Chapter 14 Chapter Fourteen

Simon was awakened by the sunlight slanting in through the window.The sheet next to him still had Nicole's body temperature, and he heard the hiss of the coffee machine in the kitchen.He rubbed his eyes, looking at the clothes that had been thrown on the back of the chair in the fuss of the night before.He thought to himself that a middle-aged man would also feel horny, and it felt really good. At this moment, he smelled the aroma of coffee, and this strong aroma dragged him off the bed, into the bathroom, grabbed a towel bathrobe, and stepped down the stairs.Nicole was wearing one of Simon's shirts, waiting to fill the coffee pot, pulling the hem of the shirt up to her thigh with one hand.

Good morning, Madame Bouvier, I have a message for you. She turned her head and smiled at him.Yeah? I want to talk to you in the bedroom. She poured the coffee, brought it to the table, pushed Simon onto a chair, and sat on his lap.Ennis came within five minutes.She kisses him, and you're going to have a very busy morning. This is exactly what I expected. They were only halfway through their mugs of coffee when there was a knock on the door.Simon watched Nicole run up the stairs, thinking about taking a good nap when he let Ennis in. What a glorious day my dear!He tilted his head, looking down at Simon's bathrobe through his nose.But I bet you didn't notice the weather.

Jet lag, uh, otherwise I would have woken up a few hours ago.Before I clear my head, pour the coffee yourself! The two men left the house and walked toward the square, where the frost was still visible in the shadows, past the steaming windows of the cafe and the old hanging logs.The leaves of these old trees have long since fallen, and the branches have been pruned down to gray mottled root nodes.The light seemed to have a penetrating power, and the sky was blue.If it weren't for the lack of greenery in the grape fields and the biting cold wind in the air, it would really give people the illusion of early summer weather.

The parking lot opposite the police station was full of vans and trucks.Blank's BMW, the hallmark of a successful architect, is the only one that is not battered and dirty. Ennis said: Mr. Blank, come every day.And he's pretty tough on the poor lads who work day and night in the dead of winter.I don't know why they don't wear gloves and scarves.They stopped before the entrance.Shutters had been fitted to the windows, and the heavy-plank doors had been fitted temporarily.Ennis pushed open the door and said: Now, it's not like Kona, but it's not far off. The sun shone brightly in the huge room.The fire was already burning brightly in the grate, and there were piles of oak logs on either side of the fireplace.A red, white, and blue tablecloth was spread on the long table, densely packed bottles and cans were arranged from one end to the other, and in the center of the table was a 50-liter barrel of red wine.Around the black brazier, there were some smaller tables and chairs, and another long table with plates.In the center of the room, there is a Christmas tree that almost reaches the high ceiling, and the trunk is covered with red ribbons.The tall antique candlesticks on the walls, spaced six feet apart, had also been lit with fat candles.

Ennis said: Well, do you all like it?Of course, there will be flowers, food and ice delivered later.The electricity was on, and as for the music, I must say, Christmas carols, or that loud singer they all liked, the one called Qiang Dan or something?What do you think? Simon looked at it and shook his head, well, this place looks really good, you finally came to the right place!It's sure to be fun! Honey, everything is shining, Ennis glows with joy, then dodges all the way to a window, and now, that's the most exciting thing, come on, look! Simon followed him to the window.In the clear winter light, the mountains in the distance look like landscape paintings against a flat black background.Beneath his feet, Simon saw that the deck had been cleared and paved, and the swimming pool was finished.A cement mixer truck rumbles about there, and workers are building a low stone building with its back to the swimming pool, facing west toward the sunset.

Simon said: "That pool house looks really nice, like it's been there for a long time. Those were old stones and tiles, God knows where Blanc got them.When I asked him, he just touched his nose. They descended the steps and passed through the vaulted-roofed room, now a storage area for some beams and concrete, which would later house the restaurant.Once the pool house is complete, workers will move here and work their way up to complete the building.Symon was filled with impatience and excitement.It must work.He patted Ennis on the back.how do you feel? Still need to ask?You know, I feel like this is something I've always wanted to do, something as special as it is right now.He looked out at the top of the mountain, squinting in the sun, and yes, this was going to be a hit.Giving up Wimbledon isn't too bad of a deal!

