"Is this your decision, or your boss's? Or the boss of your boss's? I want to talk to him. I want to talk with Mr. Garstean!"
As he said this, Tristan rose slightly in his seat and pinned the agent in front of him with a gaze full of authority.
That look and voice would've been enough to make an average man sweat and comply. However, the agent had years of experience working with prissy and bitchy showbiz people. Even someone like Tristan, someone the agent was warned about, was not enough to make him give up immediately.
Clenching his fists nervously, the man shook his head.
"Mr. Gemello, I apologize again, but Mr. Garstean's decision was—"
Tristan forcefully cut the agent off. He leaned forward in his seat, putting even more pressure on the way he addressed the man.