Chapter 456 Client’s Event

Another week had passed, and Matthew was still in a coma. Claire visited him daily, and her routine now consisted of a blend of hospital visits and mountains of work. She'd ask the doctor about Matthew's condition every single time, hoping for some kind of miracle answer.

But the doctor would always give her the same calm but frustrating response: "Matthew is stable. However, when he will wake up... we really don't know."

The uncertainty gnawed at Claire, but she pushed through. Someone had to keep things running, and for the first time, she was doing it all on her own-no Matthew to lean on, no quick advice, no snarky remarks to make her laugh through the stress. It was just her against endless paperwork and the never-ending demands of Cryptonic. Sleep became a distant memory, replaced by coffee-fueled nights and power naps that lasted five minutes, if that.

One particularly grueling afternoon, Claire was sitting at her desk, surrounded by a fortress of documents. She was mid-sip of her fifth cup of coffee for the day when Sandra knocked on the office door and poked her head in.

"Claire?" Sandra said cautiously, knowing her boss was probably running on fumes.

"What now?" Claire groaned, not even looking up from the spreadsheet she was glaring at like it had personally offended her.

Sandra stepped inside, holding a tablet. "You've got to attend the opening night for one of our client's new stores. It's a big deal."

Claire dropped her pen, slumping back in her chair with a dramatic sigh. "You're kidding me. Can't I just send flowers or, I don't know, a life-sized cardboard cutout of myself?"

Sandra smiled faintly. "It's your client, Claire. You kind of don't have a choice."

Rubbing her temples, Claire gave in. "Fine. Book me a hair and makeup stylist, and find someone to pick

an outfit because, trust me, I cannot even think about clothes right now."

As if the universe decided to intervene, a voice from behind Sandra chimed in, full of energy and unmistakably familiar. "Well, well, well! Look who's drowning in work!"

Claire looked up to see Talia, grinning like she'd just won the lottery. She was practically bouncing with excitement.

"Talia?!" Claire exclaimed, momentarily forgetting her exhaustion.

the flesh," Talia said dramatically as she stepped into the room. Behind her, a small entourage followed-two stylists, a makeup artist, and someone pushing a rack loaded with

someone else take

in disbelief. "What are you doing

know you'd never make it back to your

in defeat. "You really are

hugged warmly. It had been far too long since they'd seen each other, and Talia's presence felt

clapped her hands. "Alright, people! You know the

into position and setting up their makeup

into her chair, watching the scene with mild amusement. "This feels excessive." "Excessive?" Talia repeated, already rifling through the

the reminder," Claire muttered sarcastically,

held up a sleek black gown and

a hand dismissively. "If you handed me a potato sack, I'd wear it. Just pick

process! You'll thank me later when you're the most

said with a

worked their magic. Makeup brushes flew, hair tools buzzed, and Talia

you like this neckline?" Talia asked,

Claire replied dryly, sipping her

her eyes. "Ugh,

the dress Talia had finally chosen-a deep emerald green number that

office, Talia grinned triumphantly. "Well? What

"You're the best,

said, tossing her hair. "Now go knock 'em dead. You've got a client to impress, and I've got a spa appointment

grabbing her clutch. "Thanks, Talia. I owe you

counting?"

tiny spark of confidence creeping back in. The night ahead still felt daunting, but at least she'd face it looking like she had everything under control-even if, deep down, she knew she

see the flashing lights of cameras and the throng of photographers lining the entrance. She let out a small groan, fixing her hair in the rearview mirror as the

her breath before stepping out with her

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