They pass through the stone slabs, which are placed at intervals, and are used for planting medicinal plants. They are paved all the way to the empty swimming pool. Let it go, it looks like the water is going to overflow to the horizon. Simon said: Probably very few swimming pools have such a beautiful view.In a radius of eight to ten miles, there are hardly any houses to be seen. Ennis pointed to the west, the little mountain over there, where the sun went down.You can sit in a cabana by the pool and watch the sunset.A few evenings ago, I was there admiring the sunset, and it was amazing, so beautiful it was unreal.

They made their way to the pool house, and Blank paced anxiously among the group of plasterers who huddled to lift the ten-foot stone slab that served as a bar counter. May I?Be careful with your fingers.come on!Hey! It took a lot of effort for the plasterers to lift the stone up to chest height, lower it slowly and lightly, and place it on the cemented bar.Blank walked over quickly, looking at the slate, studying, frowning.No, the height should be lower, he bent down, picked up two small stones for the model, and gestured to the foreman of the plasterer. Claude squatted down, put his shoulders under one end of the stone, tried his best to lift the stone with great difficulty, his veins were exposed, and Blanc went in and looked at it from the horizontal direction.Well, great!The group of plasterers exhausted themselves, rubbing their cold and sore fingers.

Bronke wiped his dirty hands on the back of his trousers before shaking hands with Simon and Ennis.Everything went fairly smoothly, he said.The weather has been nice and exterior work is nearing completion, allowing the plasterers to work indoors for the remainder of the winter.He called one of the plasterers and introduced him to Simon as a well-built young man with huge shoulders reaching almost to his ears, a little beard, and a cheerful, stand-out face. Blank said: This is Mr. Funzi, he's the foreman. Fang Qi grinned, looked at his cement-stained hand, and stretched out his forearm for Simon to hold.It feels like a big rough cable.

Simon said: I hope you can come tonight. Of course, happy to do so.He grinned again, nodded, and turned back to the group of plasterers who were smoking and watching at the bar. Claude and Joe could breathe easily, but Jean and Basil were still grinding Ripped hands. Can I have a vacation?let's go! Blank resigns to Simon and Ennis and returns to work.Ennis looked at his watch, I better go in, they promised flowers before lunch. Simon walked slowly around the pool and sat down on a pile of flagstones.He imagined what it would be like in midsummer when guests soaked in the swimming pool, the scent of thyme and lavender on the terrace drifted through, and the white canvas umbrella by the pool blocked the sun and turned it into a gentle light. Under the umbrella was a ready-made lunch.He wondered who the first guests would be.Maybe he should invite Philippe and his decorative friends for Vogue to come over from Paris, how does Nicole feel about him?

