Chapter 66 Bento
Emma found Yosef's phone call oddly unsettling. His tone carried something she couldn't quite place, as if he were holding back.
Curious, she sent him a message: [Is something wrong?]
Yosef replied almost immediately, telling her to check Elizabeth's Instagram account for herself.
Emma did.
And when she finished scrolling through the posts, she sat frozen for a long moment. The realization hit her like a cold wave—Elizabeth and Timothy… they were involved? She had never imagined such a connection.
Intrigued, Emma asked Yosef for Elizabeth's Facebook profile. That evening, she sent a friend request. When Elizabeth accepted, Emma wasted no time.
Emma: [Ms. Penrose, I'd like to invite you for afternoon tea tomorrow. Would you be free?]
Elizabeth read the message, curiosity flickering in her eyes.
Elizabeth: [Okay.]Emma: [I'll come by TechStrong to find you tomorrow.]
The next morning, Elizabeth woke early, showering to clear her head. She had decided to cook breakfast today, so she rose half an hour earlier than usual.
Opening her bedroom door, she nearly collided with Timothy, who was just stepping inside. He wore a crisp white shirt and black suit trousers, a bag dangling from one hand. But what caught her attention most was the key in his right hand.
Elizabeth crossed her arms and leaned against the doorframe, one brow arched. "Where did you get that key?"
Timothy bent to change into slippers. "Mabel helped me get a copy."
Elizabeth's eyes narrowed. Mabel must have been tricked.
"I brought breakfast—hot milk and bread." He lifted the bag and set it on the dining table. "This place is famous for its hot milk."
Elizabeth walked over, ready to thank him, but before she could speak, Timothy's arm slid around her waist, pressing her back against the wall. His fingers traced the line of her brow, his gaze darkening.
Elizabeth blinked once, lowering her voice. "Mabel is home."
His grip tightened at her waist, drawing her closer. "Let's go to your room."
Elizabeth's lips curved into a smile. "You'd better be quick. You've only got twenty minutes—I have work."
Timothy said nothing.
By the time Elizabeth arrived at TechStrong, she was already two hours late. She carried a coffee into Yosef's office.
He was in the middle of a boxing routine, a heavy bag swinging under his blows. He glanced at her. "Ms. Penrose, I need to speak with you later."
His voice was slightly breathless; he must have been at it for a while. His arms were taut, muscles defined, sweat glistening on his bronzed skin. The next punch landed with a solid thud.
Elizabeth set the coffee on his desk and waited until he stopped. He grabbed a towel, wiping his neck, then dropped onto the sofa, lifting his gaze to her.
"Emma asked me for your Facebook yesterday. I gave it to her."
Elizabeth met his eyes. "I figured."
"If Emma asks me to fire you, I'll agree." Yosef's tone was cold, no trace of humor.
"I understand."
Elizabeth's brow lifted, her smile faint. It seemed fair—Yosef was family to Emma, and she was just a secretary, an outsider.
"As long as you understand."
Elizabeth nodded, collected the signed documents from his desk, and left to continue her work.
During her break, she messaged Jessa to ask about the progress of her album recording. Elizabeth was patient—she considered herself a skilled hunter, waiting for the day Sherry would fall from her high perch.
Jessa's situation, however, was far from ideal. When she saw Elizabeth's message, she clung to it like a lifeline.
"Daisy, I want to ask Ms. Penrose for help," Jessa said wearily, rubbing her forehead. "I think she might know what to do."
Everything had been fine—she had purchased the rights to Elizabeth's song and begun recording—but yesterday, her company informed her that the album release was on hold. The Starlight Group was being outrageous.
Daisy paced the room, hesitant. "I think Ms. Penrose is set on opposing Sherry. If you ask her for help, you'll be taking sides.
"You know Sherry's backed by the Johnson Group."
Jessa smiled faintly. "Daisy, there's no such thing as taking only the benefits without paying a price."
Daisy stopped pacing. "So you've decided?"
Jessa nodded. "I'm not even sure Ms. Penrose will help me. I'm just a nobody right now."
She called Elizabeth.
Elizabeth raised a brow when she saw the caller ID. She answered, telling Jessa to hold on while she took the elevator to the deserted rooftop.
"Ms. Greer, what is it?" Elizabeth's voice was casual, yet warm.
Jessa drew a deep breath. "Ms. Penrose, the Starlight Group has put my album release on hold. Could you help me?"
Elizabeth's smile was audible in her voice. "Ms. Greer, I'm not a charity."
She had her principles, but she wasn't in the business of playing the saint.
Jessa's voice softened. "Name your terms."
"In a couple of days, an agency will go to the Starlight Group to terminate your contract. You'll become their artist."
Jessa paused. "Alright. Thank you."
Deal struck, Elizabeth hung up and paid Jessa's penalty fee. It was a large sum.
Sometimes, she found it amusing—her divorce settlement was now funding her war against Sherry, future member of the Johnson family.
Emma arrived at the office around four that afternoon. She smiled at Elizabeth. "Ms. Penrose, do you have time now? If not, I can wait."
Elizabeth checked the clock. "I can't leave until five-thirty."
Emma's eyes sparkled. "That's easy—I'll tell Yosef."
Elizabeth nodded, gathering her things.
Emma stepped into Yosef's office. "I'm taking Ms. Penrose for a chat after work."
Yosef glanced at her, waved a hand, and didn't object.
They chose an open-air café. Emma ordered milk; Elizabeth chose black coffee without sugar.
Emma studied her companion quietly. She had to admit—Elizabeth was stunning. Not just beautiful, but with a presence that was neither ladylike nor overly gentle, not aloof but touched with a lazy elegance.
Emma took a few sips, set her cup down, and dabbed her lips with a napkin. "I saw Instagram. You're with Mr. Robinson?"
Elizabeth looked up, a smile playing at her lips. "Yes."
Emma nodded slowly. "I never expected it would be you."
Elizabeth was, after all, a divorced woman.
"The Johnson family can't compare to the Robinsons. Even our Sutter family is far behind them."
Elizabeth crossed her legs, meeting Emma's gaze. "Being together doesn't always mean marriage."
Emma blinked, then smiled, her eyes bright.
Just then, Elizabeth's phone rang on the table. The caller ID read Timothy.
"Sorry," she told Emma, answering the call.
Timothy's voice was low and slightly husky. "I was going to ask you to dinner tonight, but I'll be working late."
"Elizabeth." His tone dropped further.
"What is it?"
He chuckled. "Will you bring me dinner?"
"I can."
Ending the call, Elizabeth turned to Emma. "Sorry, I need to stop by the supermarket. We'll have to cut this short."
Emma nodded, her gaze flicking to Elizabeth's phone. She smiled. "Alright. We'll talk again soon."