Chapter 902 Persona Non-Grata

"Where's Mr. Brighthall?” Mrs. Engel asked. "Why isn't here with us?"

Deirdre seemingly blinked back to attention. "He, uh, said there’s a lot of things at work pending his attention for the moment, so he's not going to join us. Just send his portion upstairs." "That busy, huh?"

Deirdre thinned her lips. 'The company is going through a massive purge, Mrs. Engel. He needs to ensure that every single position is being occupied by someone reliable and trustworthy, which means he's now an even bigger micromanager. It's only normal for him to be so... busy." "I see," Mrs. Engel replied noncommittally before muttering, "Gosh, it isn’t easy to found a business, right? I'll immediately bring his portion upstairs before Mr. Brighthall gnaws on his fingernails out of hunger." "Alright."

Deirdre finished her dinner alone.

Brendan did not step into her room all night.

"I was thinking if we should put these two couches side-by-side.” The

by a series of heels clicking on the floor. A leaned, toned silhouette took form in her blurry sight. Deirdre could tell from the way the

Engel's expression darkened. "What

"What am

woman’s heart

kidding me!?' Mrs. Engel was apoplectic. "Recuperate from what? You ain't sick anywhere but in your head! This house is for Mr. Brighthall and Mrs. Brighthall. This is their private residence! Who

be incarcerated, and

height of Mrs. Engel's decorum. It did not mean

place hasn't changed at all for nine years! Urgh, it totally needs a makeover. If I tell Bren I like it to look like

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