Chapter 57
During a board meeting, Alfred heard that Celeste had already arrived at the office. He made a special point of slipping out midway just to see her.
He hadn’t expected to find her gazing intently at the framed wedding photo of the two of them.
Alfred’s eyes darkened, and he closed the door behind him with a quiet click.
“That picture on our marriage certificate–is it really worth such serious attention?” he asked, his tone half–teasing.
“I was just looking,” Celeste replied, caught off–guard, her laugh awkward.
Alfred’s gaze grew even more unreadable. He crossed the room, his shoes sinking into the plush carpet as he strode purposefully toward her.
“What brings you here?” he asked.
Celeste pointed to a gift box on the coffee table. “I’m here on behalf of Duncan Group, to bribe Mr. Alfred himself.”
Alfred let out a genuine laugh, as if her motives were as clear to him as daylight.
“So, how about dinner tonight?” he suggested.
Celeste couldn’t quite see the connection between her so–called “bribe” and dinner. “Aren’t you busy with work?”
Alfred rapped his knuckles on the desk in front of her, a subtle reminder. “So, you’re planning to bribe me right here in the office? Not even offering dinner?”
Before Celeste could respond, a hurried knocking sounded at the door.
“Uncle Alfred!”
Jasper burst in, a stack of documents in hand, moving at breakneck speed.
“And who is this?” he asked, immediately drawn to the striking woman standing
next to Alfred.
Celeste met his gaze, calm but slightly uneasy at the intensity of his stare.
Alfred’s voice dropped, weighted with authority. “Your aunt.”
“The one from the Duncan family?” A flash of admiration–and something like regret–flickered in Jasper’s eyes.
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He’d just heard that Celeste had made it up to the top floor, leveraging Alfred and Mack’s influence, with his own sister’s pride trampled in the process.
To be honest, Jasper hadn’t minded the idea of flirting with the pretty and sweet Beverly. But a woman who could be stepped on so easily hardly compared to one who could hold her own.
“Say hello,” Alfred commanded, catching the predatory glint in Jasper’s eyes with
ease.
Jasper stiffened, realization dawning. His expression soured, and he gave a reluctant, “Aunt Celeste.”
Alfred had already called for Mack.
“Move the meeting to tomorrow. Have someone get the car ready,” he instructed.
“Yes, sir.”
Mack couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief. Thanks to Mrs, Alfred, even the workhorses like them could finally catch a break.
Celeste slipped her arm through Alfred’s, and together they left the office.
As they made their way downstairs, Alfred spoke candidly. “You don’t have to bother with Jasper. You don’t owe him an explanation–it’s a waste of energy.”
“I wasn’t planning to,” Celeste replied lightly, scrolling through a list of restaurants on her phone. “But he is your nephew, after all. Do you have a craving for anything in particular?”
The elevator doors slid open.
Alfred took her hand, leading her toward the parking garage. “I already made a
reservation.”
Faster than me? Celeste thought in surprise. Before she could say more, she found herself comfortably seated in Alfred’s car.
Twenty minutes later, they stepped into a French restaurant, where the melodies of violin and piano soared to the vaulted ceiling. Candlelight flickered among red roses, and a little Cupid atop a marble fountain spun nearby, his bow and arrow pointed–uncannily–toward the pair of them.
Oblivious to the statue’s aim, Celeste’s attention was caught by the sumptuous fare set before them.
“I remember this place is nearly impossible to book, but their foie gras is fantastic,”
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she remarked.
“As long as you like it.”
“I was supposed to be the one treating, but you’ve orchestrated the whole evening. just keep owing you more and more,” Celeste said, but that didn’t stop her from
digging in with gusto.
