Annabelle had always been one of Patrick Jordan's admirers—unfortunately for her, she had never managed to win his heart. To Patrick, she was simply a capable employee whose value he could exploit. Annabelle dressed for attention as often as she dressed for the office, favoring blouses so fitted that the buttons looked ready to give. She was sharp and competent at work, but hopelessly naive when it came to men.
Patrick clearly preferred the Charley Jenkins type—and later, Elina Taylor—women who fit the modest, understated mold he liked. Annabelle's blatant seduction attempts, complete with those overworked shirt buttons, only made her less appealing in his eyes.
Of course, Noelle Kelley wasn't exactly in a position to judge Annabelle's lack of self-awareness. Even though she understood Patrick's preferences perfectly, she'd never been able to capture his attention either. Patrick's disdain for her wasn't something she could just charm away with a few kind gestures.
Standing with her back ramrod straight and a dismissive look on her face, Annabelle said to Noelle, "Mr. Jordan is busy. He's not seeing anyone right now."
Annabelle had joined the Jordan Group straight out of college and quickly climbed her way into Patrick's favor. From the moment she started working for him, she'd been well aware of Noelle Kelley—the pampered heiress supposedly head-over-heels for Patrick. Noelle, a student at a top university, never took her studies seriously. She'd skip class to show up at Patrick's office, just to gawk at the handsome executive. She'd pressured him into marriage, then dropped out entirely to become a full-time housewife.
To Annabelle, a devoted career woman, being a housewife was the ultimate cop-out. All that talk about doing it for the family or the kids? Excuses. Pure laziness. Despite Noelle's money and background, Annabelle saw her as nothing more than a frivolous homemaker. Noelle had supposedly wasted her days on dusting and on remembering whether Patrick liked his steak medium-rare or well-done. Annabelle dismissed that as pointless domestic fussing. Did she really think a woman's worth could be measured by how well she cooked a steak? Noelle might never have run a kitchen, but that hardly made her less capable than a Michelin-starred chef.
Annabelle thought Noelle was just a pretty face, riding on her youth and looks. No wonder Patrick wasn't interested.
Adjusting her sunglasses, Noelle shot Annabelle a wide smile. She hadn't seen her in a while. But Annabelle's reign wouldn't last—soon, Elina Taylor would swoop in and take her spot as Patrick's favorite assistant. Facing someone like Annabelle, who was only tough on the surface, Noelle stepped forward. She was done being pushed around. "Patrick may not like me," she said coolly, "but he still has to treat me with respect. You don't have the authority to stop me, Annabelle."
In the old days, Noelle would've been terrified of Annabelle because of her close ties to Patrick. She'd worried that ticking off Annabelle would only make Patrick despise her more. As a result, even Patrick's other secretaries had felt bold enough to disrespect Noelle. Annabelle's sneers mirrored Noelle's own regret—the regret of throwing away good opportunities for a love that was never reciprocated.
Caught off guard by Noelle's sudden assertiveness, Annabelle frowned. Who did Noelle think she was? Just because Patrick married her, she thought she was queen of the Jordan Group? Dream on.
Annabelle's voice turned stern. "I only answer to Mr. Jordan. If you want, you can try your luck with the security guards upstairs."
She was confident Patrick would never scold her for blocking his wife. Noelle meant nothing to him.
Noelle raised an eyebrow.
Was that a threat? Too bad for Annabelle—Noelle was over Patrick. His little minions didn't scare her anymore.
"Annabelle," Noelle said slyly, stepping closer, "you might stop a wife from seeing her husband. But let me ask you something." Her tone was light, almost playful. "I've heard that executive-level secretaries here are supposed to have a graduate degree. Is it true that you bought your MBA certificate, Annabelle?"
Annabelle's face went white. Her skin prickled with panic.
How... how did she know?
She'd never told anyone. Not even her parents, who were still back home bragging about their daughter's fancy degree. How had Noelle—the woman she'd always pegged as naive—stumbled onto a secret like this?
At a university recruitment fair, Annabelle had been hooked on Patrick at first sight. She'd spent heavily to obtain the credentials she needed, making sure she could land a position close to him. She'd worked her ass off to become head secretary. And if Patrick ever found out her credentials were fake... would he ever forgive her?
Annabelle couldn't afford that risk.
Her voice shook with fury and humiliation. "Have you been investigating me?"
"Aha," Noelle smiled. "So it's true."
She remembered how, when Elina eventually ousted Annabelle, rumors had floated around that Elina had uncovered evidence of Annabelle's fake credentials. But hardly anyone believed it. Annabelle's work performance was solid—matched her supposed education perfectly. Who would suspect the head secretary of such a glaring vulnerability?
After years of juggling work and study, anyone should have been able to earn a legitimate degree. Why risk everything on a fake one?
But Noelle believed it.
Annabelle's packed schedule left zero room for part-time classes. Lucky for Noelle, her guess had been spot-on.
"..." Annabelle realized, too late, that she'd been outsmarted by the woman she'd considered a fool.
"Move!" Noelle shoved Annabelle aside, her voice ice-cold. "If you block me again, I'll tell Patrick about your fake degree. But if you cooperate with me? Maybe I'll let it slide."
A threat? Two could play that game.
Annabelle clenched her fists, but she couldn't stop Noelle as she marched toward Patrick's office.
Just before entering, Noelle turned back and winked at Annabelle, tossing out a piece of advice. "Annabelle, when you have time, go earn that graduate certificate. Just because I won't expose you doesn't mean someone else won't. Patrick will only ever see you as a workhorse. Stop building your life around men. Investing in yourself is the real answer."
Those words were as much for herself as they were for Annabelle.
Not that Annabelle saw it that way. To her, it was just another threat.
Back at her desk, Annabelle buried herself in work. She couldn't let her guard down—the second she did, the junior secretaries would snatch her position. She had to find a way to make sure Noelle kept her secret. Did that mean she had to obey Noelle's every order? Annabelle wasn't buying it.
*
Patrick heard the door open and assumed it was his secretary. "Just leave the signed documents on my desk."
"It's me."
Patrick looked up from his work, his gaze landing on Noelle with obvious disapproval. "Who let you in?"
His distaste was written all over his face. He was about to dismiss her when Noelle spoke up.
