Chapter 5: Scandal, Secrets, and Cufflinks
At the launch party, everyone could tell Mason was in a bad mood.
Emily wore a pale pink dress, as delicate as a rose.
She smiled innocently, showing no trace of our earlier confrontation. Like nothing ever happened.
"Looking forward to working with you," she chirped.
Not far away, Mason seemed to finally spot Emily and walked over.
Emily sighed, troubled. "That’s Mason for you—always worried someone will pick on me."
"But I have to thank Ms. Foster, otherwise I couldn’t get so close to Mason." She shot me a sly smile.
Mason glanced at me, put his arm around Emily’s waist.
"Let’s go, don’t keep others waiting."
His tone was as gentle as a lover’s. It stung.
Emily blushed and nodded.
Carter came over and saw me still staring at their backs in a daze. He asked, "Regret it?"
I shook my head. "No regrets."
When I left so decisively, I was ready for Mason to hate me.
Now, things were actually better than I imagined.
I was assigned to Mason and Emily’s table.
Emily’s sweet voice drifted over. "Mason, I can’t drink anymore, can you help me?"
I looked up.
The assistant director, halfway through a toast, looked awkward in front of Emily.
Mason frowned, quietly avoided her hand. "If you can’t drink, then don’t."
Then he clinked glasses with the assistant director. "Thank you for your hard work."
The assistant director wiped sweat from his forehead and slipped away.
Emily’s face twisted, her lips pressed into a thin, angry line.
Mason tried to make up for it, picking out Maine lobster for her. "Just flown in today, eat up."
Her face got even tighter, cheeks blotchy with frustration.
A young actor whispered, "Mr. Whitmore, Ms. Lane is allergic to shellfish."
Mason’s chopsticks paused.
Emily forced a smile. "It’s okay, I like lobster. Didn’t think Mason would remember."
She seemed to be sulking, and ate all the lobster Mason gave her.
Soon, little red rashes appeared at the corners of her mouth.
Assistants hurriedly helped her to the lounge.
Mason followed too.
"Looks like Mr. Whitmore really likes Emily. You can see the worry on his face."
"Emily is so lucky—just her looks got her Mr. Whitmore!"
"Stop talking, she’s still here."
Amid the noise, I took the chance to eat a few pieces of Maine lobster.
Very tender, very sweet.
Just my taste.
With the drinks flowing, after a few rounds I held my dizzy head, told my assistant, and went to the terrace for air. The night air was cool on my cheeks.
Passing by the lounge, I heard a tense confrontation inside.
It was Emily and Mason.