“Ms. Bennett,” groaned the manager, tossing a stack of invoices onto his cluttered desk, “it's the end of the year and a handful of
companies haven't settled their accounts yet. Every tour sales reps bring it up, they get the runaround—ssay they'll pay
in a few days, others claim they need tto get their finances in order, and shave just gone off the grid.”
Dean rubbed his temples in clear frustration. The delicate balance of maintaining good business relationships while ensuring future
cooperation meant he could only ask his team to be patient, to wait a little longer.
But the New Year was around the corner.
“Sof these execs have the money, but they just don’t plan on paying up. Our reps try to reach them, and they claim they're
out of the country.”
“Catch them in the act,” Ms. Bennett suggested. “Make it seem like a coincidence when they're with other partners at an event.
They're less likely to refuse in front of others. Choose your words carefully, and maybe approach them during a dinner event where
they can’t easily avoid you. If they're deliberately withholding payment, we'll cut off their supply. If they're genuinely in a tough
spot, we can settle for a partial payment—for now, every little bit counts.”
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇt
“And if our sales reps still can’t collect the money?” Dean inquired, seeking advice.
“Then it’s tfor the finance department to step in and audit the accounts.”
Once the finance department got involved and started formal auditing to confirm the amount of debt, any subsequent litigation
would be straightforward. With an audit report in hand, the debtor's chances of winning a lawsuit were slim to none.
Of course, that was the nuclear option, a last resort when all else failed.
“Let the finance folks have a talk with them first. If that doesn’t work, then you letknow,” Ms. Bennett concluded, glancing at
her watch. “I need to head out now.”
Dean checked the time; it was barely three in the afternoon and Arabella was already leaving.
But then again, Ms. Bennett was unpredictable and always on the move.
Meanwhile, at another location.
Louisa slammed the coffee table, fuming. “These people are out of line! Saying that only lip-syncing could produce such flawless
vocals? Maybe it’s hard for them to reach that level, but for Bella, singing is as easy as breathing. They can’t do it themselves, so
they accuse others of faking it!”
“Exactly,” Kenneth agreed, visibly upset as he scrolled through the trending topics on his phone. “They're even saying Bella was
just mouthing the words, that the performance we heard was pre-recorded. I'll have someone cool this down. It's outrageous, the
nerve of speople!”
Accusations of lip-syncing were bad enough, but they didn’t stop there. Rumors were spreading that Bella's past songs were
plagiarized, with sclaiming she had copied up to eighteen different tracks—an absurd assertion.
“We can’t just suppress this; people will say Bella's paying to have comments deleted,” Louisa pondered their next move when a
new headline caught her eye, “David Collins steps forward to confirm.”
She quickly clicked on the link. Her son, David, had posted on Twitter that Summer was indeed singing live, accompanying his
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmstatement with a simple image captioned, “Case closed.”
His word was the strongest testimony, and public opinion began to shift in his favor.
[David said it, so it must be true—Summer was singing live!]
[How could David not know about lip-syncing? What can you tell from watching on TV? David was right there during the concert;
his word is final!]
[David is the best witness!]
[I believe David!]
[So do I!]
Simultaneously, another trending topic appeared, “Ms. Kiki Strikes Back.”
Curious, Louisa clicked on the news, only to discover that Bella's agent, Ms. Kiki, had posted dozens of screenshots from users who
had accused Bella of lip-syncing and plagiarism. She had preserved each one and was now sending out legal notices, preparing to
take each accuser to court.