To Color Your Life - Chapter 81

Pharaoh’s restaurant was the place where Emily was ready to go to even every single day. Spacious halls stylized for different historical eras. A varied menu that included dishes that were popular not only in modern times but also several centuries ago.

Every week, themed evenings were held here, where during dinner, guests could listen to a lecture on the history of a particular dish. At the masterclasses, one could learn how to make rice buns from the Ming dynasty or set the table, as was customary under King Louis IX.

Any chef considered it an honor to speak to a respected audience and show off his signature dish.

And for any visitor, it was an opportunity to plunge into history, as if you yourself were in that time.

The Aztec Hall was no exception. The hall waiters could easily pass for the extras of an American Indian movie. And their outfits left room for imagination, both women and men.

“Hey, Berkens, what do you think about that hot Pocahontas? She has been casting glances in your direction for half an hour already. Maybe at least you will smile at her?” Catherine nudged the editor-in-chief, who was focused on food.

Joyce was already drunk enough, her defensive reflexes weakened. And if on ordinary days she preferred to avoid Gregor, for fear of getting spoiled, now she has set herself the task of getting to the editor in any way.

“What about that lovely priestess over there? This girl is from another department, so you don’t have to worry about business ethics,” she threw her hand on the man’s shoulder and almost hung on him, “I don’t understand how you can be so calm when there are so many hot beauties around!”

“Miss Joyce, your chest is blocking my plate. Could you unclench from me and cling to someone else?” Gregor turned his head to Catherine and gave her the smile she had been waiting for.

The effect was predictable. Joyce instantly sobered up and recoiled from the man, as if burned on a hot iron, “My God, Barkens! I hope you didn’t curse me just now?” genuine horror was reflected on her face.

“I will need a skull to perform such a thing. And this skull is somewhere in my office. Should I go there and get it?” the man asked in a casual tone.

Catherine turned white even more, “I think it’s not worth it. I’ll go get some air. It somehow got stuffy here.” The girl got out from behind the table and walked edgeways around it, trying not to turn her back on the editor-in-chief. Gregor followed her with an indifferent gaze and returned to his meal.

“Hey Greg, have you really developed a sense of humor in three years?” Justin, who was sitting opposite, chuckled.

Their party started three hours ago, with most of the staff already gone home. In a cozy corner of the hall, at a spacious table surrounded by soft sofas, there were only Justin and Emily, and Catherine with Barkens. A translucent canopy separated them from the rest of the tables.

“I’ve always had the sense of humor. It’s just that not everyone understands it,” the man shrugged and continued to eat his steak as if nothing had happened.

Emily was watching what was happening there with a smile. Wine has long since spilled over her body in sweet bliss, and she relaxed in the arms of her boss, resting her head on his shoulder.

A short black wig was kind of tickling her cheeks, but she even liked it. She enjoyed everything that was happening here and she liked everyone with whom she was chatting at that moment.

“Have you thought about my proposal?” Justin asked Barkens.

“Boss, I don’t mind trying, but will the board approve of my candidacy? Who am I and where is this Denver?” Gregor leaned back on the couch, his fingers knocking out a rhythm on the table to match the rhythm of the music playing in the hall.

“Do you want Gregor to be in charge instead of you?” Emily guessed. Justin nodded.

Basically, this was a good idea. Barkens was in the magazine from the very beginning, he knew all the processes inside out, was a calm and reasonable leader. Even frightening, in a way.

“Gregor and Catherine are on the board of the magazine. They each have a small stake in the Pharaoh, so they have the right to vote and the right to participate in the appointment,” the boss explained.

“But these shares aren’t enough to cover Denver’s stake, Justin. And he has other plans for our part of the building.” The editor-in-chief did not have much hope for his own account. In the ocean where sharks swim, the little fish is of no interest to anyone.

“We don’t need it. The magazine will go to Christian anyway, it was clear from the very beginning. Chris has neither the time nor the desire to run it. It will be easier for him to disband the staff and release the employees.” Evans frowned, the thought of handing the Pharaoh over to Denver did not please him at all.

“But he can’t do anything if the board of shareholders decides to keep the department. And you, as the new manager, will suit them totally. I am sure about that.”

“Gregor, you’re a great leader,” Emily supported the boss’s words. “If you become the head of the department instead of Justin, I will even consider staying here.”

The men looked at the girl in surprise.

Emily lowered her eyes in embarrassment, “Tonight I received so much support and heard so many warm words that I can’t imagine how I will now work without all of you. I like what I am doing now. Although I’m not sure I’m ready to do this all my life. But I can try.”

At first, she wanted to leave the Pharaoh in order to find her own way. But how can you refuse a place where you feel so good? She liked working in the department, but she liked people more. If she stayed, it would only be for them.

And what do they have to do with it? Why do YOU need it? What do you want yourself? Suddenly, the words of Christian Denver floated into her head.

This man, with just one glance, penetrated into the darkened corners of her soul, in a few phrases he managed to highlight such places that she would not have thought to look at.

What do you want, Hayes? What is it for what you can put everything that you have on the line, even knowing that you can lose?

The answer to the question was already spinning on the tongue. The very thought, constant, elusive and formless, began to manifest itself in the form of a blurred image.

It remains only to grab onto it and…

“People, what are you doing? I asked you not to start anything without me!” a loud melodic voice pulled Emily out of the cycle of thoughts and returned her to the hall.

She looked up and saw fiery red hair and the same bewitching smile.

“The witch mommy is back. How about having a sabbath?” The girl winked at Hayes.

Emily beamed and exclaimed happily, “Kelly!”