Chapter 48 A Scent Not His Own
"Miss Penrose, do you think Mr. Johnson would be shocked if he saw you today?"
Elizabeth set down her coffee and lifted her gaze to Yosef. "No idea."
Across from her sat Yosef Sutter, chairman of TechStrong and a member of the Sutter family—Matthew's older brother.
She had already called the driver to pick them up at one o'clock.
Yosef's eyes lingered on her. The red pencil skirt hugged her hips, the white blouse unbuttoned just enough to hint at the curve of her collarbone. She was nothing like the poised, untouchable Elizabeth he remembered. Now she was a different kind of weapon—seductive, but every bit as capable.
In just a week at TechStrong, she had proven herself meticulous and unflappable. Yosef was impressed.
He leaned in, close enough for his breath to brush her ear, one brow arched. "What perfume is that? It's… distracting."
Elizabeth ended her call without moving away, her own brow lifting in a mirror of his.
Yosef added, "Buy one for Lana. And another for my cousin Emma."
Lana Kim—his mistress.
Emma—the same girl Elizabeth had seen at Timothy's side.
What a small world.
Elizabeth filed it away. "Noted."
"I've always wondered," Yosef said as he leaned back again, "in all those years working for Armando… did you ever notice any unusual habits?"
Her smile was polite. "You forget—I lost my memory. All I recall is that he has stomach trouble."
Yosef sighed, shaking his head. "Still loyal, I see."
She only arched a brow and left to get back to work.
Later, she ordered the perfume and had one bottle sent to Lana. The other… she wasn't sure where to send. She called Yosef's office. "Where should I send Miss Sutter's perfume?"
"Hold on," he said, likely calling someone else.
A minute later he gave her an address. She froze halfway through writing it down. Greenview Mansion. The place Timothy had once insisted she stay to recover from her injuries.
By one o'clock, they were leaving the building. Rain swept across the street, the wind sharp.
Elizabeth opened her umbrella and held it over Yosef. He was tall and broad-shouldered, and she was a slender woman fighting the wind—an image that would have looked almost comical if it weren't for her poise. The driver opened the door, Yosef got in, and she circled around to the other side.
The car was warm, the hum of the heater loosening the tension in her shoulders.
For a while, they rode in silence. Then Elizabeth took out her compact and touched up her makeup.
Yosef watched her, baffled at the need. She was already striking enough to turn heads. "Planning to look your absolute best for Armando?"
"Something like that," she said lightly.
"Mr. Johnson is a lucky man," Yosef said, his tone loaded. "He has his jasmine… and his rose."
She smiled without answering. Roses had thorns.
They arrived at West Wealth Restaurant. She'd been here recently—last time, she had watched Armando play violin for Sherry.
Today, Yosef had booked a private room. Elizabeth knocked and stepped inside. Several businessmen turned their heads, their surprise obvious.
"Am I late?"
Yosef entered first, Elizabeth following. Armando looked up from his seat, cigarette between his fingers, gaze cool and unreadable.
Elizabeth poured Yosef a drink and stood behind him.
"Miss Penrose is thorough," Yosef said with a smirk. "I used to envy Mr. Johnson. Now it's his turn."
He raised his glass toward Armando, then noticed his was empty. He gestured with a finger. "Miss Penrose, could you pour Mr. Johnson a drink?"
She smiled, walked to Armando's side, and bent to fill his glass.
"Thank you," he said, voice cool.
They clinked glasses. Conversation turned to business.
Elizabeth greeted Tom with a nod, then later stepped out to buy Yosef cigarettes. Watching her leave, Yosef chuckled. "Elizabeth is exceptional."
He glanced sidelong at Armando. They had never gotten along; without this joint project, they wouldn't be in the same room.
"If I pursued her," Yosef asked, "would you mind?"
Armando's voice was low. "You wouldn't succeed."
Yosef scoffed. "And why not? I'm not cold as ice like you. Isn't that right, gentlemen?"
The others smiled but stayed out of it.
Armando's reply was a lazy drawl. "She knows you keep a mistress."
Yosef said nothing.
Elizabeth returned, lit Yosef's cigarette, the curve of her skirt drawing the eye. Armando sat back, unlit cigarette in hand, eyes on his phone.
When the meal ended, the discussion wasn't over. Yosef suggested a game of poker.
"Elizabeth, take my seat," he said. "If you lose, I'll cover it."
She almost laughed, remembering the time Armando had let Michael pester her while he taught Sherry to play.
"I don't remember the rules," she said.
"I'll walk you through," Yosef promised.
"Alright."
She played two hands, both times ending up losing chips to Armando.
Yosef sighed. "Ms. Penrose, he's not your boss anymore. I am. Why are you letting him win?"
She shrugged, helpless. "Not on purpose."
The others chuckled. "Mr. Johnson, go easy on her."
Armando glanced at her. She winked. He smiled faintly. "Fine. I'll let her win this one."
By the time they wrapped up, a new topic came up.
"Is the Sutter family planning a match with the Robinsons of Border Ridge City?" one man asked.
Elizabeth knew instantly—they meant Emma and Timothy.
Yosef stubbed out his cigarette. "If Mr. Robinson hasn't announced it, let's not spread rumors."
The Sutters wanted it, but it depended on Timothy.
Elizabeth lowered her gaze.
When they left, she told Yosef, "I need a word with Mr. Johnson. Won't be going back to TechStrong with you."
He watched her slip into Armando's car, bemused at what she saw in him.
Armando leaned back in his seat. "Something you need?"
"No. Just wanted a ride home," she said with a smile.
She gave Kade her address and chatted with Tom in the front seat. After a while, she wrinkled her nose. "The smell of alcohol is awful."
She pulled out a small perfume bottle, spritzed herself, and handed it to Tom. "Your girlfriend will love this."
Her blouse and skirt framed her curves, the movement of her body carrying an unspoken invitation. Armando's eyes flicked to her.
When they reached her building, she thanked him and got out, humming as she walked away.
At Imperial Garden, Sherry met Armando at the door, taking his coat. She caught the faint, sweet scent clinging to him.
He never wore perfume like that.
It had to be from another woman.