The French bistro Vivian picked sat just two blocks away from the city's major studio lot. Noelle arrived early, choosing a secluded corner table by the floor-to-ceiling windows to review supplier files while she waited.
She had barely set her tablet down when a sharp shadow fell across her table.
"Why did you block my number?"
Patrick Jordan stood over her, his tailored suit immaculate, his face tight with furious disbelief. Just behind his shoulder, Charley Jenkins hung back near the entrance, trying and failing to look inconspicuous behind oversized designer shades. It was painfully obvious who had chosen this particular romantic spot.
Over the years, the man hardly ever reached out—unless he needed money. That particular disaster had ended with her laying down the law: he could borrow cash only if he married her. The only other calls had come when Charley Jenkins spread those nasty rumors, and Patrick rang up demanding to know why she was hurting an innocent girl.
So why the hell was he calling now?
A sudden thought hit her. "Did you call to tell me you've got time to hit the courthouse today?"
Patrick went quiet. Why did every word out of her mouth lately revolve around divorce? And why did she sound so damn cheerful about it? He'd figured she'd just crash with the Kelleys for a bit, kick up a fuss, and then come home. That's how it always went.
Instead of answering, he threw the question back at her. "What are you doing at some romantic restaurant in the middle of the day, all by yourself?"
"Well, what else do you do at a restaurant besides eat?" Noelle sensed something off and shot back, "And aren't you here too, Patrick? How dare you question me?"
Charley had picked the place, claiming it was close to the film set. Patrick only clocked that it was a romantic spot once he'd arrived, and he'd already asked Charley to switch venues to dodge any unnecessary drama.
Noelle let out a helpful little reminder. "Patrick, you might want to watch yourself when you're dining with your girlfriend. Try not to get snapped by the paparazzi. If word leaks that the Jordan-Kelley alliance blew up because you were cheating, the Jordan Group's stock is gonna tank—and that'd be embarrassing for everyone involved."
Patrick didn't appreciate the jab. "Don't call her my girlfriend. Charley Jenkins has never come between us."
On the contrary, Charley was a total sweetheart. She kept a low profile even during their meal, and she kept urging him to head home early so his family wouldn't worry.
Noelle arched an eyebrow, a mischievous smile tugging at her lips. "Of course, she's never come between us! You should be blaming me for getting in the way of you two, right? But you can't blame me. Your precious muse turned you down and went abroad to study. The second she heard you'd married me, she came running back."
The truth was, Charley never imagined Patrick would marry into another family just for benefits. Why play these little games, only to scramble back later, hoping to pick up the scraps?
Patrick's face went dark. "Who are you here with?"
"None of your business!"
Before he could push further, Charley's call came through. Noelle smiled sadly. She'd once begged Patrick to spend more time with her, but he always claimed he was too busy. Apparently, he was only ever busy when it came to her—yet he somehow had time for a midday lunch date with Charley.
Once, Charley had bragged right in front of Noelle about being a VIP at several luxury hotels. It had made Noelle so furious she'd fainted on the street. She'd been so naive back then.
As Patrick got ready to leave, moving to another spot without saying a word to Noelle, she called out quickly, "Can we finalize the divorce this afternoon?"
He shot her a glare. "We agreed on Monday. What's the rush?"
"If it's not urgent, then why'd you call last night?"
Patrick walked off without answering. He didn't want to admit he'd called because she wasn't home waiting for him with dinner on the table. Ridiculous. Her cooking was worse than takeout anyway, and he wasn't interested. The idea of getting caught by the media for cheating was just absurd.
But as he mulled it over, something else nagged at him. Could Noelle have planned to meet some college sweetheart here? Just the thought stoked his anger.
He slid into his car and told his assistant, Elina Taylor, "Find someone to tail Noelle and see who she's been hanging out with lately."
Elina shot him a knowing look and nodded.
***
Vivian Carter arrived fashionably late, carrying her limited-edition handbag and taking those delicate little steps. "Sorry, Noelle, sweetie, I'm late," she fluttered her eyes dramatically, pleading for forgiveness. "I went all out for this lunch and took forever getting ready. Can you ever forgive me?"
Vivian was working under an assumed name at a small subsidiary owned by her family, where she'd met the man who would later ruin her life. Given the chance to prevent that, Noelle was determined to keep that nightmare from ever repeating.
Thrilled to reconnect with her lifelong friend, Noelle grabbed Vivian's hand eagerly. "I forgive you."
"Hmph!" Vivian pouted. "But I won't forgive you, Noelle. You and your husband have been so busy you never even thought to invite me out. Why suddenly ask me to lunch now? Aren't you always wrapped up with your 'dear Patrick'?"
"Not anymore. I swear I'll make more time for you."
Vivian looked skeptical. Noelle came clean. "I'm getting a divorce. And as of today, I'm officially joining the Kelley Group to run a project."
The news hit Vivian like a truck, leaving her completely speechless. As Noelle's best friend since childhood, Vivian knew all too well how much Noelle adored Patrick. She'd loved him for years—even knowing he had feelings for someone else—and still chose to marry him. Why the sudden change of heart?
Once the shock wore off, Vivian scooted over next to Noelle and wrapped her in a tight hug. "Don't be sad. You can just marry into my family instead. I'll make my brother marry you!"
Noelle chuckled at that. "Stop joking around. Tell me about the info I asked you to dig up."
Vivian let her go and opened up her chat with her brother on messaging app, showing Noelle a screenshot he'd sent. "This is a contract with one of your family's suppliers."
The total contract was ten times larger than the Majestic Estate project, yet its per-unit cost was somehow even higher than the rate Damir Palmer had negotiated. That didn't add up. The larger the contract, the lower the per-unit price should have been—not higher. How could buying a whole cartload cost more per apple than buying one?
Putting the pieces together with what she knew was coming, Noelle understood. The relocation delay was because Damir had been embezzling settlement funds to pay off suppliers. He was paying suppliers as much as—or even more than—other families, but he insisted on keeping the contractual amount low. By presenting these artificially low figures to the board, he looked like a genius, landing more projects and siphoning off even more cash. A classic case of robbing Peter to pay Paul.
No wonder the Kelley Group eventually fell into Noelle's hands as an empty shell.
Furious at the revelation, Vivian fumed, "Damir is such a backstabber, lining his own pockets at the Kelley Group's expense!"
Noelle's eyes gleamed with cold, steely resolve. "I won't let him get away with it."
