Chapter 3

Ever since the incident in the parking lot, Sandy had been much better behaved. She no longer went out of her way to provoke me.

I stuck to my routine, worked diligently, and kept negotiating deals. Eventually, all that hard work started to pay off.

My latest prospect was a stylish design studio run by a couple from Ferasia. Since I'd studied in Ferasia before, I could communicate with them effortlessly.

Combined with the extensive preparation I'd done, my efforts had brought the deal so close to completion that Claire Dubois and Adrien Moreau had practically agreed to entrust us with their annual marketing campaign.

My supervisor, Jacob Langdon, called me into his office with a broad smile.

"Winona, great job! However, management has decided that Sandy will take the lead on this project, with you assisting her. Don't worry, your name will still be on the list of people who contributed."

"I've been handling this project from the start," I countered with a frown. "Now that we're on the verge of closing the deal, you're suddenly replacing me? What exactly is that supposed to mean?"

Mr. Langdon looked slightly embarrassed.

"Winona, don't blame me for this," he said in a low voice. "Everyone in the company knows Sandy is the Melville heiress getting some hands-on experience at the ground level."

That made everything clear. He was trying to curry favor with Sandy.

Putting a deal I'd practically secured under her name was the quickest way to prove his loyalty.

When I returned to the office, Mr. Langdon announced this so-called good news to everyone.

Just as I'd expected, my colleagues watched me with a mix of pity and barely concealed amusement, waiting for the woman they considered all show and no substance to lose her temper, protest, or make a scene.

Sandy, meanwhile, stood up and put on a show of humility.

"Thank you for trusting me, Mr. Langdon. And thank you, Winona, for all the groundwork you've done. I'll do my best."

Looking at her, I suddenly smiled.

To everyone's astonishment, I was the first to start applauding. My claps rang out clearly through the otherwise quiet office.

"Congratulations, Sandy!" My voice was bright, my smile sincere. "You're certainly setting the standard for everyone in this department! You've barely arrived, and you've already landed such an important deal.

"Surely an achievement this big deserves a celebratory dinner. Give the rest of us a chance to share in your luck, Ms. Melville!"

My reaction caught everyone off guard.

A few colleagues who were always eager to stir up excitement immediately joined in.

"Exactly! Sandy, you have to treat us!"

"Come on, a project this big deserves a celebration!"

"Your treat! Your treat!"

Sandy's smile began to falter, but with everyone watching, she was backed into a corner and had no choice but to agree.

"Y-Yes, of course!" she replied, her voice trembling. "What does everyone want to eat?"

I immediately named the most expensive and hardest-to-book Ferasian restaurant in Brixton.

"I know a fantastic place," I said. "Great atmosphere, authentic food, and perfect for celebrating. Only a restaurant like that would be fitting for a treat from the Melville heiress."

Sandy winced when she heard the restaurant's name. But with everyone showering her with praise—telling her how influential she must be to get a table there and how generous she was—she could only grit her teeth and nod.

…

That evening, in Le Jardin's private dining room, Sandy grew paler by the minute as she scanned the prices on the menu.

Being the thoughtful colleague I was, I recommended that everyone try the signature dishes, making sure every item we ordered came with a hefty price tag.

Just as the tension in the air began to heighten, a polite knock sounded at the door.

The waiter led two guests into the room—the Ferasian couple who owned the design studio we'd been negotiating with.

Claire and Adrien were dining at Le Jardin that evening, too. After hearing that Sandy was celebrating the project, they'd decided to stop by and offer their congratulations.

Sandy panicked. She jumped to her feet, stammering a "hello" in Ferasian, then she froze, her face turning bright red.

Watching her flounder, I said nothing, merely smiling to myself. This was the real reason I'd chosen this restaurant.

I hadn't just wanted to make Sandy pay through the nose. I also intended to take back the deal that should have been mine.

The Moreau couple were gracious enough to switch to another language and greet everyone with a smile.

Unfortunately, Sandy's command of that language was limited to everyday conversation. The moment the discussion turned to anything technical or industry-specific, she started stumbling over her words.

Claire and Adrien exchanged subtle frowns, clearly growing concerned about Sandy's communication skills and her ability to handle herself professionally.

"Is this really the level of competence your company's new project lead has to offer?"

Mr. Langdon was sweating bullets. He kept shooting me desperate looks, silently begging me to step in.