BookToReadChapter 50 Victoria had been ill for a while, and though her health was slowly improving, she knew she couldn't keep sending McNeil off to see Claire anymore.
She believed that a man only strayed when his needs weren't being met at home. Secretly, Violet had bought a drawer full of lacy lingerie, planning every detail. Once McNeil finally gave in to her, she was sure he'd never think about Claire again.
She'd heard that women who'd given birth often had ugly stretch marks on their bellies. She didn't want that for herself-she wasn't ready to lose her looks.
McNeil lit a cigarette. "Violet, Claire is my wife." The words had barely left his lips when he heard a faint cough from the bedroom. He hung up right away.
Violet clutched her phone, tears streaming down her face, fingers tightening until she nearly snapped the device in two.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtStaring out into the pitch-black night, she whispered to herself, "So, you two spent the whole night together, didn't you?" McNeil didn't leave Claire's place until dawn.
Claire slept until nearly nine, waking with her head pounding. She was still wearing McNeil's dress shirt, nothing underneath. As she sat up, the buttons gaped open her bra nowhere to be found.
She pressed her hand to her forehead and pulled the shirt tighter around her. Flashes of last night drifted back- she'd had a dream about McNeil, a vivid, shameless one. In her dream, they'd been together again and again. Her heart was already shattered, yet she could still dream of making love to him.
Claire couldn't help but laugh at herself-pathetic.
When she swung her legs out of bed, her knees almost buckled. Her whole body ached her head throbbed, her back was sore, and her legs trembled. She felt completely drained, as if the dream had been real.
"Claire, you were drunk last night. Mr. Garcia said you should take it easy and cin this afternoon," Ailie said, hovering in the doorway.
Memories clicked into place. Last night, she'd run into McNeil at the Barrow Club. She'd already had a few glasses of wine, and later, feeling miserable that even her own daughter refused to acknowledge her, she'd finished off half a bottle of red alone.
After that, everything was a blur-except for that dream.
But dreams, no matter how intense, always fade.
Before heading to Quantum Core Technologies, Claire stopped by her friend Simms's place to change clothes. Only then did she go to see Curtis.
As soon as she walked into the office, heads turned. Claire was strikingly beautiful, and now she'd returned as Mr. Garcia's personal assistant. It didn't take long for the whispers to start.
Curtis was famously picky when it cto hiring assistants. Claire was young, attractive, and overqualified-fueling plenty of. speculation about whether there was more between the two of them than just work.
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmBut when Curtis saw Claire arrive, he was in an unusually good mood. He gave her a quick rundown of her tasks, and she glanced over the packed schedule without complaint.
Ailie trailed after her, peeking curiously at the color-coded calendar Curtis had prepared. Her eyes a widened there was a daunting list of NO Contract proposals, one after another. Curtis's last assistant had lasted less than a week. Rumor had it, she'd told everyone that Curtis was a tyrant and his demands were downright impossible. "Hey, Ailie, you seem to know Mr. Garcia's new assistant pretty well. What's her story?" Jack from HR sidled over, eager for sgossip.
"She's my friend-a whiz with numbers," Ailie replied, not hiding her admiration. Back in their university days, Claire had been a legend, and finance was just her elective.
Jack rolled his eyes. "Con, don't try to cover for her. Is she Mr.
Garcia's new flor what? A for m financial genius? Please. We do need one around here, but last I checked, her nisn't Turner."
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