"Nothing," he replied, slipping the phone back into his pocket.
But when it buzzed again—this time with a call—I had enough. My mood was ruined. Without a word, I grabbed my bag and left the theater.
As I walked out of the theater, James quickly caught up with me, a frown creasing his face.
"You were watching just fine. What happened to you?"
"Who called you?" I asked bluntly.
"Ella Hughes," he admitted, confirming exactly what I had guessed—his coworker.
"Why is she calling you on the weekend?"
"Maybe it’s something about work," he replied, his tone measured.
When I didn’t respond, his patience seemed to wane. With a sigh of exasperation, he said, "If you don’t believe me, I’ll call her back."
Before I could protest, he dialed her number, putting the call on speaker as if to prove his innocence.
"Mr. Carter, there’s an issue with a student’s internship file," Ella’s voice came through the phone, clipped and professional. "Could you come back to school now? It’s urgent.
"Of course, if it’s inconvenient, I can handle it alone. But, James, you know as well as I do—work is more important than anything else."
The call ended abruptly, leaving James staring at me, his expression unreadable.