Chapter 20
Emily's POV
I walked out of the auditorium, deliberately transforming my expression from the cold confidence I had shown Kate's friend to something softer and more timid. The shift happened instantly, like flipping a switch—a skill I had perfected over years of necessity. Despite the seamless transition, I felt a flicker of exhaustion beneath the mask. Still, anticipation hummed through my veins. Tonight was crucial.
My psychology professor stood waiting outside, elegant in her deep navy suit. She'd clearly dressed with care for the evening's networking event at Red Maple Club.
"Sorry to keep you waiting," I said softly, infusing just the right amount of apologetic deference into my voice. I caught her approving glance as she scanned my carefully selected outfit—modest, academic, perfect for playing the role of the innocent student.
"Was everything alright in there? I thought I saw some commotion," she asked, concern evident in her tone.
I smiled gently, shaking my head. "Just a small misunderstanding between classmates. Nothing serious." I deftly redirected the conversation, avoiding any deeper inquiry into Kate's friend's confrontation.
"The reception tonight will be full of faculty leadership and industry professionals," she explained as we walked. "Don't be nervous—consider it a learning experience."
I nodded appreciatively, knowing she'd never guess my true purpose for attending.
By 6:30, our car pulled up to Red Maple Club. Through the window, I watched as urban landscapes gradually gave way to mountain scenery. When we stepped out, the cold wind bit at my cheeks, and I adjusted the scarf Stefan had given me. The thought of him sent complicated emotions rippling through me, which I immediately suppressed. Focus on the task. No distractions tonight.
We walked through the meticulously landscaped gardens, elegantly lit paths lined with plum blossom decorations. I feigned wonder and appreciation while carefully scanning each face, each conversation around me.
"This venue hosts elite gatherings throughout the year. Tonight's event is a rare opportunity for academia and business to mingle," my professor commented. I smiled and nodded, while my eyes continued their search. I knew my target would be here—he never missed networking opportunities like this.
I noticed several respectful glances directed at my professor, with a few curious looks cast my way. Perfect—noticeable enough without drawing too much attention. I needed to be seen by the right people.
Inside the ballroom, crystal chandeliers illuminated polished faces and designer clothes. I positioned myself slightly behind my professor, projecting shy hesitancy while methodically surveying the room.
"I'll get you something to drink," she said. "Feel free to look around—no need to be nervous." I thanked her with a grateful nod, welcoming the opportunity to move independently.
The moment she left, my posture subtly shifted, my gaze growing focused and calculating. I spotted the university president engaged in animated conversation with a middle-aged man. Their body language and the frequency of their interaction suggested a relationship beyond casual acquaintance.
I drifted closer, pretending to admire a nearby flower arrangement while straining to catch fragments of their conversation. When the words "jewelry market" and "international investments" reached my ears, I confirmed the man's identity: Liam, the key investor behind Summers Jewelry's newest contracts.
I studied him carefully—around fifty, impeccably tailored suit, composed demeanor, with the confident smile of a successful businessman. Mentally reviewing my research: close relationship with Richard, three or four collaborations over the past five years, instrumental in helping Summers Jewelry enter international markets.
As I watched him shake hands with the president and start to walk away, I quickly calculated his likely path through the venue. I needed to "accidentally" encounter him in the right place, at the right moment.
My professor returned with juice, which I accepted with thanks while keeping Liam's retreating figure in my peripheral vision. He was heading toward a side door that appeared to lead to the restrooms.
"How are you finding everything?" my professor asked kindly.
I offered a timid smile and nodded, mind racing. The radiation jewelry scandal had already damaged Summers Jewelry, but not fatally. I needed to cut off their final funding source, and Liam was the key.
"I need to use the restroom," I said quietly, my expression apologetic.
"Be careful not to get lost—this place is enormous," she cautioned. I promised I wouldn't.
After leaving her side, I followed Liam's path down an elegantly decorated but relatively deserted corridor. I slowed my pace, ensuring nobody noticed me. The hallway led to the restrooms—my excuse was perfect.
I positioned myself at a corner near a landscape painting, pretending to admire it while patiently waiting for Liam to emerge from the men's room. I needed to appear completely surprised by our encounter, not deliberately waiting.
Deep in my mind, I reviewed everything I knew about him: businessman, shrewd, profit-driven, Richard's long-time friend and business partner. Would he sacrifice business interests for friendship? Unlikely.
Footsteps approached from the restroom direction. I quickly adjusted my expression to one of surprise and shyness, taking a deep breath. This "chance meeting" would determine whether my plan succeeded or failed.
Liam rounded the corner as I pretended to be turning to leave, creating our face-to-face encounter. I let appropriate surprise register on my face. He paused, clearly not expecting to see anyone.
He studied me, brow slightly furrowed, seemingly trying to place me. I remained silent, letting him speak first—a reaction that would reinforce the encounter's apparent randomness.
"Emily? Is that Emily?" he suddenly recognized me, pleasure evident in his tone. I widened my eyes in manufactured surprise—his remembering me was exactly what I needed.
"You know me, sir?" I smiled shyly, my voice gentle. I tilted my head slightly in feigned uncertainty, noting the satisfaction in his eyes at being remembered.
"I'm Liam, an old friend of your uncle Richard's. I met you several times when you were younger." His explanation was friendly, followed by concerned inquiries about my health, referencing my childhood frailty.
"I can't believe you remember me," I replied with a grateful smile.