Chapter 3
Sophia was convinced that every woman out there secretly had the hots for Nathan.
And apparently, because I was always hanging around him, I was basically her number one suspect.
Whenever Nathan called, she'd always put him on speaker so I could hear every single word.
"Nathan, what are you doing? Are you missing me yet? I'm all alone and so bored," Sophia cooed.
Nathan sounded tired. "Just working."
"Claire's right here with me. She's super dedicated and won't let me out of her sight for a second," Sophia added.
She kept her eyes locked on me, clearly waiting to see if I'd react.
I kept my eyes down, acting like a total statue.
"Alright then. Claire, everything's fine?" Nathan said, sounding totally perfunctory.
He was just doing his usual check-in—nothing heartfelt, just business as always.
Before I could get a word out, Sophia cut in, "Couldn't be more normal.
"Come on, with me here, what could possibly go wrong? Nate, you always pay attention to her and barely notice me.
"Admit it, you're just looking for reasons to talk to her, aren't you?"
Nathan went quiet for a second. "Sophia, cut it out. I'm working."
In the background, I could hear his secretary reminding him of a meeting.
He hung up the phone hurriedly.
Sophia shot me a smug look, like she'd just won some kind of battle.
I didn't even bat an eye, though.
Honestly, I almost wanted to tell her Nathan had sounded annoyed just now.
But I kept it to myself.
Get paid, do the job, and keep quiet—that was my motto.
But I realized something after spending a bit of time with Sophia.
I noticed Nathan's attitude toward Sophia wasn't exactly overflowing with affection.
It definitely wasn't the crazy, head-over-heels romance everyone gossiped about or the fairy tale Sophia had built up in her own mind.
But my silence and backing off only made her more certain I was up to something.
In Sophia's eyes, I was even sneakier and more calculating than she had thought.
So she started stepping up her game, doubling down on the drama.
She nitpicked at every tiny detail just to find fault with me.
She tended to show off her unshakable leading lady status—no one else could ever threaten her spot at the top.
She ordered, "Claire, the handle of my coffee cup has to point exactly southeast. That's the only angle that looks good in photos.
"When I walk, you need to stay exactly three steps behind me—no more, no less. You're blocking my light.
"Claire, I don't like the way you smell. From now on, no more skincare products.
"Just wash your face with water, okay? I don't want to catch a whiff of you. Or are you just trying to catch someone's eye?"
Honestly, all I ever used was plain, unscented sunscreen.
Most of her crazy demands, I just let roll off my back whenever I could.
If ignoring wasn't an option, I'd hit her with my go-to line, cool as ever.
I'd say, "Ms. Quinn, my job is to keep you safe. Stuff like that? Not in the contract.
"Mr. Reed hasn't given me any such instructions."
She'd throw a fit and stomp her feet, but it wasn't like she could do anything about it.