Chapter 7

"Does being angry even help?" Emily said, propping a pillow under her leg. "Just seventeen days left. I'll hang in there, and then I'm gone."

Isabella was quiet for a moment. "Emily, sometimes I don't get you. You don't have to put up with all this."

"What do you mean?" Emily asked.

"Never mind, it's nothing," Isabella said, her tone suddenly shifting, like she'd almost let something slip and quickly reined herself in. "Get some rest. Call me if you need anything."

After hanging up, Emily sat there, staring at her phone, lost in thought. Isabella's words echoed in her mind. "You don't have to put up with all this." It was a strange thing to say.

She didn't dwell on it. She set her phone on the nightstand and turned off the light.

Outside, the wind rustled through the creeper vines on the wall, making a soft, whispering sound.

On the seventh day, the Oliver Group held a client appreciation dinner.

Emily wasn't supposed to go, but Dorothy called her personally, saying Bruce wanted her to attend. "It's one of the last times you'll show up as Mrs. Oliver. Do it for Bruce's sake," Dorothy had said.

Emily changed into a black evening gown and pulled her hair back in a bun. Since walking the red carpet with her crutches would be a hassle, she had the driver drop her off at the side entrance.

When she walked into the hall, she realized how high-profile the event was. There were several business tycoons she recognized, and a few faces she'd only ever seen on the news.

Noah was standing in the center of the hall, looking sharp in his suit, shaking hands with a man with gray hair. Amber stood a step behind him, holding a glass of champagne, her smile perfectly composed.

Emily found a quiet spot in the corner and sat down. When a waiter passed by with a tray, she grabbed a glass of water.

"Mrs. Oliver?" a voice called from beside her.

She turned and saw a man in his fifties, wearing a dark gray suit and sporting a warm, approachable smile. It took her a moment, but she recognized him as the client who had visited the Oliver family home last time.

"Mr. Grant," Emily said, rising to greet him.

Richard Grant smiled and took the seat beside her. "Mrs. Oliver, are you here alone tonight?"

"Yes," Emily replied.

Richard leaned in, lowering his voice. "After our conversation at the Oliver family home, I brought your ideas back to my team. They were really impressed. They said they'd never looked at those issues from that perspective before."

"You're too kind, Mr. Grant. It was only a casual chat," Emily replied.

"Far from it," Richard said, giving her a meaningful look. "Mrs. Oliver, it's a shame that your talents are wasted in the Oliver family."

Emily smiled, choosing not to comment.

"If there's an opportunity, I'd love to talk with you again," Richard said, pulling out a business card and handing it to her.

Just as Emily was about to take it, a hand reached over from the side and snatched the card away.

It was Amber.

"Hello, Mr. Grant," Amber said with a sweet smile, tucking the card into her own clutch. "If you have any business matters, you can reach out to me. I'm Mr. Oliver's secretary. Mrs. Oliver isn't in the best shape tonight, so let's not trouble her."

Richard's smile faltered for a moment as he glanced between Amber and Emily.

Emily stayed silent.

Amber turned to her, her smile never fading. "Emily, your leg is still healing. Would you like me to have someone help you to the lounge? It's crowded here. If someone bumped into your injury, that wouldn't be good."

Her words sounded considerate, but everyone could hear the real meaning behind them. She was really saying Emily didn't belong at events like this.

Richard cleared his throat. "Well, I've got someone looking for me over there, so I'll have to excuse myself." He stood up, nodded at Emily, and walked away.

Amber sat down next to Emily, turning to her with a polite smile. "Emily, there are a lot of important clients here tonight. Mr. Noah Oliver wants you to show your face. No need to talk too much.

"Since you don't really know the company's business, it'd be better not to say too much just in case."

Emily turned to look at her. Up close, Amber was undeniably beautiful. Her features were delicate, her makeup flawless, and her manners impeccable.

"Got it," Emily said.

"Alright, you rest here, Emily. I need to get back to work," Amber said, giving her a polite smile before heading back to Noah's side with her champagne.

Emily sat in the corner, her water now lukewarm. She watched the crowd mingling, glasses clinking, and saw Noah and Amber standing together in the center, accepting compliments side by side.

They really looked like a couple.

Emily pulled out her phone and checked the time. Thirteen days left.

As a waiter hurried past her, he suddenly lost his footing. The whole tray of red wine went flying, drenching her dress. The icy wine soaked her from chest to knee, turning her black dress into a soggy mess.

"I'm so sorry, Mrs. Oliver. I swear I didn't mean to!" The waiter panicked, grabbing napkins and dabbing at her dress in a fluster.