Chapter 253
Summerfield Exhibition Centre.
This was where the annual Solterra Cup Garment Design Contest took place.
Arabella parked her car in the lot outside the centre and headed for the front entrance to find Molly.
The centre was decked out with contest flags and banners, inside and out. It had the whole contest vibe going on.
There were a lot of contestants on that day, a bunch of journalists were waiting by the door, ready to snap a pic as soon as they spot a famous designer.
Molly was standing alone in a corner. As soon as she saw Arabella, she waved, “Ms. Bennett, over here!”
Arabella walked over light–footed, exuding a cool aura, “Just call me Arabella, I’m your assistant today.”
“Okay.” Molly nodded quickly. “Have you had breakfast?”
“Had it ”
“Why haven’t you bandaged your hand?” Molly saw the bruise on her right wrist and quickly rummaged through her backpack, “Let me bandage that for you, I just bought some gauze and ointment on the way.”
“No need.”
Arabella didn’t want to draw attention. There were cameras all over the contest venue on the day.
She didn’t want to be the center of attention.
Seeing that Arabella didn’t intend to bandage her hand, Molly put away the gauze, revealing her own swollen hands.
“You didn’t apply enough medicine last night.”
“Huh?” Molly didn’t expect her to notice at a glance. She quickly explained, “I almost ran out of ointment last night.”
It took her a lot of effort to squeeze some out.
“But I just bought some new ones on the way, so if your hand hurts, you can tell me.”
“Okay.”
When they entered the main hall, Molly showed her successful registration text and got two contest cards.
She was designer number 16.
Arabella was assistant number 16.
They got into the main venue smoothly with the cards.
That was Molly’s first time in a place like that, “So many people and it’s so pretty.”
Arabella glanced at the sign, “This way.”
1–to–20 are in rest area A.
At that point, there were only a few designers and assistants in area A. As soon as Molly walked in, she heard someone calling her name.
“Molly? What are you doing here?!”
Molly looked at the direction of the voice, just as unhappy, “Myra?”
“Such a big shot for a poor girl daring to come to a place like this.”
Myra, dressed in a fancy dress, walked up to Molly arrogantly, planning to pick a fight. But seeing Arabella standing next to her, she could only awkwardly lower her raised
hand.
“You’re just here to lose!” Unable to touch them, Myra could only mock, “Don’t cry when you lose!”
“Pfft, the one who’ll be crying will be you.” Molly gathered her courage and retorted, “Someone who doesn’t even understand design, how dare you participate in this
contest?”
“Me? Participate in this contest?” Myra laughed disdainfully, “Who told you I’m here to compete?”
“You’re not?” Molly looked at her, puzzled.