There was the sound of cutting stones from the pool house, and Simon was a little apprehensive.What a cruel job to be a plasterer!To be frozen in the cold wind.The whole body is dirty, and the working environment is noisy and dangerous.If someone accidentally let the stone slip, someone will either have a broken leg or a broken bone.As long as the cutting knife misses, within half a second, the flesh and blood will appear immediately.They earn real hard-earned money.Simon felt a cold chill penetrate his clothes from the stone slab and hit his heart.Feeling guilty about his pampered status, he entered the house, and Ennis suggested a glass of red wine, which he readily agreed to. The three of them were busy all afternoon, and by the time Ennis felt satisfied, it was already dusk.The fire in the brazier was burning fiercely, and the shadows of the candles quivered and swayed on the wall. There were vases of pink tulips on every table. Simon thought that the food should be enough to cope with the endless stream of guests. Pots of wine and water, meats, salads, cheeses, and great pots of cuts, pastries, pies, and a plate of wine cheesecakes prepared with great care by Ennis, kept warm over the coals.Nobody leaves hungry. Simon opened the door and looked up and down the empty street.What a quiet village.He was beginning to feel a wave of doubt about what it would be like to wait between all the preparations and the guests. He said: "Probably there won't be a long line of people waiting to come in, maybe I should go to Cavillon and buy some head-filling scenes." Nicole smiled and said: They will come, don't worry.Didn't you see it this afternoon?Everyone in half the village wanted to poke their heads in and see. Simon remembered seeing a couple through the open door as the delivery man came in with the deliveries.They were tall, in their thirties, with pale faces and dark clothes.Monsieur wears narrow, sinister sunglasses, like an out-of-date actor who doesn't want to be recognized.The two of them just stared at Simon blankly and unfriendlyly.Later Simon described to Nicole what it was like to see the two men. She said: Ah, those people, you must not like them, they are British, they are all hipsters, and they are good friends with the Crow. What does that man do for a living? He married her, and she bought him an antique shop. Have they lived here all this time? Oh, sometimes they live here, sometimes in Paris, the villagers call them Mrs. and Mrs. Varim. Ennis exclaimed contemptuously: That's amazing, are they just pretending, or are they simply boring? Nicole shrugged, who knew?They're very sluggish, very cold, no, not cold, it's numb, you know?Very grim. Simon said: God help me too.I should have seen it from their appearance.If they turned their noses up half the sky, their necks would probably be broken.Pretentious, I wonder if he also wears sunglasses to sleep? Nicole was puzzled. Posers think they are delicate.They just stand by and never engage.They are socially awkward and very uninteresting.You're right, I definitely wouldn't like them. Ennis said: "Yeah, it's really not in line with the festive atmosphere, I think we should have some drinks before the crowds come.If the couple did come, we put them in a corner where no one would pass by, and woke them up when the show was over.What would you like to drink? They sat at one of the small tables, slowly drinking the cool red wine.Simon felt a little edgy, a little worried, the feeling of being in a meeting that was expected to be tough.Suppose Nicole's ideas are biased, and the villagers hate restaurants, what should I do?What if the Crows came by and wrote slanderous articles?if You are very kind!She looked at him over the glass, her eyes bright and deep.A girl like her, Simon thought, would make a great hotel receptionist.He will talk to her father. He said: I never asked your name. Franswa. My name is Simon. Dad said you were going to build a restaurant. Yes, we hope to open next summer. She took a sip of champagne and looked down at her glass, her dark lashes belied her healthy olive skin.You're going to need people. We're going to start looking for people right after Christmas. I am very interested.She leaned forward, and Simon stared at the little golden cross dangling from the opening of her top.I want to try something new. What would your parents think if you left the coffee shop?I can't poach you away! She sucks her lower lip and twitches her shoulders, I have a cousin, she can help here. I'll talk to your father, okay?Listen, I have to go.He left the bar, goodbye, Franseva! Bye, Simon! He walked slowly to the police station, laughing alone in the dark.If she stayed at the restaurant counter, she would definitely make the male guests' hearts skip a beat. As he approached the open door, he saw three figures standing outside.One