Chapter 36
“Alright.” Mitchell gritted his teeth as he answered.
He knew there was no stopping Effie now.
He couldn’t figure out what had gotten into her-she was a completely different person these days.
Effie used to be utterly devoted to him. No matter how badly he behaved, she would always forgive him.
But this time, she was dead set on breaking up. No pleading, no games-she meant it.
At first, Mitchell thought she was just playing hard to get, but now, seeing her so determined, he realized she was serious.
Well, if he couldn’t keep her, he’d at least squeeze out whatever use he could from her before she left.
Mr. Horace was notoriously difficult—and had a reputation for being a lech. None of the other designers wanted to deal with him.
So, Mitchell deliberately tossed this thorny problem Effie’s way.
If Effie wanted out, she’d just have to handle it.
After work that evening, Effie texted Lyman to say she had a business dinner.
Lyman saw the message and, with nothing better to do at home, called up his childhood friend Vinson Elliott and a few buddies to go out for drinks.
Effie left the office with another colleague, expecting a simple evening.
She didn’t expect Suzan to tag along moments later.
“I’ll join you for the meeting,” Suzan announced.
Effie frowned slightly. Was Suzan just there to make trouble?
Why did Suzan insist on following her everywhere?
Catching Effie’s scowl, Suzan straightened her shoulders and said self-
righteously, “I’m here to supervise. Mr. Horace is one of our most important clients -we can’t afford any slip-ups.”
She sounded like she ran the place.
Of course, Suzan had volunteered herself for this.
Once she heard Effie was going, there was no way she’d miss it.
Everyone knew about Mr. Horace-his reputation preceded him. Suzan was eager to see how Effie would handle him.
Effie ignored her, heading straight for the car.
Private Dining Room, Restaurant
Effie ordered the food. A short while later, Mr. Horace arrived with his assistant.
“Mr. Horace, good evening. I’m Effie,” she greeted him politely.
Mr. Horace eyed her up and down before extending his hand. “A pleasure to meet you, Designer Bagnold.”
Effie immediately shook his hand.
She wasn’t sure if she was imagining things, but it felt like Mr. Horace’s fingers lingered, almost brushing her palm. Goosebumps prickled up her arm.
But when she glanced at him, his face was perfectly composed.
Maybe she was just being paranoid.
Once everyone was seated, waiters in crisp white shirts started bringing out the courses, gliding around the room with quiet efficiency.
Effie took the opportunity to set the contract on the table and tried to steer the conversation toward business.
But Mr. Horace glanced at her and said, “No rush, Designer Bagnold. Let’s have a drink first.”
Without waiting for her response, he poured her glass full.
Effie couldn’t refuse, so she took a sip.
“Designer Bagnold, I like your style! I always enjoy working with people who know how to have a good time. Young, beautiful, talented-you’re a rare find.” As he spoke, Mr. Horace kept making little attempts to brush her hand.
Effie instinctively pulled away.
His gaze was unmistakably lecherous, and she felt a wave of disgust rise up inside her.
Still, she forced herself to endure it.
Now she understood why Mitchell had sent her-Mr. Horace was a piece of work.
No wonder! Mitchell really was a bastard.
“Mr. Horace, you’re too kind. But perhaps we could start discussing the contract?” Effie pressed, cutting to the chase.
“No need to hurry,” Mr. Horace replied smoothly.
Off to the side, Suzan saw what was happening and slipped away to ask the waiter for some tea.
If Effie insisted on playing the prude, Suzan would just help Mr. Horace out a bit.
Soon, everyone would see-Effie was nothing but a cheap little tramp.