Mia Ginger’s face fell, and she leaned forward, shaking his arm, "Professor Jackson, you’re not that old, don’t be so rigid, your thinking is like an antique."
"Don’t know you’re prone to injury?" Koa Jackson remained firm, continuing, "Unstable work, running all over the place, you’re the one who suffers when you bump into things."
Mia Ginger rolled her eyes, "Can’t you say something nice?"
"Be good." Koa Jackson said.
"Uh," Mia Ginger looked helpless, "Then what do you suggest I wear? The shirt on top can’t be changed, isn’t it because of you?"
Koa Jackson took her directly back to the room, raised a hand and picked out another dress, "Change into this one."
Mia Ginger: "..."
Koa Jackson chose a lightweight cotton dress, artfully styled, in a forest girl vibe, slate blue, which matched the white shirt she wore, making her look more quiet and delicate, and seemingly more composed.
Alright, Mia Ginger changed into the dress.
After this back and forth, time was tight, and the two quickly had breakfast.
Heading out to work.
Mia Ginger took the keys and unlocked the door, turned back to glance at Koa Jackson who was getting ready to get into the car, suddenly saying, "Brother Jackson."
Koa Jackson pressed a hand against the car door, hesitating for a moment, "What’s up?"
Mia Ginger smiled, "Good luck with work."
Koa Jackson curled his lips, "You too." Then he turned aside and got into the car.
Mia Ginger watched him get in the car, pressed her lips together, thought for a moment, and also got into the car.
Lacking sleep for several days in a row, she was actually a bit tired, driving, playing music to clear her mind, rushing towards her workplace.
The morning rush hour was a bit congested, luckily she and Koa Jackson always left early, arriving before nine o’clock.
Just settled in and barely taking a breath when Reagon Chapman called her, "Mia Ginger, come over for a moment."
Mia Ginger was taken aback, put down her bag and walked over.
Reagon Chapman’s gaze landed on her long dress, snorted in displeasure.
She didn’t like dresses, no matter how hot summer was, she always wore trousers, and because of this, whenever she saw young girls in flowing dresses, she felt a bit annoyed, simply bothered.
Website reporters don’t need to appear on camera, editors and reporters in the office wear all sorts of things, dresses actually aren’t rare.
Especially Mia Ginger is too pretty, whatever she wears draws attention.
Reagon Chapman watched her approach, snapped out of her thoughts, face coldly said, "Yesterday afternoon I turned around and you were gone. In the future, even if you don’t want to finish work, at least notify someone beforehand, it’s polite, understand?"
Her voice wasn’t quiet, nearly two rows of people around could hear, their gaze collectively fell on Mia Ginger.
These days there are no sensational major news events, few people working overtime, only a few editors know what time Mia Ginger leaves every afternoon, but they don’t understand why Reagon Chapman is targeting her, wisely staying silent.
The more people, the more gossip, especially in the workplace, more talk leads to more mistakes.
The sympathy Mia Ginger received was scant.
Facing the gazes coming her way, she smiled slightly, using about the same volume as Reagon Chapman, "Sister Chapman, you said I could leave once I confirmed the morning’s interview theme, and I really had something last night, leaving at nearly eight, pretty late already."
Eight o’clock?
Three hours of overtime?
An intern, is it necessary?
Her words dropped, a crowd instinctively looked at Reagon Chapman, filled with doubt and oddness.
Reagon Chapman remained unfazed, seeming not to hear her talk of overtime, her tone shifted directly asking, "You mean you’ve confirmed the interview theme?"
"Yes. On Twitter, a netizen mentioned the old man taking his over ninety-year-old mother on a global tour, I found it quite interesting." Mia Ginger looked at her, tone steady, "Firstly, summer is originally a travel season, secondly, their story itself is appealing, I think if done well it can convey many things."
"Like?" Reagon Chapman raised an eyebrow.
"Life never ends, the joy of movement, how to fulfill filial duties, the meaning of travel, and more, I think we can even launch a series of positive topics called, uh, ’Walking Souls’."
"Sounds good," Reagon Chapman sneered, "Since you’ve done your homework, didn’t you notice that this mother and son aren’t from Asia? Or do you think I should provide you a translator?"