Chapter 272

Chapter 272

Sarah's excited voice came from inside the room:

"Really? George, you're so sweet! I haven't had afternoon tea from Clear Dew Patisserie in ages!"

"Do your job well." George didn't say more and hung up.

The hallway fell silent again.

I stood there, holding my empty water cup, my fingertips feeling a bit cold.

So that's why George didn't come to question me earlier - he was preparing to make Sarah happy.

Of course, how could he not stand up for Sarah?

He just chose a more sophisticated, more dignified, and more humiliating way to do it.

Realizing it pointless, I was about to turn and leave.

At that moment, Sarah came out, her face still flushed with the smile from the phone call.
She looked up and met my eyes as I stood by the door.

Her smile froze for a moment, then her lips curved into an undisguised mocking smile:

"Ms. Brown, eavesdropping on other people's phone calls - that's not a great habit, is it?"

Looking at her face that screamed "I have someone backing me up," I felt no emotion, just cold annoyance.

"Just passing by." I said flatly, no longer looking at her, turning sideways to walk past her.

But Sarah took two quick steps, blocking my way slightly, deliberately showing off:

"Ms. Brown, don't rush off. George ordered afternoon tea from Clear Dew Patisserie for me... no, for everyone in the company. It'll be here soon."

"You should join us too. Their pastries are really hard to get."

Without waiting for my answer, as if certain I wouldn't refuse, she walked out of the hallway first, head held high like a victor.

Around 3 PM, Clear Dew Patisserie's staff delivered boxes to Star Tech's reception desk.

There were so many they almost formed a small mountain.

The news spread through the entire company like wildfire.

"Afternoon tea from Clear Dew Patisserie? For real?"

"And everyone gets some? Who's so generous?"

"I heard it was ordered by Sarah's friend, some items were even made fresh."

"Oh my God! Doesn't Clear Dew Patisserie not do delivery? What kind of connections do you need to get them to make an exception?"

"Mr. Smith really spoils Ms. Wilson. I heard they're getting engaged soon, and Ms. Wilson will become Mrs. Smith."

The entire office was buzzing.

Colleagues gathered around the reception desk, looking at the food boxes that were as beautiful as art pieces, gasping in amazement.

Many had already opened them to taste, their faces full of excitement and satisfaction.

Sarah walked over with a smile: "Take your time, there's more over there if you need it."

When people saw her, they surrounded her with thanks:

"Thank you, Sarah! This is so delicious. I could only eat such fancy pastries because of you!"

"Sarah, your friend is so good to you. I'm so jealous."

Praise and thanks came one after another, and Sarah's smile grew brighter.

She waved her hand, her voice gentle:

"Don't mention it, everyone. Just a small gesture. I'm glad you like it. I'll treat you all again next time."

"Sarah, is that friend of yours your fiancé?" a bold colleague teased with a laugh.

Sarah's face turned slightly red as she chided: "Don't talk nonsense, he's just a regular friend."

"A regular friend can get Clear Dew Patisserie to deliver for the whole company? I don't believe it!" someone chimed in.

"Right, right! Such a big gesture, and treating Sarah so well - definitely not just a regular friend. Mr. Smith is obviously pursuing Sarah."

"I heard Mr. Smith is young and successful, and single. Sarah, you two are perfect for each other!"

The gossip and teasing grew louder.

Sarah, surrounded by everyone's teasing and attention, played coy and hesitant.

Finally, with a hint of helplessness, she softly admitted:

"Alright, alright. George heard it was my first day at work, that I might be a bit nervous, and that I was late, causing trouble for everyone. So he wanted to treat everyone to make up for it on my behalf."

Her words were clever - admitting the friend was George while attributing his generosity to his consideration for her, raising her own value while making herself seem reasonable.

"It really is Mr. Smith."

"Mr. Smith is so good to you, Sarah."

"Exactly! Handsome, rich, and so thoughtful! Sarah, you're so lucky!"

Sarah had become the center of attention in the entire office.

Those who had some issues with Sarah over seating and work arrangements now clearly softened or even changed their attitudes, won over by the expensive treats.

Emily stood at my office door, watching the scene outside where Sarah was the center of attention, her face turning green with anger.

Her fists were clenched tight as she cursed under her breath:

"Shameless bitch, showing off what? Acting generous with someone else's husband's money - what's there to be proud of?"

"Those pastries were all bought by the man Grace doesn't want. George is disgusting, treating a mistress so well, when back then with our Grace..."

William had appeared at some point, his expression equally dark.

He patted Emily's shoulder, signaling her to stop, but the coldness and disgust in his eyes were undisguised.

I didn't go out.

I just sat behind my desk, calmly watching outside through the gaps in the blinds.

Then I reached out and pressed the button that controlled the blinds.

The curtains slowly closed automatically, completely shutting out all the noise outside.

The office became quiet again.

"Let them eat," I said indifferently. "Let's finish the materials we have. We can't delay the project progress."

I didn't want that person to affect my work mood.

Emily and William exchanged glances, said nothing more, and quietly returned to their positions.

I forced myself to focus on the dense data and code on my computer screen.

My fingers tapped on the keyboard, making rhythmic sounds.

But my thoughts drifted away uncontrollably.

Those six years.

A full six years.

I had never seen George show me even once the kind of care and extravagance he showed Sarah today.

He never remembered what pastries I liked, never cared if I was nervous at work, and certainly never made such a big show to back me up.

During those years at the Smith Group, I was his secretary in name, but in reality, I was more like an errand girl.

Our secret marriage made my position awkward.

Those colleagues who didn't know the truth, seeing me always following George around handling various chores, called me a bootlicker behind my back.

Yes, a bootlicker.

A bootlicker who threw herself at George, with no status, no dignity, coming when called and leaving when dismissed, yet thinking she was something special.

I used to think that was love.

That I was sacrificing for love, enduring for love.

Now I understand - it was just a joke of self-delusion.

I put down my mouse and rubbed my slightly sore eyes.

My fingertips touched my skin - ice cold.

George's afternoon tea move wasn't backing Sarah up - it was a slap across my face, loud yet silent.

He was using the most direct way to tell everyone at Star Tech, and to tell me:

Sarah is the person George values, she has his backing, and no one can bully her.

William and Emily were smart people - how could they not see the meaning behind this?

Both their faces were dark, and the low pressure in the office had almost become tangible.

Those exquisite, expensive pastries sat outside, their fragrance seeming to carry mockery, but neither of them touched them or even looked at them.

But Sarah wasn't willing to let it go.

She probably felt that just receiving everyone's flattery outside wasn't enough - she had to bring this victory to William and me in person, to display it herself, to be truly satisfied.

So, surrounded by colleagues who were either envious or flattering, Sarah carried two plates of pastries, a smile on her face, and knocked on my office door.

Without waiting for my response, she had already pushed the door open, with several colleagues who enjoyed watching drama following behind her.

"Ms. Brown, Mr. Jones, Ms. Johnson," Sarah's voice was gentle and proper, but her eyes carried subtle provocation. "The afternoon tea has arrived - Clear Dew Patisserie's signature pastries. Everyone says they taste great. Why don't you try some? You've been working all afternoon, take a break."

She placed the pastries on an empty spot on my desk, then gestured for someone behind her to hand another plate to William and Emily.

The air in the office instantly fell silent - you could hear a pin drop.

Everyone's eyes focused on the three of us.