of them said: "I think we should go in and join them, Crowe, didn't you say he was an ad man?"Just a nasty villain in a bow tie.They went through the gate, and Simon recognized them as the couple, followed by a small man whose head seemed too big.Basiye's big shot has finally arrived. Simon waited outside for a while before returning to the joyful feast filled with warmth.The couple and Crowe sat down at a small table in the corner, grabbing a bottle of champagne for themselves.They all leaned on the backs of their chairs, looking tired and bored, and were out of the laughter and conversations around them.Simon kept himself entertained as he walked over to their table. Glad to have you here, I'm Simon Xiao. It was like shaking hands with three dead fish.Mrs. Warim, with a pale, almost pretty face, with long straight hair, forced a smile.Mr. Warim's expression, concealed by the sunglasses that block the candlelight, has not changed.Crouch stared.Rarely, Simon thought, had he seen paler, irritable faces. Crowe said: Oh, you are the famous ad man, very good, very good, we are honored to know you.His voice sounded like it was coming out of his nose, and his low-mid-bass reminded Simon of a mean schoolmate at school. How did you know I work in advertising? Mr. Xiao, I am a reporter.It is my duty to know elites from all walks of life.The couple smiled faintly and played with their champagne flutes. Crowe continued: I guess it's going to be a fancy hotel.He talked as if the hotel was an unpleasant place he would never set foot in. Yes, just a small hotel. Just what the villagers needed. The villagers seemed to welcome it. Mr. Xiao, not all villagers are welcome.I think you should have read my column.So you should know how I feel about Provence being spoiled by the so-called illusion of progress.Crouch gulped down the champagne and nodded at the couple.No, not all villagers want to see the streets full of Mercedes cars and dolled-up tourists. I think you're exaggerating. Crawford continued as if he hadn't heard Simon speak.But, I think, we still have to let the public decide.Ah, how it's said in your line of business.As long as there is publicity, is it good publicity?He smiled, and the Warrens laughed too, and we'll see. Simon reached for the champagne, filled Crawford's glass, and raised it.That's interesting, but I wanted to talk to you about publicity.Maybe we should go over there, I don't want to bore your friend. Crouch looked at Simon and stood up.Well, it should be fun. Simon led him to a quiet corner behind the bar.The fire was reflected on Crow's face, and Simon noticed a little sweat on his forehead and above his lips.He must have had a drink before he came here, and Simon could smell sour liquor on his breath. Mr. Crawford, now let's talk publicity!Simon smiled brightly, trying to keep his voice cheerful and reasonable.I do hope that before the hotel opens, it will not be exposed in the media.You know how short the memory of the masses is. Crawford looked at him, didn't answer, a sneer seemed to pop out of the corner of his mouth, that's all.This idle young man with a high salary in front of him is about to ask him for favors. I would appreciate it if you would not comment during this time.Simon went to the bar and took a bottle of wine from the ice bucket.How about some more champagne? Mr. Shaw, it will take more than champagne to stop me from writing.He handed out the empty cup, but your old trade was an innocent trade. Simon nodded, refusing to be led by the nose.So tell me, what will it cost me? Crowland's banter finally bears fruit.I think I can see where our conversation is headed, and I'm afraid I'm going to disappoint you.He drank his glass, cherishing this moment, cherishing the power of the media, thinking that he could make a rich man restless, it was enough to make him proud.No, Mr. Xiao, just wait and see. "Globe" will definitely report heavily.Large-scale reporting, is that the term you use?You know, I have 750,000 readers.He suppressed his hiccups and finished the champagne.He poured himself another drink. Simon's voice hardened.You used to have 750,000 readers, but what you don't know is that the reading rate has gradually declined in the past three years. Didn't they tell you? Crouch licks the sweat off his lips.But it is also the most influential newspaper in the UK. That's why many ad agencies pay £4 million a year for its space.Simon sighed, as if reluctant to dilute the cheery statistics with bad news.Of course, this is subject to verification. Crow's eyes narrowed on his swollen cheeks. Several of the four million pounds have gone into your pocket, Mr. Crawford.Have you ever thought about this?Maybe not.Anyway, it doesn't really matter. Yes, Mr. Xiao, it is not important.Crawford started to move, but Simon grabbed his arm. I'm not done yet!Let me be