The agent, sporting a short, fierce-looking hairstyle, had one hand in her pocket, appearing much more composed than the distressed Cecily Cronin.
She picked up the pillow on the floor, dusted it off, and put it back on the sofa.
Heading to the kitchen, she poured a glass of cold water, "Now, call Assistant Director Cooper and see if there's still room for a change."
Cecily took a sip of the water to moisten her dry throat, exhaled a heavy breath, and searched her phone contacts for the assistant director's number.
"Beep, beep, beep —"
"Hello, the phone you're trying to reach is switched off..."
The phone's system emitted a cool, matter-of-fact tone, and after trying several times, she angrily hung up.
Angrily, Cecily stood up and kicked the coffee table in front of her, spewing out harsh words in her rage.
"Damn it!"
"That lecherous old man took advantage of me, but now he's avoiding me, thinking the situation is too difficult to handle?"
