He Lost Me to His Best Friend novel Chapter 407

Both Scarlett and Julian paused, turning their attention toward the entrance.

Standing in the doorway was a striking woman with a sharp collarbone-length bob, flanked by two equally intimidating assistants. She had a phenomenal figure but radiated pure hostility, looking every bit like a wrathful deity ready to strike.

Scarlett's heart sank. She immediately recognized Veronica Thorne, the heiress to the wealthiest family in Sutton City.

Veronica controlled the S-Class cultural tourism town project—a massive, billion-dollar development Scarlett had been desperate to land.

They had reached a preliminary agreement, but the ink wasn't dry on the contract yet.

They were scheduled to finalize the details later today. Scarlett hadn't expected Veronica to show up hours early, right in the middle of a PR nightmare. And judging by her raised brow and aggressive posture, she hadn't come to play nice.

Scarlett's expression tightened as she evaluated the client.

Veronica, in turn, was ruthlessly sizing her up.

Her gaze swept over Scarlett from head to toe, like an X-ray scanner checking for flaws, brimming with unfiltered disdain.

So this is the woman who occupied Yardley Flynn's bed for five years?

Veronica had assumed Scarlett was just some plain, unremarkable architect. But face-to-face, she had to admit Scarlett was tall, slender, and carried an effortlessly cool, commanding presence even with minimal makeup.

She wasn't entirely average... but compared to herself? Not even close.

Retracting her haughty stare, Veronica's heels clicked sharply against the floor as she marched up to Scarlett, deliberately trying to intimidate her.

"Well, Lead Designer Langley? Have you suddenly gone mute?"

Scarlett met her gaze dead-on, her tone perfectly balanced between polite and unyielding.

"Ms. Thorne. We are currently handling the negative press. I assure you, it has absolutely no bearing on the quality of our design work. Please, let's remain professional."

"Oh, big words."

A cruel glint flashed in Veronica's eyes. She immediately went on the offensive. "Don't call me Ms. Thorne. It's Director Thorne."

"Let's go to the conference room. Designer Langley, be a dear and get me an Americano. No sugar, splash of milk. Thanks."

He looked so natural, so at ease, as if taking care of her was the most ordinary thing in the world.

Scarlett watched him, a little spellbound. Yardley would never have stooped to do something like this. He would have ordered her around without a second thought, never once caring about her dignity.

Julian walked over and handed her the tray. "The one with the heart is yours. Splash of milk, brown sugar."

Scarlett's breath hitched.

His attention to detail was staggering. He had perfectly remembered exactly how she liked her coffee.

"Thank you," she murmured, taking the tray.

Glancing down, she noticed the cup meant for Veronica bore a sharp, jagged leaf pattern.

Scarlett carried the tray into the conference room, with Julian right behind her.

Even though it was their turf, Veronica had already claimed the head of the table. She was tapping her manicured nails rhythmically against the glass surface, staring at Scarlett with unapologetic arrogance.