clear.As long as my hotel is mentioned in your column or other newspapers in the next six months, I will pull all the advertisements in the "Globe", you heard clearly, all the advertisements! Crowland's wine glass is half-empty.You dare not.You're not fighting the crappy media, it's the British media.My editor couldn't hold back. I'm not dealing with your editor, I'm dealing directly with the operator, your boss.Simon repeated Crawford's earlier statement of false modesty, isn't that your usual term?I eat with him two or three times a year.He's a very down-to-earth guy. Simon saw Crow's hands trembling.Be careful, your champagne is spilling. Simply lawless.Crawford sucked on the contents of his glass, as if it inspired him.Crawford's cynical tone was back.Do you know what I can do about it?Treat this whole nasty thing as a threat and put it on the front page.That would be a pretty good article, a very good article. Simon nodded.Yes, I think it will.If things do evolve like this, three things will happen.First, I will deny it; second, I will pull down the advertisement; third, I will sue you, not the newspaper, but you. The two men just stared at each other for a while, until Simon asked what about another drink?Only then did the hostile silence be broken. fuck you!Claw walked past Simon and staggered briskly back to the table where the Varims were.Crowley spoke to them, they looked at Simon, and got up to leave. Qiao Zai and Claude leaned closer to the ouzo on the bar, watching Crow and the couple pursed their mouths and walked towards the door with displeasure on their faces.Qiao Zai elbowed his companions, they were not very happy! Claude shrugged, that's normal.In his limited experience, all the English he encountered were dissatisfaction with certain things, such as too much sun, blocked water pipes, and lagging progress on the construction site, but he never encountered despair.But at least most of them are quite polite and not arrogant like Parisians.Omg, Parisians.He drained his drink and yawned.The general will have a training camp tomorrow, which may be even more difficult.His back still hurts from the last training camp.Bicycle seat cushions are definitely not designed for larger people.are we leaving They walked over to say goodbye to Simon.They thought that an Englishman like Simon wasn't too bad.They shook his hand firmly.He'll give them comfortable work indoors all winter long. Simon felt relieved.He was sure that Crow District would not dare to mess around.The evil bastard seemed to believe him, and he didn't seem like a man with enough self-confidence to take the risk.Nor does he have the privilege of a media reporter, who can hit and run, dodging the shock of his articles and hiding behind editors who live hundreds of miles away.Simon thought that the enemy in the village was much easier to deal with than the enemy in London. It was past midnight when the last guest, Mayor Pornetto, left, drunk.He hugged all three of them, said goodbye, and staggered back to the café.Ennis cut out the Gypsy Kings and replaced it with Chopin.The room seemed strangely quiet.It is indeed satisfying to see the bottles, glasses, dishes, and ashtrays littered with evidence of a successful dinner.Simon tipped the barrel to get three glasses full. Although tired, I still don't want to sleep.They exchange ideas with each other.Nicole's buttocks were pinched by the mayor.A salesman selling security systems tries to scare Simon with alarming local crime statistics.Real estate brokers hinted that they would charge commissions for guests they introduced to hotels.Duclos of the repair shop proposed that the Citroen ambulance, which had not been sold for eighteen months, could serve as a taxi for the guests.He said they could sleep on a pull-out sofa bed in the back of the car and sleep all the way from the airport to Basiya, or they could offer a rental car for honeymooners What happened to the sweaty little man?Ennis asked, I saw you chatting happily in the corner, why did he suddenly walk away with his friends.If someone were throwing a dumb dinner party, two of his friends would be the perfect guests. Simon recounted his conversation with Crawford. Nicole shook her head.It's complicated.In France, things are much simpler.You just give the reporter money.She shrugged, and that was it. What if they know the taste and want more money?Simon yawned and stretched.I figured he'd keep quiet until I settled with the ad agency.After that, it doesn't matter.More importantly, the villagers seem to be quite happy. They sat for another half hour and Nicole described what she had heard.As she expected, the people here see restaurants as a source of entertainment, which may lead to prosperity.Their real estate will thus increase in value and create more job opportunities. Perhaps in this way, their children will