NovelsFreeChapter 37 Suzan asked the waiter to bring over stea, intercepting the tray at the door before anyone else could see.
With a quick glance over her shoulder, she rummaged through her purse, pulled out a small packet, and discreetly emptied its contents into one of the cups.
Finally, her little insurance plan was about to pay off. Perfect.
Carefully, she set the tray down on the table herself, making a point to hand out the cups personally.
First, she offered a cup to Mr. Horace, then handed one to Effie.
As she did, Suzan shot Effie a pointed look, the corners of her mouth curling up ever so slightly.
Effie instantly picked up on the meaning in Suzan's gaze, every alarm in her head going off. Wherever Suzan was involved, letting her guard down was simply not an option.
Suzan had just been trending for all the wrong reasons-a pariah overnight, with everyone gunning for her.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtYet here she was, instead of lying low at home, boldly joining the dinner as if nothing had happened. What was she really after? Effie accepted the cup, feeling the gentle warmth through the porcelain as she mulled it over.
She stared down at the amber liquid, watching wisps of steam curl up, carrying with them a faint, unfamiliar scent.
Masking her suspicion, Effie set the cup back on the table and pretended to smooth her dress.
"Designer Bagnold, aren't you going to have some?" Mr. Horace asked, his eyes crinkling with a smile. "It's a wonderful Darjeeling." "Please, after you, Mr. Horace." Effie looked up, giving him a perfectly poised smile.
Mr. Horace laughed and tossed back his tea in one easy motion.
Spotting this, Suzan's eyes flashed with satisfaction as she took a small sip from her own cup.
Effie reached for her tea, lifting it to her lips-but just as she was about to drink, her hand suddenly trembled. A splash of hot tea spilled onto her fingers and dripped down her dress.
A bright red blotch flared up across the back of her hand, the pain sharp and immediate.
Effie gasped, then hurriedly apologized, "I'm so sorry-I'll just go clean this up." She stood and quickly excused herself, heading for the restroom.
Suzan watched her leave, brow furrowing ever so slightly.
Did that little witch know something? Why the sudden clumsiness? But seeing Effie's cup still half full, Suzan forced a smile and turned her attention to Mr. Horace, launching into a lively conversation.
Mr. Horace, for his part, found himself pleasantly surprised by Suzan's warmth and curvy figure. Not quite on Designer Bagnold's level, perhaps, but certainly enthusiastic enough to keep him entertained.
The two of them chatted merrily, laughter bubbling between them.
Meanwhile, outside the private dining room, Effie finally let herself breathe.
She was just making her way to the restroom when she collided with what felt like a brick wall-a broad, solid chest that left her nose stinging.
Looking up, she found herself staring at a face so handsit seemed almost unreal.
Under the restaurant's soft golden lights, every striking angle of the man's features was thrown into relief.
Lyman.
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmWhat were the odds? Effie froze, momentarily stunned.
Lyman's dark eyes lit up with a rare, teasing smile as he caught her gaze.
"What a coincidence. Didn't expect to run into you here on business," he said, his tone easy but his eyes En.. lingering on her. Truth was, Lyman had chere on purpose.
He'd heard Effie was having dinner with a client tonight and, worried about her position at the company and especially about the notorious Mr. Horace-he'd asked Luther to find out which restaurant they'd booked. Not about to leave things to chance, Lyman arranged a dinner here with sfriends of his own.
This place was, admittedly, top notch.
But he didn't want Effie to suspect anything, didn't want her to think he was interfering in her work. So he pretended to be just another diner, surprised to see her.
Effie nodded, managing a polite, "Yeah. Small world." She knew Lyman was here to meet friends.
But Lyman's eyes suddenly dropped to her hand. Even under the dim lights, the angry red splotch on her pale skin was impossible to miss.
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