Chapter 8
“April? Isn’t she Evelina’s agent? What does she want with you?”
“She wants to set up a songwriting session.”
“For Evelina? Wow, talk about dropping 100 grand right off the bat.”
“Uh–huh,” Lizetta nodded and casually blacklisted April’s number.
Yolanda couldn’t help but crack up, “Evelina’s got some nerve, with her mediocre chops!”
Lizetta dropped her bags off at Yolanda’s place and hopped a cab to Starlight.
The Dashiell Group, a hundred–year–old empire, was like an aging aircraft carrier showing its flaws, hard to turn around. Eight years back, Remington made some bold moves, carving out the Starlight Group from the Dashiell. Group, infusing it with fresh lifeblood.
Under his guidance, the Starlight Group rode the waves, gobbling up growth at a pace that left the Dashiell Group in the dust.
Nowadays, the Dashiell Group was still in the hands of Remington’s dad, Nathan, but it was Remington who was the star player at the helm of the Starlight Group, outshining his old man. They said he was the heir of the Dashiell Group, but it was pretty clear they were riding on his coattails now.
A year ago, Fiona, wanting to foster some marital bonding, had Lizetta join the Starlight Group’s president’s office as a lowly clerk.
The office was buzzing today, with secretary Lydia handing out wedding candies because she was pregnant and leaving.
Lizetta snagged some candy, offering her congrats. Back at her desk, she started typing up her resignation letter.
Lydia spotted this and blurted out in surprise, “Lizetta, you got a bun in the oven too?”
All eyes were on her, as usual. Beauties always got the spotlight.
Since Lizetta started, her looks had drawn a slew of admirers, till Remington caught sight of her desk buried in roses and was in a funk for days.
Declaring herself married had finally fended off the suitors, though nobody knew she was hitched to Remington.
“Nope, I’m quitting for a different reason.”
“So when are you guys planning on having kids? Makes sense, you’re still young.”
“I’d love to start early, get back in shape sooner rather than later, but oh well.” Lizetta kept typing away, casually responding.
But Lydia, ever so perceptive, got the wrong end of the stick, “Your hubby’s shooting blanks?”
“Not exactly, he’s quite capable; it’s just that it’s all for naught.”
Lydia was gobsmacked.
“You mean your man’s got azoospermia?! And bad breath on top of that? Girl, you gotta know when to cut your losses.”
Previously, Lydia had seen a couple kissing in the parking lot and thought the woman looked like Lizetta, so she asked if it was Lizetta’s hubby picking her up.
Lizetta had joked that she and her husband had never kissed, which somehow spiraled into the office joke that her husband had severe halitosis.
1/2
Chapter 8
Now, with no way to clear the air, Lizetta found herself saddled with another rumor. She gotta hand it to Lydia for her top–notch reading comprehension skills.
As Lizetta thought of Remington’s cold, aristocratic face and slapped this new label on him, she couldn’t suppress a snort.
“Is this how you work now? The Starlight Group doesn’t pay you to loaf around!”
Lizetta turned to see the stony–faced Remington, her smile freezing on her face.
Cedric, who knew Lizetta’s true identity, had spoken up, and then glanced at the boss nervously, breaking out in a cold sweat.
Lydia went pale. The boss‘ aura was just like some drama’s leading man.
Worried Lydia might be startled, Lizetta was about to intervene when Remington spoke up, “Thanks for your hard work. Hand out the resignation bonus; might as well spread some joy.”
After he instructed Cedric, Lydia quickly thanked him, relieved. The tension in the room melted away, but the man’s frosty gaze was locked on Lizetta.
“Lizetta, come in for a sec,” he walked into his office.
“Good Lord, Mr. Dashiell is as charming as ever.” Lydia nudged Lizetta, “You’re so gorgeous; why not ditch your sterile hubby and go for Mr. Dashiell?”
“Lizetta? Yeah right, she’s been under Mr. Dashiell’s nose for a year. If he was interested, would he wait till now?”
“Don’t you follow the news? Mr. Dashiell and Ms. Hawthorne are often seen together.”
“Mr. Dashiell must be in love. Getting some of Lydia’s good fortune must mean he’s planning to have kids with Ms. Hawthorne, right?”
Lizetta felt the sting of their casual remarks.
It was not like she’d just been there a year. When she was born, just three days old, Remington had visited the hospital with Fiona and even held her, only to be peed on by the tiny girl.
So really, she’d been “around” for twenty–two years. No love was just that, no love. There wouldn’t be a day of it
in her lifetime.
After printing out her resignation letter, Lizetta walked into his office.
The man sat behind his desk, looking through documents, exuding an air of noble detachment. Without even lifting his head at the sound of her footsteps, he asked coldly, “Is this how you reflect?”
Before the echo faded, Lizetta placed two documents in front of him. One was a divorce agreement, the other her resignation letter.
“Mr. Dashiell, if you could sign both, that would be great. Thanks.”
