Echoes of Unrequited Love

Chapter 37



Chapter 37

Dressed in a ducky yellow cocktail dress, with makeup on point, Cecilia still had a bit of that pampered princess vibe going on as she showed up looking all fancy.

At this swanky shindig with all the high society folks, she had no qualms about clinging to Hogan's arm. It was right then and there that the question nagging at my heart suddenly unraveled.

| figured, the only person who could make Hogan change his mind had to be Cecilia.

Funny enough, Frank knew Hogan as well.

“Mr. Zade, you are in your prime, a force to be reckoned with,” Frank complimented Hogan.

Used to such flattery, Hogan kept his cool with a mild “Glory Capital is miles ahead in the game. but we've still got heaps to learn from you, Mr. Bishop.”

Bigwigs chatting. Wallis and | knew to just stand by smartly, but then Cecilia chimed in. “So you're the famous Mr. Bishop, my apologies for not recognizing you.”

Frank glanced at Cecilia and offered a slight smile.

Wallis and | were all too familiar with that look — the haughty air unique to those at the top.

Frank was polite enough, but Cecilia still looked a bit mortified, pressing her lips together like she felt slighted. “Feeling peckish?” Hogan, sensing Cecilia’s discomfort, said, “Let’s grab a bite.”

And just like that, he smoothly changed the subject.

Slick move, giving Cecilia a way out without making a scene.

Protective as hell.

Seeing Cecilia breathe a sigh of relief, | instinctively reached for my drink but got intercepted by Darren, who asked the waiter for a juice.

“You've got a weak stomach, better to lay off the booze.”

In truth, Wallis had already watered down my wine, but Darren’s concerned look had me switching to juice anyway. Frank stood by, chuckling, “Professor Yearwood, you sure know how to treat the ladies.”

Darren didn’t bite, deftly switched the topic to some internet stuff, and | took the chance to look for Wallis. She had excused herself to the restroom earlier and hadn't come back.

| had only taken a few steps when | spotted Wallis skulking in a corner, looking all flustered.

“What's up?” | asked, puzzled.

Wallis spat out, “Talk about a run-in with bad luck, bumped into someone | know.”

“Your ex-husband?”

“Nope.” Wallis glanced towards the hall and muttered, “Simon.”

Ah, the PR manager she was scheming to poach. But business aside, how did they end up at odds? Wallis was shifty-eyed and explained, “We, uh, got a little too close for comfort.”

Took me a couple of seconds, then it clicked.

“It was supposed to be a no-strings—attached thing, but out of the blue, he says he wants to ‘talk’ again,” Wallis said with disgust, “Obviously, he’s still hoping for a free ride.”Content rights by NôvelDr//ama.Org.

Adults with mutual needs, huh? So that was one way to sum up the birds and the bees.

Seeing | didn’t respond, Wallis softened her tone, “Xaviera, | know what you're thinking. You were young, it’s normal to have illusions about love. But in this day and age, hopping into bed doesn’t mean you're bound for life, and a ring doesn’t guarantee undying loyalty, get it?”

Wallis had a whirlwind marriage and divorce, and she’d often caution me not to harbor fantasies about men. It was her words that suddenly cleared the funk I’d been in all evening.

So what | had with Hogan could be summed up in two words.

Mutual needs. Cool.

Before the banquet wrapped up, Wallis had already made her escape, and Darren, not comfortable with me going home alone, caught up with me at the hotel entrance.

“It's not late, | can manage on my own.” “Who'd feel alright letting a pretty girl like you head home solo?” | was about to decline when | saw Hogan and Cecilia emerge from the hall. That second, | changed my mind. “Thanks, Darren.” Darren and | shared the backseat. | hadn’t drunk much tonight, but shortly after getting in the car, my stomach started cramping 1. up. Darren noticed and told the driver to pull over. Moments later, embarrassingly, | found myself 12:19 Carter 37

hugging a trash can on the sidewalk, throwing up big time.


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