Sylvie stepped out of Jarrod's office, and the other assistants from the secretary's team hurried over, one respectfully taking her bag. "Ms. Fielding, Mr. Silverstein is waiting for you in the dining room for lunch. He asked us to bring you over as soon as you're rested."
"This is the coffee Mr. Silverstein prepared for you, so you can enjoy it on the way."
Sylvie's gentle face wore only the faintest smile as she accepted the attention with practiced grace. She radiated calm confidence—a woman who belonged exactly where she stood, with everyone around her treating her as the boss's future wife.
Elodie couldn't help but be surprised. Jarrod's office was a fortress of confidential documents, strictly off-limits to almost everyone. Yet for Sylvie, it had become a private lounge, every detail arranged for her comfort. Elodie thought of how, in three years of living together, she'd never even been allowed into his study at home.
Love or indifference—was there ever really any need to keep questioning it?
"Ms. Thorne, could you please step aside?" Keith, Jarrod's assistant, sounded annoyed as he pointed out Elodie was blocking Sylvie's way.
Elodie pressed her lips together. Even though she'd long stopped caring, this blatant double standard still stung—a reminder of how invisible she'd been, how much she'd given for nothing.
She lowered her head and stepped away, turning to Keith. "If Jarrod has a free moment, could you remind him to approve my res—"
"Jarrod?"
Sylvie, already at the elevator, seemed to notice Elodie for the first time when she heard his first name.
Her expression was cool, thoughtful. "Is she an employee here?"
Elodie frowned. Sylvie knew who she was, but maybe not that she worked for The Silverstein Group.
Keith jumped in, "Yes, she's Ms. Thorne from PR."
Sylvie's gaze drifted away, her tone flat. "That explains it."
Of course PR didn't want to handle her reputation crisis. It made sense if Elodie was the one in question.
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