Chapter 88

Effie hurried off to her meeting and, as a result, never had a chance to look over the project brief.

By the time the meeting was over and she'd grabbed a quick lunch, the afternoon sun was already slanting through the office windows.

She was just settling in to finally review the materials when her assistant, Shirley, appeared at her door.

"Ms. Bagnold, your client is almost here. I hear she's a regular-very particular, though. Apparently, she's a dancer, but she's generous when it comes to pricing. Just a heads up: you might want to be extra careful with this one."

Shirley had a knack for knowing everything about everyone-a real office encyclopedia. She always seemed to have the inside scoop.

A dancer? The word caught Effie off guard. For some reason, Isabel's face popped into her mind.

Wasn't Isabel a dancer, too?

No, it had to be a coincidence.

Besides, there was no way Isabel would know anything about her. She was just another face in the crowd. Her marriage to Lyman was a tightly kept secret, after all.

shook off the thought. She

room? I'll head over and get everything ready," Effie

wasn't nervous—after all, she'd designed jewelry for royalty and high society

quite what they were looking for. As long as the criticism was constructive, Effie was grateful for it. That

she'd always had confidence

be difficult

at the company

striking in an understated way, carrying herself with a quiet confidence and elegance that couldn't be faked or imitated. Shirley always assumed she must come from a good background, a life of privilege, even though Effie never flaunted

talented. Shirley had seen her

course, Ms. Bagnold," Shirley nodded, then hurried off to make

sketchbook and notes,

chair when Shirley returned. "Your

to greet

moment she saw who walked through the door, she froze

got to be kidding, she thought. Speak of

Isabel.

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