With a grave expression, the coordinator pressed, âEvidence is required, Mr.
Morgan.
What makes you assert such a claim?â
âThis lady is not the real Rose!â Ballard accused, pointing directly at Rosalynn.
âBack at another bid conference, she denied being Rose.
Now, all of a sudden, she claims she is! My suspicion is she colluded with a judge to secure the project! After all, expanding the Skrix Museum is a major venture.
How else could a mere intern like her wield such influence without invoking the name âRoseâ?â
The coordinatorâs brow creased in concern.
âYouâve implicated the judges, Mr.
Morgan.
To whom are you referring?â
Ballard shot a covert glance at Gail and and signaled his assistant with a look.
Understanding the cue, the assistant projected images onto the screen.
âBehold what I stumbled upon over dinner,â Ballard announced.
Images flickered into view, revealing Rosalynn and Gail dining together, and subsequent photos showed Rosalynn escorting Gail to a room following an allergic episode.
The crowdâs whispers swelled into a clamor.
Their eyes darted between Rosalynn and Gail.
Rosalynn bit her red lips, realization dawning that Ballard must have been monitoring her since their encounter.
Gailâs brows knitted at the sight of the photos.
âI did share a table with Ms.
Fuller, purely by chance.
And yes, I retreated to her room only due to a sudden ailment.
I have never accepted a bribe.
Money is not an object to me.
â
âYou may not be short on money, but that doesnât exclude the possibility of a bribe,â Ballard asserted, his gaze piercing Rosalynn with Loathing.
âThis woman might lack competence, yet her cunning is undeniable.
Itâs the sole reason her employer entrusted her with the studioâs bid.
â
Upon hearing Ballardâs defamatory remarks, Maggieâs temper flared.
âMr.
Morgan, refrain from besmirching Ms.
Fuller.
Sheâs Rose.
Donât her designs speak for themselves?â
Ballardâs retort was edged with derision.
âThe judges will determine the merit of the designs.
I, for one, believe our companyâs designs hold their own.
â
âBut youâ¦â
âLet me speak! Iâm not done,â Ballard interjected sharply, his eyes cutting coldly toward Rosalynn.