Chapter 85
Sullivan tilted his head back slightly, exsaling a stream of grey smoke. His gaze landed on Timothy with a hint of imitation. “Do I look like a clown to you?”
Timothy, cought off guard by the remark, was about to ask about Megan when Victoria sauntered over with a glass of red wine in hand She had dressed to kill that evening. Her outfit was a classy dress that embraced her femininity, and with every move, she exuded a deliberate cham.
She slid into the seat next to Sullivan, her tone familiar and light–hearted as she teased, “Why didn’t you bring Megan along, Sullivan? Ever since you two got married, she’s hardly been seen at these shindigs. What’s the matter… as big shot entrepreneur, do you think you’re too good for us, or is it your wife you’re looking down on?”
Her words were a blend of flirtation and probing. Moreover, as she spoke, she leaned close enough that her soft, pale skin brushed against Sullivan’s crisp white shirt in a barely there caress. Victoria was convinced no man could resist that
Timothy couldn’t bear to watch. He pretended not to hear and took a swig of his scotch.
Sullivan put his phone down and turned to look at Victoria, along with her rather provocative dress.
Could any man really be oblivious to a woman’s flirty hints?
Sullivan looked away and chuckled, “She’s not cut out for this scene.”
Victona, having put so much effort into her approach, was irked by his nonchalant rejection.
But then Sullivan shifted gears, “However, since y
you mentioned it, I might as well call her over. I came in such a rush I didn’t bring a present 111 have my wife make it up to you!”
The words “present” and “wife” almost made Timothy spit out his drink.
He glanced up and caught sight of Bennett, instantly understanding why Sullivan had spoken that way–it was a deliberate performance for Bennett!
True enough, Bennett looked sour
On the other side, Sullivan dialed Megan’s number, speaking with tender affection, hoping she would join Victorias birthday celebration and bring a gift along.
Victoria listened, unimpressed. She knew Megan well after many years of acquaintance and was certain Megan wouldn’t be magnanimous enough to buy her a gift. No woman would graciously shop for a rival.
But she was wrong
An hour later, Megan arrived in a chauffeured car, wearing a Dior knitted embroidered top paired with a black beaded maxi skirt–graceful and elegant with a touch of allure.
Megan handed a gift to Victona, her voice gentle, Tm so sorry, Victoria! If Sullivan had told me earlier about your birthday. I wouldn’t have had to scramble. Even though I’m late, I still want to wish you a happy birthday.”
Her words were carefully chosen to save Sullivan’s face, not a hint of resentment in her tone.
Victoria’s lips curved into a smile, “Megan, you shouldn’t have! This must have set you back a pretty penny.”
Megan’s eyes met Sullivan’s. Her gaze was tender, followed by a warm smile. “It’s Sullivan’s treat.”
The room fell silent.
They had once looked down on Megan, partly because Sullivan didn’t seem fond of her, and partly because Megan always seemed a bit childish, but now, she had transformed into the impeccable Mrs. Lowry.
In the midst of the silence, Timothy drawled, “Wasn’t someone just itching to play Truth or Dare a moment ago? H
Hey, Megan, you in? It’s
quite the thrill!”
Before Megan could respond, Victoria flipped her hair back and laughed, “Unless Sullivan can’t bear to let her.”
She was still trying to sideline Megan. She could tell from the looks the men gave Megan–there was a mix of awe and eagerness that irked her deeply
