Rongcheng was insanely stuffy that summer.
It was only a dozen steps from the parking lot to the front entrance of Mist Club, but by the time Celia Hale got there, she already felt like she’d been steamed through. She hurried up the steps, and the second she got back into the air-conditioned lobby, she let out a long breath in pure relief.
Right then, her phone started ringing. The music inside the club was blasting hard enough to drown everything out, so thank goodness she had vibration on and was still holding the phone in her hand.
The call was from Maxwell Lorne.
Her slim fingers slid across the screen. The moment the call connected, her "Hello" came out more like a shout.
He must have heard the background noise on her end, because he immediately said, "You’re here already? Want me to come down and get you?"
"No need!" Celia practically yelled back.
"Room 3102. Don’t go to the wrong one."
"Got it." She hung up and headed straight for the elevator.
She’d been to Mist Club a few times before while accompanying her boss to business dinners, but this was her first time on the third floor. The whole level was private rooms, and only gold card members could book them. And the kind of people who held gold cards... yeah, either rich, powerful, or both.
Room 3102 wasn’t far from the elevator lobby. Just one turn down the corridor, and there it was.
The metal door handle was carved with delicate, complicated patterns. Under the lights, it practically gave off a luxury-money vibe. Celia had just lifted her hand to knock when the door was suddenly pulled open from inside.
It was Gavin Wilson, Maxwell’s business partner.
The two nearly bumped into each other and both paused for a beat. Then Gavin broke into a grin and waved her in. "Sis-in-law, you finally made it. I lined up a big client for you tonight!"
That so-called big client was Gavin’s cousin, if you traced the family tree sideways enough. This dinner had originally had nothing to do with Celia at all, but somewhere in the middle of all the toasting and drinking, the guy mentioned he’d just bought a villa and had no clue how to decorate it.
And Celia happened to work in interior design.
Maybe Gavin really wanted to help his buddy’s girlfriend land some business. Or maybe he had other thoughts in mind. Either way, he started recommending her on the spot. He hyped up her professional skills like she was god-tier, one in a million, then egged Maxwell on until he finally made the call and dragged her over this late at night.
The private room was huge. The lighting was dim and suggestive. Cigarette smoke, alcohol, and perfume all mixed together in the air, making it thick and sharp enough to sting the eyes.
Celia followed behind Gavin, walking all the way from the entrance to the innermost part of the room.
In the corner sat a coffee table and a set of leather sofas, with five or six people gathered around, men and women both. Maxwell was there too. He was in the middle of saying something to someone sitting diagonally across from him, half-hidden in shadow. Since he was turned sideways, he didn’t notice them come in at all. In the end, it was Gavin who smacked him on the shoulder and laughed, "Your girl’s here and you didn’t even notice? Careful, or you’ll be kneeling on a washboard when you get home!"
That one line instantly pulled everyone’s attention over.
Someone who knew them fairly well chimed in with a grin, "Washboards are out these days, Mr. Lorne. Keep up with the times, man. Get yourself a durian."
"My bad, my bad." Maxwell Lorne laughed as he stood, reached out, and gently pulled Celia Hale over. He settled her into his seat, then turned to the man across from him he’d been talking to just now. "Mr. Harlow, this is my girlfriend, Celia Hale. She’s basically one of the top designers in Rongcheng." As he spoke, he tipped his chin toward the guy who had just teased him. "Mr. Thornton can back me up. Both luxury houses in his family were done by Celia."
Mr. Thornton immediately laughed and went along with it. "Yeah, absolutely, I can vouch for that. Miss Hale really does have solid design ideas."
"Really?" The voice that came over was low and unhurried, with that casual, almost lazy edge to it. "Didn’t expect Mr. Lorne’s girlfriend to be this young, this talented, and this pretty too." As he spoke, the man slowly straightened up, his upper body gradually coming out of the shadows.
The second that handsome face came fully into view, Celia Hale’s heartbeat seemed to miss a beat.
Her mind went blank on the spot. In that split second, she vaguely heard someone nearby suck in a breath.
Then the cold, wet feeling spreading over her knees snapped her back to reality. She had knocked over a glass. The icy drink slid down the edge of the table in thin streams, dripping onto her and soaking through the light fabric. Celia Hale instinctively shot to her feet to avoid it, but in her panic, she caught the corner of the table and nearly stumbled.