Missing Mrs. Lowry: The Billionaire’s Wakeup Call

Chapter 85

Sullivan tilted his head back slightly, exsaling a stream of grey smoke. His gaze landed on Timothy with a hint of imitation. “Do I look like a clown to you?”

Timothy, cought off guard by the remark, was about to ask about Megan when Victoria sauntered over with a glass of red wine in hand She had dressed to kill that evening. Her outfit was a classy dress that embraced her femininity, and with every move, she exuded a deliberate cham.

She slid into the seat next to Sullivan, her tone familiar and light–hearted as she teased, “Why didn’t you bring Megan along, Sullivan? Ever since you two got married, she’s hardly been seen at these shindigs. What’s the matter… as big shot entrepreneur, do you think you’re too good for us, or is it your wife you’re looking down on?”

Her words were a blend of flirtation and probing. Moreover, as she spoke, she leaned close enough that her soft, pale skin brushed against Sullivan’s crisp white shirt in a barely there caress. Victoria was convinced no man could resist that

Timothy couldn’t bear to watch. He pretended not to hear and took a swig of his scotch.

Sullivan put his phone down and turned to look at Victoria, along with her rather provocative dress.

Could any man really be oblivious to a woman’s flirty hints?

Sullivan looked away and chuckled, “She’s not cut out for this scene.”

so much effort into her approach, was irked

shifted gears,

call her over. I came in such a rush I didn’t bring a present 111 have my wife make it up

“present” and “wife” almost made Timothy spit

sight of Bennett, instantly understanding why Sullivan had spoken that way–it was a deliberate performance

enough, Bennett looked

Megan’s number, speaking with tender affection, hoping she would join Victorias birthday celebration and bring a gift

She knew Megan well after many years of acquaintance and was certain Megan wouldn’t be magnanimous enough to buy her a gift. No woman would graciously shop for

was wrong

hour later, Megan arrived in a chauffeured car, wearing a Dior knitted embroidered top paired with a black beaded maxi skirt–graceful and elegant with a

gift to Victona, her voice gentle, Tm so sorry, Victoria! If Sullivan had told me earlier about your birthday. I wouldn’t have had to scramble. Even though I’m late, I still want to wish you a happy

face, not a hint of resentment in her

“Megan, you shouldn’t have! This must

followed by a warm smile. “It’s Sullivan’s treat.”