Page 32 of Sexted By a Stranger
This was my daily ritual to confirm personally, and a feeling of contentment spread through my chest.
Just then, as if sensing something, she looked up in my direction. Through glass and distance, she couldn't see me, but I could clearly see that warm smile in her eyes.
A simple gesture that sent warmth flooding through my chest.
The internal phone rang. It was Harrington. "Mr. Bellomo, the auditorium is ready. Ms. Winston arrives in two hours."
Ten in the morning.
The auditorium was already filled with Design's core members, the air buzzing with curious anticipation. Sheila waited beside my seat. Seeing me, all gazes focused, then nodded in acknowledgment. I walked straight to the head position. Once everyone was seated, I nodded slightly to begin the meeting.
"Everyone," Harrington's voice was low and powerful. "Today, we announce a milestone event for our Design department. We've invited a legend in jewelry design—Ms. Isabella Winston—as guest honorary designer for our new quarter's haute couture collection."
The auditorium doors opened ceremoniously as Isabella entered. The room erupted in enthusiastic applause.
But I only saw Sheila.
She held her breath, amber eyes suddenly brightening, lips slightly parted, hands unconsciously clenching.
I savored her look of surprise. This was what I wanted.
"Ms. Winston," Harrington looked more solemn than usual. "This is our design team."
"Pleased to meet everyone." Isabella's voice was gentle. "I look forward to working with you all to create truly stunning pieces."
The meeting proceeded smoothly. Sheila listened intently throughout, occasionally noting key points in her notebook. That focused, eager expression made my heart soft.
After the meeting, I stood in the corridor waiting for Sheila, her smile so brilliant.
She finally reached me. I leaned down slightly, close to her ear, catching the faint fragrance in her hair.
"Enjoying your surprise, Miss Assistant?"
Her ear tips instantly burned transparent, but she nodded vigorously, voice light as ice clinking in a glass. "Love it. Feels like a dream."
I lightly stroked her burning cheek with my fingertip, murmuring, "Then go on. She's a busy woman - don't keep her waiting."
"Got it!" she answered brightly, then quickly caught up with Isabella.
After she left, my phone rang.
"Vivian?"
"Luca." Her signature cheerful lilt exploded through the receiver. "Long time no see. Heard you want concert tickets? Madison Square Garden the day after tomorrow?"
"Front row, two tickets." I leaned against the floor-to-ceiling window, gaze falling on that half-open door on the distant nineteenth floor. "Someone will like them."
"Must be a very special fan to make you call personally." She laughed like dancing notes. "I'll have my assistant deliver the tickets directly, plus a limited edition signed album—I'll package it myself."
"Thanks."
"Don't mention it." Vivian drew out the words, full of teasing. "Someone you care about so much—I'd really like to meet them."
"Boss," just as I hung up, Lennox's voice came from behind. "Miss Veronica's birthday invite came in. She's... pretty insistent you show up this year."
"Pass. From now on, handle all those social things yourself."
"All of them?" Lennox raised an eyebrow rarely. "Business dinner —"
