The Platonic Trap novel Chapter 85

The wound on Celia's arm healed quickly.

In just a few days, she no longer needed the ointment.

She had been staying alone at the Stafford Villa. Alistair would occasionally call to check in on her.

But more often than not, it was Ken who texted her to see how she was doing.

Sometimes, Alistair would ask over the phone if she needed anything. Celia would always reply sweetly that she was perfectly fine and didn't lack for anything.

They actually had very few topics to discuss. His check-ins usually began and ended with whether she had eaten and reminding her to dress warmly.

Hanging up the phone, Alistair returned to signing the documents on his desk.

Inside the bright CEO's office, massive floor-to-ceiling windows offered a sweeping view of the bustling Capital.

Ken knocked and entered, sliding a folder onto Alistair's desk.

"Mr. Zucker, should we look into hiring a new chef for Ms. Stafford?"

His pen paused.

Alistair looked up, his eyes perfectly calm. "A chef?"

Ken nodded. "Yes, I just got off the phone with her. She mentioned she doesn't know how to cook, and since her previous chef went to Chrysea with Mr. Stafford, she's been stressing out over finding someone who can make food to her taste."

Alistair lowered his eyes. The pen lingered on the page for a long moment, the ink bleeding slightly at the tip of his signature.

Noticing his boss's momentary confusion, Ken quickly realized the disconnect and murmured, "Did... Ms. Stafford not mention this to you?"

Alistair shook his head and went back to his paperwork.

Ken nodded thoughtfully, totally understanding the situation. "She probably just didn't want to bother you."

"She told me she hasn't had much of an appetite lately and has just been living off takeout."

The banquet was set in the VIP penthouse suite of the Elysian Club. The venue was expansive, ultra-private, and the guest list included the most elite, old-money families in the Capital.

When Ken handed him the invitation, Alistair didn't even look up. "Decline it."

Ken hesitated. "Mr. Zucker, I heard several high-profile political officials will be in attendance. We might need to show them a little respect, right?"

At Alistair's level of influence, attending a banquet like this was entirely about whether he felt like doing them a favor.

He didn't answer immediately. He finished signing the document in front of him and glanced at his phone resting on the desk.

It had been three days since he last called her.

Just like she had promised, she never used his private number to bother him.

The initiative was entirely in his hands; he was always the one making the call.