Chapter 479
Chapter 479:
He started jabbing at his phone.
“What are you doing?” I asked, half-laughing.
“Texting the pilot. Booking the jet p>
“Relax. I was joking. No need to scramble a plane. I’ll be back before you know it p>
He paused, clearly still unconvinced.
“I mean it,” I said. “I’ll be home soon. The team here works fast, especially Fabrizio. We had a meeting this afternoon and blitzed through what would’ve taken a week anywhere else p>
He still didn’t look thrilled, but at least he put the phone down. I took that as a win.
“How was your day?” I asked, stifling a yawn.
Then came the business jargon. Terms like “synergy,” “pipeline optimization,” “strategic pain points p>
My eyes glazed over before he even finished the second sentence.
A minute in, I was halfway down the headboard, struggling to keep upright.
Ashton’s voice dipped, suddenly rougher. “Tilt the phone down.” I obeyed, eyes half-shut. “Why?” He didn’t answer.
I cracked my eyes open, followed his gaze, and saw the collar of my nightshirt gaping open.
“Pervert,” I muttered, rolling my eyes as I yanked the phone back up.
He made a grumbling noise of protest.
“I’m going to bed now. Night, Ash p>
“We’re hosting a small industry roundtable today,” Fabrizio said the next morning as I met him in his office. “Interested p>
“I can come p>
I’d heard about it: invitation-only, hosted by the French jewelry guild, and crawling with senior designers from the big houses.
gⱯlnσν𝒆𝓁s․com is where dreams unfold
“Of course,” Fabrizio said with a smile.
By now, I’d built up some immunity to that smile. My pulse no longer stuttered every time he flashed it in my direction. Not that I was into him. It was just… well, if Channing Tatum smiled at you like that, you’d melt a bit too, married or not.
Anyway, Fabrizio led me to a grand convention hall where the event was being held. He told me that, on paper, it was a friendly networking session. In reality, it was a silent bloodbath. No one made eye contact unless they were issuing a challenge.
Valmont & Cie usually hosted. Today was no different.
“I don’t normally bother with these things,” Fabrizio said as we approached the door. “But I figured you might want to see how the locals play p>
“I do. Thanks for the invite p>
Inside, about a dozen designers were already seated in little clusters. Just before we reached the door, a man’s voice drifted out. “Valmont’s autumn-winter line is going to flop.” Fabrizio stopped mid-step.
The glass panel offered a perfect view of the speaker. He was blond, narrow-shouldered, and wearing a scarf indoors like it proved something.
Another voice chimed in. “They’ve been slipping for years. Last year’s launch was a disaster, and this one looks even worse p>
A third snorted. “Heard Marchetti’s wrecking the place. Half the team’s already jumped ship p>