Reject My Alpha President (Iris and Arthur) novel Chapter 120

Chapter 120

Iris & Arthur

Iris

My emotions are at war this morning. Every time I think about Arthur ending his contract with Selina, my heart does a little flip. But then I remember the hesitation on his face when I asked about being his public wife, and that same heart crashes back down into my stomach.

It seems I’m still not good enough to be seen with him in public. Still just the human hidden away.

I need a distraction, so I pull out my laptop and polish my presentation, which I’ll be presenting later today.

But as I work on my slideshow, I can’t help but recall Hunter’s offer from last night. I’ve been mulling it over all night, and after everything that’s happened… Maybe I shouldn’t be so unwilling to take a little help.

His number is already in my phone–I added him to my contacts as I left the party last night–so I send him a quick text:

$

“Hunter, this is Flora, from the event last night. How are you?”

”

To my surprise, he responds almost immediately: “Flora! It’s so good to hear from you. I’m doing well. I take it you considered my offer?”

My heart pounds. I bite my lip, reconsidering briefly, but then decide to just go for it. “Yes, actually. My presentation is this afternoon. Any chance you could put in a good word for me?”

“Of course. I’ll make sure they know how talented you are. And I’ll be attending your presentation.”

Relief floods through me.

Later, I decide not to leave Miles at home–especially now that we have no nanny–so I take him to my presentation with me. With my Flora disguise and him wearing a hat and some silly glasses he picked out, we’re unrecognizable.

Abbott Gallery is already bustling when we arrive. The residency is prestigious, and there are at least twenty other artists vying for just one spot. I recognize a few faces, including…

Bella.

She notices me as soon as I walk in, her gaze immediately dropping to Miles.

“Is this the daycare center now? I wasn’t aware children were welcome.”

I tighten my grip on Miles‘ hand, biting back a retort. This isn’t the time or place to get into it with her.

“Actually, they’re with me.”

As they settle into seats at the back of the presentation room, I make my way to the front, setting up my laptop. My heart pounds in my chest at the size of the audience, but after a few deep breaths and a thumbs–up from Miles and Hunter, I feel a lot better.

When my presentation begins, I’m surprised by how steady my voice is. I talk about my background, my

influences, my artistic philosophy. I explain the pieces I’ve chosen to highlight, discussing my use of color and form and the emotions I aim to evoke.

Throughout it all, I can see Miles in the back, sitting attentively beside Hunter, who occasionally leans down to whisper something to him that makes him smile. The sight gives me strength.

Bella’s turn comes after mine, and it becomes immediately apparent that she hasn’t prepared a formal presentation at all. She stands at the front of the room with a practiced smile, launching into a speech about her family’s long history of supporting the arts and how she feels it’s ‘simply time‘ for her to receive recognition for her contributions.

“I believe my reputation speaks for itself,” she concludes, gesturing vaguely toward her portfolio without even opening it.

One of the committee members clears his throat. “Bella, we requested a formal presentation of your work and artistic vision. Do you have that prepared?”

Bella’s smile falters. “I wasn’t aware that was a requirement.”

“It was outlined clearly in the application materials,” another committee member says. “I’m afraid without a formal presentation, we can’t properly evaluate your candidacy.”

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