He’d always had a good impression of Elodie. In the two times they’d interacted, her wit and intellect had genuinely impressed him. As the group began to tease her, he couldn’t help but chime in with a comment of his own.
As for what Alexander had said last time—he’d thought it was just a joke.
How could a woman as remarkable as Ms. Thorne possibly end up married to such a disappointing man?
But with that single remark, the mood shifted ever so slightly.
Maurice’s eyelid twitched; he shot a quick glance at Jarrod.
How did Mr. Ableson know that Elodie was married?
Even Joseph frowned, confused—Elodie was already divorced, so where had Mr. Ableson gotten his information?
“Wait, you really were married?” Naylor’s expression shifted, and suddenly he remembered—Grady Mercer had mentioned something in passing before. He’d seen Elodie and Alexander getting along so well that he’d dismissed it as a joke, but now even Mr. Ableson was saying the same thing.
Could it be true?
Did Elodie really have a husband?
He blurted out, “Who’s your husband? Someone in the industry? Is he here today?”
Elodie couldn’t be bothered to dignify Naylor’s question with a response.
She didn’t see any reason to lay her private life bare for their amusement.
Naylor’s face grew more complicated when she ignored him. Married, yet entangled with Mr. Sterling, and possibly even making eyes at Jarrod, who already had a girlfriend?
Was Elodie being fair to her husband? And Mr. Sterling—he was willing to play along?
“Yeah…” Alexander drawled, glancing around as if he hadn’t a clue, seizing the moment to add, “Is he here tonight?”
How did Elodie, a married woman, manage to attract the attention of someone as influential as Mr. Sterling? What was her secret?
Sylvie, meanwhile, cast a disdainful glance Elodie’s way, her eyes full of scorn.
Was Elodie really that insecure? Did she need to broadcast her marital status everywhere, terrified someone might actually discover the identity of her husband?
Even though she and Jarrod were already divorced, Elodie still went out of her way to wear matching watches and drop hints about her marriage—pathetic, really. The desperate flailing of someone out of their depth.
Sylvie couldn’t even be bothered to pay her any more attention.
With that thought, she turned to Jarrod beside her.
He sat with an air of effortless elegance, not even bothering to lift his eyes—utterly indifferent to the commotion.
Sylvie smiled faintly, leaned in, and nodded toward a group across the room. “Jarrod, why don’t we go chat with those CEOs in a bit?”
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