Viola Harris chuckled awkwardly.
Amelia Clarke looked at her, "You and Finn Wilson, you guys..."
"I have nothing to do with him!" Viola Harris hastily denied.
"You've spent the night, alone together, do you take me for a three-year-old?" Amelia Clarke looked at her askance.
Viola Harris's face flushed, she stubbornly said, "Even if there was something physical, there's nothing emotional. I am an adult after all, and I have needs, okay?"
Amelia Clarke: "..."
After parting from Viola Harris, Amelia Clarke returned to the master bedroom. She pulled out a notebook from the drawer under the coffee table, inserted the USB drive Connie gave her, and opened it to find nearly fifty design drafts.
Connie's conversation with her that morning still echoed in her ears.
Amelia Clarke was surprised and even more incredulous that Connie had actually entrusted her with the design drafts to take home and color-correct.
