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.”

put so much effort into her approach, was irked

Sullivan shifted gears, “However,

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

and “wife” almost made Timothy

instantly understanding why Sullivan had spoken that way–it was a deliberate

Bennett looked sour

affection, hoping she would join Victorias

and was certain Megan wouldn’t be magnanimous enough to buy her a gift. No woman would graciously shop for

she was

knitted embroidered top paired with a black beaded maxi skirt–graceful and elegant with

Sullivan had told me earlier about your birthday. I wouldn’t have had to scramble. Even though I’m late, I still

chosen to save Sullivan’s face, not a hint of resentment

into a smile, “Megan, you shouldn’t have! This must have set

met Sullivan’s. Her gaze was tender, followed by a