not have to leave their homes. For them, tourism is quite attractive.How far is the picturesque pastoral life and sunny sunshine on postcards from the depressing crop failures, backaches and bank loans in real life.They naturally welcome the opportunity to feed their families in clean clothes. With a contented mood, they blew out the candles and locked the wreckage behind the door.It was a nice party and in two days it will be Christmas. Simon picked a rather ingenious time to call Jordan. At this time, he should have had two glasses of gin, and he couldn't help feeling sad because he had to make his father-in-law and mother-in-law happy in the next few days. Hello?It was Jordan's wife, and there was a dog barking on the line. Percy, shut up, hello? Louise, I hope I didn't bother you.I'm Simon Xiao. Simon, how are you?Merry Christmas!Percy, go get your slippers, God, Simon, sorry! Merry Christmas.I wonder if it's okay to have a brief phone call with Nigo? Simon heard Percy being reprimanded and footsteps on the solid wood floor. Simon? Nigo, sorry to bother you, but I have something important to do.Can you have a meeting in London on the 27th?I hate to ask you that, but "My dear Jordan, lowering her voice almost inaudibly, could not be more pleased to tell you in secret."But what is it? Good news, why don't you pick me up at Lulan Gate that morning, and we'll talk later?What happened to the car? Old fellow, light as a bird, light as a bird. Well, see you on the 27th.Oh, Merry Christmas to you! Jordan didn't seem to appreciate that I couldn't be happy unless I had wine to drink. Cyanide works wonders, they say.Enjoy playing! Simon put the phone down and shook his head.Every Christmas, it reminds him of Bernard Shaw's commentary on marriage.What exactly is marriage?Optimist excitement is better than experience.Everyone he knew had Christmas in a responsible mood, as he had when his parents were alive.Wanton riots and alcohol will eventually detonate temper and disputes, followed by endless regrets, and then the New Year, and then do it all over again.No wonder January is such an evil month. But he must admit that he enjoyed his short Christmas break in France very much.They had lunch on the shaded terrace, wrapped in scarves and thick sweaters, wandered the rough countryside for a few hours, and then went to bed early, fresh air and strong red wine were the most exciting things.The next day, they worked on the whole plan at the police station and didn't leave until it was time to go to the airport to catch a flight back to Heathrow.When he and Ennis drove away from the village.After entering the valley, Simon realized that this was the first time in a long time that he was looking forward to the arrival of the New Year. London is like a dead city. Everyone stays in front of the TV and spends the next day of Christmas numbly.Lu Lanmen's apartment became strange overnight. He tossed and turned all night, thinking about Nicole, unable to concentrate on what he was going to say at the meeting tomorrow. He really hoped that the meeting was over and he had returned to the warm place on the hill. cabin.Ji Gele must be shocked. He woke up early, checked the empty refrigerator, and went out to find breakfast.Sloan Street was quiet, shrouded in a gray atmosphere, and some shops that couldn't wait had already put up advertisements for big sales.As he walked past the Alemanni boutique, he couldn't help but wonder where Caroline spent her Christmas.Maybe she's in St. Moritz, where she can change clothes four times a day and hang out with those European scumbags. He approached the Carlton Beacon Hotel and found the dining room (which usually gathers a lot of men in suits, where the first breakfast meeting is held), but at this moment, there are only a few Americans and Japanese, using traditional British breakfast at the table, while studying the good food guide.Simon ordered coffee and pulled out the press release he had prepared earlier.He finds this a typical press release that's superficial and boring, and he's already tried to fit in a few of his favorite clichés: He's off there for a year, observing the pulse of the world on the one hand, and talking to commercials on the other. Companies will also remain closely connected.It's just classic incomprehensible.Jordan might include a picture of himself and his management team, and that wouldn't be a problem.What about Jigler?He'd call it shit, and he was right!But he understands as well as Simon that this is the shit that holds everything in the advertising world together. Simon walked across the empty street to the apartment, lit a cigar, and waited for Jordan.In a few hours, everything will be settled. The whistling sound of the famous Bentley announced Jordan's arrival.Simon hurried out to meet him.He was wearing yet another suit of bulletproof