Mr. Webb, Make Your Move! by Tammy
Mr. Webb Make Your Move! by Tammy Chapter 12

Chapter 12

The following morning, Zara was back at Yosef’s side, escorting Mr. Smith from the day before to the Parade Float Manufacturing Factory.

Azure Cloud Group specialized in venture capital. They were one of the top investment firms in the country with projects funded all over the globe and domestically.

Their influence was massive, and they played a decisive role in society. That was why they often took charge of government–backed initiatives.

The Parade Float Manufacturing Factory was an example of that. It was a project that preserved cultural treasures.

Zara had shaken off last night’s meltdown and was back to her polished self, standing by Yosef’s side as the picture–perfect assistant. She chimed in whenever needed and stayed silent and attentive when not.

The factory was a cavernous space filled with rows of vibrant, whimsically designed parade floats. The seasoned factory manager was giving them the grand tour, and Mr. Smith could not help but marvel as he listened to the introduction.

Beaming with pride, the manager boasted, “These beauties are a mere 60 feet. We’re in the middle of crafting the largest parade float on the planet, a whopping 331 feet! When it’s done, we’re going for the Guinness World Record to put us on the map!”

Mr. Smith’s jaw dropped. “331 feet? That’s huge! It must be a sight to behold! Can I sneak a peek?”

“Absolutely,” the manager replied with a grin. “In fact, it’s right above us. Look up.”

They all raised their heads and saw that there was a huge parade float hanging from the ceiling. They could not see the full size of it from where they were.

up like this. The manager said, “It takes up too much space, so we had no choice but to hang it We’ve only completed the basic structure, and there’s still a long process ahead. The next step is to complete its form.”

Everyone was looking at the float, but Zara felt as though someone was staring hard at her.

Zara’s eyes swept across the scene until they landed on a figure lurking in a far–off corner. A tall man, his face hidden behind a hat and a mask, was aiming a long–lens camera their way.

Zara’s brows creased with concern. “Hey, who’s that guy?”

The factory manager barely gave the man a glance. “He claims he’s a blogger or something. He posts things online.

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“He heard about our place being a heritage site and that we’re crafting a 331–foot parade float, so he wanted to capture it on film. I figured it’s good publicity, so I let him.”

The man’s camera was pointed in their direction, which made sense if he was here to take photos of the parade float. After all, the float was huge, and they were strolling right beneath its massive hull.

Perhaps Zara was just being overly cautious.

She shifted her focus back to the present, only to be caught off guard as Yosef reached out his hand to her. She hesitated, puzzled.

What did he want?

Yosef’s hand hovered awkwardly in the air for a good half a minute before he shot Zara a puzzled frown. Then, it clicked. He was asking for a wet wipe to clean his hands.

He was a bit of a clean freak, always needing to wipe his hands if he so much as brushed against something.

In the past, Zara would pay attention to his every move and have all his habits memorized. A simple look or gesture from him was all it took for her to understand.

Today, however, her mind was elsewhere.

She handed him a wet wipe from her bag, a bit taken aback by her own inattention. It was not that she was preoccupied, but that she just was not as tuned into him as she used to be.

Her apparent indifference made Yosef take a second, longer look at her.

The slap she gave him the night before was not hard enough to leave a mark on his chiseled face. It was as though it never happened.

Beatrice was there too, of course, her eyes catching Yosef’s lingering gaze on Zara. A sly thought crossed her mind, ‘As long as I’m around, you’re just playing second fiddle.‘

Out of the blue, she called out, “Ms. Lowry.”

Zara swiveled around.

She spotted that guy snapping photos in her direction again. There was no mistaking it. He was definitely taking photos of her.

Zara thought about confronting him, asking why he was taking photos of her. However, the client was still around, and she did not want to stir up trouble with him present.

The tour would be over soon anyway. She would have time to catch him once it was over.

“What’s up?” Zara asked Beatrice.

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In a hushed tone, Beatrice asked, “Does our company actually make any cash from projects like this?”

“We’re not chasing dollars with this one,” Zara replied.

“Oh, so it’s all about fame?” Beatrice’s smile was sweet and light. “Got it.”

Zara’s eyes flicked to the ‘4‘ sticker on the wall, then she hurried to catch up with Yosef.

The tour wrapped up, and Yosef was rounding everyone up for lunch when a voice boomed from upstairs. “Danger! Move!”

Instinctively, everyone’s gaze shot upward.

The 331–foot Thanksgiving parade float was tilting crazily. It had been hanging by a bunch of thick ropes, but now, they had snapped. The float plummeted, heading straight for the ground!

Everyone’s eyes were wide open, and there was no time to think. Zara’s hand shot out to grab Yosef.

However, she caught nothing.

In a heartbeat, the float hit, and the crowd below tumbled into chaos.

Zara tried to grab Yosef, but she was a split second too late. The float clipped her calf, and she could not help but cry out.

It hurt.

Somehow, the throbbing in her leg was not the worst pain she felt.

Looking up, Zara saw Yosef, the guy she could not reach in time, shielding Beatrice with his own body. He had lunged for Beatrice in that critical moment.

He had thrown caution to the wind for her.

Was he really that deeply in love?

Staring at her injured leg, Zara let out a bitter chuckle.

Three years of her life and for what? It all seemed so pointless now.