Chapter 155 Trouble in the Aftermath
Chapter 155 Trouble in the Aftermath
Christina: POV
I stared at Elliot Sinclair, completely stunned by his outburst.
"What money? I never took a cent from you!"
The man's face turned an alarming shade of red as he jabbed a finger in my direction.
"Five thousand dollars! I paid five thousand dollars for this introduction!"
Patrick stepped forward, his stance protective yet analytical.
"Let me guess," he said, his voice calm and measured despite the tension crackling in the air.
"You gave the money to Emily as some kind of 'introduction fee,' and she pocketed it without Christina's knowledge."
Elliot's eyes widened slightly.
I could almost see the gears turning in his head as he processed this information.
His gaze darted between Patrick and me before settling on the door.
"That bitch!" he snarled, his affected accent completely gone now.
"She scammed me!"
Without another word, he stormed out of the room, nearly colliding with a potted plant in his haste.
As his footsteps receded down the hallway, Patrick turned to me with a raised eyebrow.
"Well, that was interesting."
"More like mortifying," I sighed, running a hand through my hair.
"I can't believe Emily would do something like that."
Patrick checked his watch and placed a gentle hand on my lower back.
"It's almost noon. Let's get out of here before round two starts. I'm taking you to lunch."
The prospect of escaping the office drama was too tempting to resist.
"God, yes. Please."
As we walked toward the parking lot, I noticed something stuck to the back of Patrick's expensive suit jacket – a pink Post-it note with flowing handwriting.
I reached out and plucked it off, my eyes narrowing as I read the message: Call me! 555-0187 – Amber followed by a heart and You MUST add me!
"Well, well," I said, waving the note in front of him.
"Looks like someone's quite popular in New York. Want to add her to your contacts?"
Patrick glanced at the note and rolled his eyes.
"This city is full of forward women. Must have happened while I was getting coffee this morning."
"Hmm," I hummed, pretending to consider the situation seriously.
"Strange girls hitting on my boyfriend... shouldn't I be doing something about this?"
Patrick's lips curved into that half-smile that still made my stomach flip.
"You absolutely should. In fact, I think you should call this clearly discerning woman with excellent taste and warn her that I'm taken."
I couldn't help but laugh at his shameless self-praise.
"Excellent taste? Someone's not lacking in confidence."
"Just stating facts," he replied, unlocking his car with a beep.
"But seriously, you don't need to worry about random notes. I only have eyes for one designer in this city."
The way he looked at me when he said it made my cheeks flush, and I was grateful for the distraction of getting into his car.
The next morning, I arrived at the design studio to find it buzzing with unusual energy.
The moment I stepped off the elevator, I heard raised voices echoing through the normally peaceful office space.
"You lying, thieving witch!" Elliot's voice carried down the hallway.
"How dare you speak to me like that, you balding little man!" Emily shrieked back.
My colleague Zoe appeared at my side, coffee in hand and eyes wide with excitement.
"Oh my God, you missed the beginning. It's been going on for twenty minutes."
"What happened?" I asked, though I had a pretty good idea.
"That Sinclair guy came in first thing and accused Emily of stealing his money," Zoe whispered, clearly delighting in the drama.
"Apparently, he paid her five grand to set up a date with you, and she never told you about the money."
I nodded, keeping my voice low.
"He mentioned that yesterday."
"Well, he's reported her to HR and demanded she be fired," Zoe continued.
"Emily's denying everything, but he has receipts. Literal receipts, Christina. And emails."
We watched as Elliot stormed out of the conference room, Emily trailing behind him, still hurling insults.
"You're just angry because I wouldn't date you myself!" she shouted.
"As if someone like me would ever be interested in a short, insecure man like you!"
"Emily, that's enough!" Our manager's voice cut through the chaos.
"My office. Now."
As Emily slunk away, Zoe and I exchanged glances.
"She's totally screwed," Zoe murmured.
"Taking money to set up dates with coworkers without their consent? That's like, multiple HR violations."
I shrugged, feeling conflicted.
"Elliot seems pretty petty, but I can't blame him for being upset if she really took his money."
By afternoon, the verdict was in: Emily was suspended pending a formal investigation, with reinstatement contingent on making things right with Elliot.
The company was taking his threats to expose the situation on social media seriously, especially with his connections to several influential style bloggers.
As I was preparing to leave for the day, I found Emily waiting outside my office door.
Zoe lingered nearby, pretending to organize fabric swatches while obviously eavesdropping.
"Christina," Emily's voice had lost all its earlier venom, now dripping with false sweetness.
"I need your help. Elliot likes you—he was relatively polite to you. Could you talk to him, convince him to drop this whole thing?"
Zoe snorted under her breath.
"Wow, quite the colleague you are. First setting up dates without consent, now asking for favors."
Emily shot her a venomous look before turning back to me with pleading eyes.
I adjusted my bag on my shoulder and met her gaze steadily.
"Emily, whatever happened between you and Elliot is your problem. Handle it yourself."
Her face hardened instantly.
"Fine. I should have known you wouldn't help."
She stormed off, muttering under her breath.
"What is wrong with her?" Zoe asked, abandoning all pretense of working.
"She's a grown woman acting like a spoiled teenager."
I watched Emily's retreating back and shook my head.
"That's exactly why Mr. Sinclair is teaching her a lesson in consequences."
Zoe nodded sagely.
"You're right. It's like they say—what goes around comes around."