brown tweed, the wool puffed up like a stomping mat, and a knitted tie the color of catarrh.He smiled and held out his hand in greeting. Good morning, old man, come back from the festival? Simon got into his car and looked appreciatively at the dark brown leather chairs and walnut grain trim.Not too bad!how about you? So far, I have not encountered any disasters, but let me tell you, it is the right time for you to rescue me from the sea of ​​suffering.Playing bridge all the time is so boring!He looked at Simon, tapping the steering wheel with his fingers.You made this a mystery, what is it? We'll meet Kiegler at the Clareridge Hotel, and I'm resigning. When Jordan drove away from Lulan Gate, he grinned and said: Old guy!Hurry up!He slammed on the gas pedal, and the big car sped up seventy miles an hour, and quickly reached the corner of Hyde Park. A taxi had to give way, but it responded angrily with a loud horn.What do you think of the car's engine? It would be better if the speed was slower.Turn right at the next street and you will be in Clareridge. Jordan's car occupies a two-lane lane. You are not serious about resigning, are you? If I can hold on! Jordan didn't say a word, Simon smiled to himself.When he drove the car outside the hotel, the loudest sound in the car was the sound of Jordan's head turning. Jigler met them in the suite where he was staying, wearing gray jogging sportswear and air-cushioned jogging shoes.Seeing Jordan's unexpected appearance, he frowned.What are you doing?Delegation? Simon said: Bob, seasonal greetings, I hope you are well? Ji Gele looked at them suspiciously.In his rule of thumb, men in pairs usually hide conspiracies or troublemaking connotations.He decided to start with a brighter start.Of course!What would you like to drink?juice?coffee? Jordan looked at his watch.Honestly, I wouldn't mind a fizzy drink.Jigler was a little puzzled, the champagne was ready. Ji Gele ordered the in-room catering, and Simon took out the documents brought by Jordan when Jordan was conducting the cigarette selection ceremony. All right!Ji Gele tried to sit as far away from the smoking area as possible, what's wrong? Slowly and unemotionally, Simon framed his departure as a positive development for the company and assured him that he would cooperate in gradually releasing his shares to other board members.He had just handed them the press release when the champagne arrived.He stood up, tipped the waiter, stood by the door, watched the two men frown, read the press release, and weigh the effect on them. Ji Gele is optimistic about Simon's resignation, because in this way, he can become a leader in the industry.Jordan can also change to a bigger office and a higher-level title to match his new car.Neither of them would miss him at all, but he would miss them more.To put it bluntly, this is nothing more than business and self-interest. Jordan got up and came over to Simon, putting on as serious a face as he could, and patted Simon on the shoulder.We're going to miss you, old man.I really miss you.I really value our friendship.Thinking that he was about to lose such a close comrade-in-arms, he couldn't help sighing, and reached for the champagne.He said: Ah, Perrier-Jouet '85, that's great! Ji Gele started pacing back and forth.Simon stared at his jogging shoes.The shoes seem to swell and seem to make Jigle jump.I don't understand.You're going to run a goddamn hotel in the middle of nowhere?He stopped and looked at Simon wagging his head, poking his head forward like a dog inspecting a bone that had accidentally turned up and might be drugged.Your smoke kills me.There must be another ad agency. The room was silent except for the sound of Jordan snuffing out his cigarette as he poked vigorously into the golden ash. no bob.It's not like that, I've had enough, it's as simple as that.I'm just ready to switch.Simon smiled and said: Wish me luck and tell me you'll miss me. Ji Gele frowned.What do you want?Shall I treat you to a whole chicken dinner and give you a goddamn medal?You throw this hot potato to me, and you want me to be happy?God! Under such posturing, after a long talk until the afternoon.Simon could feel that the situation was becoming clearer, and neither Jigler nor Jordan wanted him to stay any longer.In the space of a few hours, his status quickly morphed from indispensable to a potential humiliation, a disengaged executive, a disbelieving believer.People like him are divisive and dangerous because they threaten the company's long-standing reputation. Simon listened to Ji Gele and Jordan singing the name of the client all the way, assessing the possible damage, and discussing the high-level changes.They never asked him for advice, and Simon knew that, by Jigler's definition, he was history.The details will be left to the sole discretion of the attorney.He's out.