Chapter 137
As evening settled in, the group gathered for dinner at the resort hotel. Laughter and lively conversation filled the air; everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves.
Lyman was especially attentive to Effie. Even while chatting with Mr. Smith, he kept an eye on her, making sure her plate was never empty. Whenever Effie reached for the fish, Lyman would carefully remove the bones for her.
His thoughtful gestures warmed Effie’s heart. She turned her head slightly, giving him a gentle smile. “Thank you,” she whispered.
Mrs. Smith, watching the exchange, grinned and teased, “Mr. Etheridge, you’re spoiling your wife! It’s really quite enviable.”
Mr. Smith nodded in agreement. “Absolutely. Mr. Etheridge, you’re young, successful, and blessed with a wonderful family. You really are living the dream.”
Lyman smiled calmly, though his gaze never left Effie. “I am,” he said, “I’m very fortunate.”
Effie, caught off guard by his candid words, blushed and lowered her head, hiding behind a sip of tea.
The meal carried on in high spirits. Lyman and Mr. Smith soon became engrossed in conversation-discussing business, policies, and future plans. Both men clearly knew their stuff. Effie hadn’t been following the conversation closely, but even so, she couldn’t help but marvel at how knowledgeable Lyman was. Mr. Smith, too, impressed her with his insights.
People who achieve great things, she thought, really are in a league of their own. With the two men deep in discussion, Effie found herself growing bored. After a while, she excused herself and headed to the restroom.
On her way back, she noticed a small courtyard just beyond the corridor. Wanting some fresh air, she wandered over, letting the night breeze clear her mind.
Suddenly, she saw Mr. Smith approaching. He looked unsteady on his feet, likely from one too many drinks, and seemed liable to stumble at any moment.
Effie hesitated. It didn’t feel quite right to approach—after all, there were boundaries to consider.
But Mr. Smith spotted her almost immediately, his gaze fixed intently on her. “Mrs. Etheridge! What a coincidence, stepping out for some air as well?”
Effie nodded politely. “Yes, I was just about to head back inside.”
Something in Mr. Smith’s eyes unsettled her. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but
it made her skin crawl. Maybe she was just imagining things.
Not wanting to linger, Effie offered a brief smile and started to walk past him.
As she moved by, Mr. Smith suddenly reached out and grabbed her hand. “Mrs. Etheridge, what perfume are you wearing? It’s absolutely lovely…”
Effie jerked her hand away, stepping back quickly, her expression turning cold. “Mr. Smith, please keep your distance.”
Mr. Smith had intended to play the fool, to test the waters, but he hadn’t expected such a strong reaction. After all, she was Lyman’s wife. Still, there was something about her her beauty was understated, natural, not the overly made-up look he saw so often. She was captivating, even more so because of her quiet charm.
Catching himself, Mr. Smith tried to recover, putting on a disarming smile. “Oh, Mrs. Etheridge, don’t misunderstand. I just thought your fragrance was unique and wanted to know the brand so I could get some for my wife.”
He was no stranger to these situations-years in business had taught him how to talk his way through anything.
Effie forced down her disgust, her voice cool. “I’m sorry, but I don’t discuss personal matters like that with others. If you’re interested, perhaps you could ask your wife what kind of scent she prefers.”