Balfour glanced at Ivy sitting beside him and shook his head with a hint of resignation. “I’ve got a board
meeting at the office tomorrow. Can’t miss it.”
“How about the day after?” Giselle cooed, batting her eyelashes. “You know how crazy my schedule
gets. It’s rare for me to catch a break.”
Balfour was on the verge of saying no but hesitated, remembering how Giselle’s father had once saved
his skin.
Seeing that Balfour had not responded, Giselle assumed consent and flashed a radiant smile, her eyes
slyly catching Ivy’s. “I knew you’d come around. I’ll text you the details, okay?”
Ivy felt a sour knot in her stomach as she listened to her ‘husband’ arrange what sounded suspiciously
like a date with another woman. And the worst part was that she had no right to object.
Seeing the shift in Ivy’s expression, Giselle felt a surge of malicious glee. She had managed to flirt
outrageously with Balfour, and it seemed she was coming out on top.
Her eyes landed on the glass Balfour had been drinking from, and a mischievous idea took hold. “Is it
just me, or is the food a tad too salty today?” she grimaced, reaching for Balfour’s glass and taking a
deliberate sip.
Ivy’s eyes widened in disbelief. Balfour had used that glass earlier, and there was no way Giselle did
not notice.
Was Giselle implying some sort of indirect kiss by drinking from Balfour’s glass?
Biting her lip, Ivy snorted softly to herself.
How shameless Giselle was, sharing a drink with a married man!
Balfour also noticed Giselle’s action and was about to intervene, but she had already taken a sip before
he could.
His expression darkened as he watched. His hand paused mid-air before retracting.
After her sip, Giselle feigned surprise, “Oh, my! I must’ve grabbed the wrong glass. How
embarrassing.”
She placed the glass back with an apologetic look. “Balfour, I’m so sorry. You don’t mind, do you?”
Her words cornered Balfour. Any reproach now would make him appear petty. Unsure of what to say,
he simply continued his meal in silence.
Though Giselle did not get the reaction she had hoped for, she was content with not being scolded.
She called the waiter for a fresh set of utensils and joined them for lunch.
Throughout the meal, Balfour did not touch his glass again. Instead, after finishing, he took Ivy’s glass.,
“That’s mine…” Ivy started to protest, but Balfour had already drained the glass.
“Let’s go. Home,” he said, standing up.
Giselle watched with envy as Balfour deliberately avoided her glass in favor of Ivy’s, sourness filling her
heart. What magic did Ivy possess to make Balfour so fond of her?
As the three of them prepared to leave, Ivy moved to get into the Howard family car.
Giselle, who had been quiet, suddenly said, “Oh dear! My agent is MIA, and I can’t seem to reach him.
The studio’s quite a distance from here, and I’m at a loss for how to get back!”
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