for Nikolette. Judging by your car, you don’t seem like someone who can repay the two million dollars. If there’s a delay, we will ask for three million the next time we come.”
“How can he, a penniless man, repay such a huge amount? Even if your interest rates are high and don’t require collateral, on what basis did you believe he could repay that amount?”
That was what she was curious about.
