Gordon's heavenly voice, accompanied by the sea breeze, seemed even more distant, with a touch of the echo you would only find in a vast open field.
Although he still habitually teased Sean Lowell, Gordon's tone had become much softer than before.
"A little sea breeze to clear the mind isn't a bad idea." Sean Lowell inexplicably started liking Islay's terrible weather; the more rampant the wind, the more real its presence felt.
Gordon wasn't feeling great; why did an artist's foggy mind mean the agent had to brave the wind as well?
How could an agent possibly endure an artist who was so unreasonable?
Yet Gordon didn't have the heart to ruin Sean Lowell's sudden burst of positive energy.
While Gordo was about to lose his temper and Gordon was holding his tongue, Gordon's phone rang.
"I might be loyal to you, but how should I handle this?"
The call was from Elder Ford.
How did the world's most handsome agent end up with such an unreliable artist like The Jilted?
