Outside the door, she could even hear Yvette's gentle coaxing: "Tristan, don't be mad. Come on, eat up. I had a bite and it's delicious! Too bad I'm hopeless in the kitchen..."
She didn't catch his response, only Yvette's bright, happy laughter.
He must have said something sweet to coax her, or perhaps initiated something much more intimate.
After all, Yvette was dressed incredibly sexy today, and as a healthy, full-blooded man, there was no way he was just going to look and not touch.
Nova thought...
Thank God. Thank God she had known when to turn back and pull her feelings away, otherwise she would be the one drowning in heartbreak.
She tilted her head back and took a deep breath.
Stepping off the elevator, the receptionist suddenly rushed over to her.
"Excuse me, miss, but top management just issued a directive. From today onward, anyone not employed by Forrester Group is barred from the premises. Please leave immediately, or we'll be forced to escort you out."
Nova's heart constricted. She couldn't stop herself from asking, "What about Yvette Sellers?"
The receptionist was new and didn't recognize her, especially since Nova was wearing a mask and sunglasses.
"Ms. Sellers is our CEO's partner, the future Mrs. Forrester. How could you possibly compare yourself to her? She is the exception to Mr. Forrester's rule. He said so himself!"
Yvette was his exception.
He had said it himself.
A wave of nausea washed over Nova.
She hurried out the front doors of the corporate building and jogged over to the planters, dry-heaving violently, though nothing came up.
Just then, a warm hand gently patted her back, helping her catch her breath.
"You must be pregnant," the woman said as Nova continued to gag. "Morning sickness is exactly like this!"


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