We Want Mommy Not You Daddy (Cedar) novel Chapter 88

Chapter 88

Everyone who walks through these doors seems transformed, as if the space itself bestows an aura of importance. No wonder people Sght for positions he

I approach the reception desk, trying to ignore the flutter of nervousness in my stomach, “Excuse me, could you tell me which floor Mr. Sterling’s office is

on?

The receptionist–sleek blonde hair, immaculate makeup looks up from her computer with practiced indifference, Do you have an appointment?

‘No, I’m here to deliver something to Mr. Sterling.” I hold up the charger in my hand.

She examines me from head to toe, her gaze lingering on my modest blazer and pants. I see the judgment forming behind her eyes.

A delivery? What sort of delivery? Her tone has cooled significantly.

I place Ridley’s charger on the polished granite countertop. “This.”

The receptionist’s perfectly shaped eyebrows arch higher as her lips curve into a barely concealed smirk. I know exactly what she’s thinking.

I’ve spent years as the Wright family’s afterthought, enduring countless dismissive glances and thinly veiled contempt. This woman’s disdain is nothing new.

“I’m sorry,” she says with artificial politeness, “but without an appointment, you can’t go upstairs. You’ll need to schedule one and return later.”

I meet her gaze steadily. “Mr. Sterling specifically asked me to bring this. Perhaps you should call up and verify?”

She gives a short, humorless laugh. “If I called Mr. Sterling every time someone claimed he was expecting them, I’d never get anything done. If he’s truly expecting you, I suggest you call him yourself.”

Fine. I pull out my phone, find Ridley’s contact, and initiate a voice call.

“Mr. Sterling, I’m in the lobby of your headquarters. The receptionist won’t allow me upstairs. Could you come down, please?” My voice is cool and professional as I end the call.

The receptionist doesn’t bother hiding her eye roll. I don’t blame her for her skepticism. In her world, people with direct access to Ridley don’t look like me.

I stand silently, waiting. The lobby bustles around us, business conversations and clicking heels creating a symphony of corporate ambition.

Then the crowd parts, and there he is.

Ridley emerges from the elevator bank, his imposing figure drawing every eye in the vast space. His tailored charcoal suit accentuates broad shoulders, the crisp white shirt a stark contrast against his tanned skin. Even from a distance, his presence commands attention.

I notice the receptionist’s eyes widen in disbelief as he strides directly toward me.

There’s something in his expression I can’t quite place–a hint of amusement, perhaps? As if he’d been watching the entire exchange and found it entertaining.

I straighten my posture as he approaches, professional mask firmly in place. “Mr. Sterling, here’s your charger. I should get back to work now.”

Ridley takes the charger, his fingers brushing mine for the briefest moment. “Perfect timing, Ms. Wright. Come upstairs–we need to discuss the details about

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833 pm

Chapter 88

The design exhibition.”

We’ve already finalized most aspects of the design exhibition proposal, but questioning Ridley isn’t an option. I nod and follow him toward the elevators.

As we reach the elevator, Ridley suddenly stops and turns, his gaze ice–cold as it lands on the receptionist.

“Yes, Mr. Sterling? she stammers, color draining from her face.

Ms. Wright is to be given immediate access whenever she arrives. Understood?”

“Of course, Mr. Sterling!

Special treatment? Really? That wasn’t going to make things awkward at all. Now people were definitely going to talk about us. I honestly didn’t want to keep coming back here anyway.

He better not think this gave him a free pass to call me in whenever he wanted. This was getting way too complicated.

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