"Ms. Tanner, is there anything else that's unclear to you?" Nolan asked, his voice tinged with an edge of impatience. He tugged at his tie—a navy blue noose that seemed to tighten with each passing second. Explaining himself was not his strong suit, and Regina's probing questions only served to fray his nerves.
He was Nolan Harris, president of the Harris Group, and he hadn't given a second thought to the homeless man claiming to have lost everything because of his company's latest development project. If he had to personally address every grievance, there wouldn't be enough hours in the day.
But Regina's doubts had struck a chord.
"I'm sorry, maybe I shouldn't have called. I'm not trying to throw accusations around. I just want to understand the truth, to know why this man claims he's been left with nothing thanks to your company."
"Ms. Tanner, your integrity is admirable, but sometimes you should get your facts straight before coming at me," Nolan chided gently, recalling their first encounter when she had insisted she was in the right seat despite the mix-up.
Regina huffed, "I did not have the wrong seat that day!"
Nolan chuckled softly, a sound that felt patronizing to Regina's ears.
"I've explained multiple times. I wasn't in the wrong seat. Maybe you should be asking Dahlia if she's the one who messed up the seating arrangement," said Regina.
His tone took on a puzzled note, "Why is it that when I have my suspicions about you, you get so upset?"
Regina fell silent, struggling to find a response.
Why was she getting so worked up anyway?
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