Chapter 39

Suzan kept glancing anxiously at the door, only half-listening to Mr. Horace's rambling conversation.

Where the hell was Effie, that little witch? The tea she'd carefully prepared for her had already gone cold.

Worse yet, Suzan was finding it harder and harder to fend off Mr. Horace. The moment their other colleague had stepped out, he'd dropped any pretense of professionalism. Now he was shameless, pawing at her hand and trying to pull her into his lap.

Suzan recoiled inside. Mr. Horace was the very picture of a sleazy middle-aged man-hair thinning, belly straining against his shirt, his whole demeanor oozing nouveau riche vulgarity. He made her skin crawl.

She was starting to regret ever agreeing to come out with him. Damn it, now she was stuck in this private lounge with him, just the two of them. He looked at her like a wolf eyeing its next meal.

Suzan forced herself to stay outwardly composed, swallowing her disgust. She angled her body away from him, deftly dodging his wandering hand, and managed a strained, professional smile.

"Mr. Horace, maybe we should take a look at the contract? If you have any questions, I'd be happy to walk you through it."

hiding his annoyance at her deflection. His smile froze for a second

worry about the contract. Designer Bagnold's already explained everything—just keep me company, and I'll sign

her cool. He was an important client; if she offended him, Mitchell would never let her hear

all Effie's fault-useless

did Designer Bagnold wander off to? Let me go

and made to follow her, but someone

it's been a while." The newcomer was neatly dressed, glasses perched on his

What a surprise! Come in, have

all smiles and eager hospitality. This was Luther, Mr. Etheridge's right-hand man—a notoriously hard person to get a meeting with. Now that he'd

unreadable. "Mr. Horace, I've come on business. Mr. Etheridge's wife just discussed

only just learned that Mr. Etheridge was married, and the news had startled him. It was clear Mr. Etheridge cared

jumped out of his seat. "Wait-Mr.

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