Damn it!
Which news outlet had the nerve to pull this?
Luther nodded, but hesitated before asking, “Mr. Etheridge, do you want us to issue a statement? This has already started to affect the company’s reputation, and… well, your wife might see it too.”
At the mention of Effie, Lyman’s expression flickered and his tone softened. “Handle the statement, but make sure you clarify that there’s nothing between Isabel and me—it’s strictly business. As for my wife…”
He paused, voice dropping lower. “I’ll explain things to her myself.”
Lyman’s gaze turned brooding. He couldn’t help but wonder—what would Effie think when she saw the news?
Would she be jealous?
Effie, however, didn’t have time for such thoughts—she was far too busy for that.
Around three in the afternoon, Isabel arrived at the office.
Truth be told, if Isabel hadn’t insisted, Effie could’ve just sent the sketches over for her approval. But Isabel was adamant about coming in person, wanting to review everything face-to-face.
So Effie waited in the conference room well ahead of time.
It was nearly three-thirty before Isabel finally made her entrance, unhurried and unapologetic for being late.
As soon as she walked in, Effie stood and greeted her, her voice calm and poised. “Miss Isabel, please have a seat.”
Isabel glanced at her coolly, then said, “Designer Bagnold, you really are something. Finished already? No wonder you’re the creative director.”
Effie wasn’t naïve—she caught the sarcasm right away.
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