No More Waiting, She Chooses Love
Chapter 292

"Yeah, that's a big love bite! You can bet the girl's got some killer strength to deal with Mr. Collins."

"Or maybe Mr. Collins has the magic touch, keeping the girl excited..."

I was at a loss for words.

These girls seemed pretty clued in, knowing more than a bit about the ways.

"You've got quite the eye for detail," I chuckled awkwardly.

"Mr. Collins wanted us to notice, walking around with his shirt half-open. As if we could look away even if we tried," one of the girls added, elbowing her friend, "Right?"

"Exactly. It wasn't just us. Every girl in the office, even the cleaning ladies, noticed it too."

I didn't know what to say in response.

"Mr. Collins is usually reserved and barely leaves his office. Today was weird like he was parading around on purpose."

"Do you think he did it to show us?"

"Could be... Maybe he's..." the girl pondered.

Getting the implication, her friend added, "Not maybe. He's telling us to back off."

Hearing that, I couldn't help but admire how clever they were.

And I had to admit Ernest was playing a clever, if somewhat shameless, game by cutting off his admirers. But it left me feeling a bit sour. When a man loved you, it showed. He made sure you had nothing to worry about.

"Mr. Collins is such a good man. The more he does this, the more I'm drawn to him."

"It's so loving."

The girls lost themselves in the admiration for Ernest, and I smiled softly, feeling a sweet pang in my heart.

I drove to the location Allen had sent me and saw a grand opening banner waving in the breeze.

But getting there was one thing. Meeting Lord was another challenge altogether. I was there and wasn't about to back down over a minor hiccup.

I didn't know much about Crestpoint Investments, but their owner had to be someone of note to draw Lord out of his retreat to come to celebrate. And if this person was tight with Lord, they probably also had connections to Herschel.

Even though I wasn't thrilled about using the Wagner family name to get ahead, sometimes, I just didn't have another choice.

I approached the reception, dropped Herschel's name, and they let me through after a quick check.

Getting in wasn't my goal, but meeting Lord was.

"I'm here to see Mr. Clark. Which room is he in?" I asked bluntly.

The receptionist gave me a look, but I met her gaze with a calm confidence that prompted her to tell the room number after a few seconds.

I didn't even say thank you but nodded and walked away. It was not always necessary to express gratitude. Understanding social cues was the point. I wasn't looking to elevate or demean anyone. It was about knowing how to act at the moment.

I entered the venue, scanning the crowd for guests but knowing Lord wouldn't be there. His stature warranted a more private setting, so I asked for his room number in the first place.

I grabbed a waiter, asking him to lead me to Lord's room.

I took a deep breath and knocked on the door. It swung open to reveal a towering figure who eyed me warily and asked, "Who are you looking for?"

With effortless poise, I replied, "I'm here to see Mr. Lord Clark."

Pausing, I added, "I'm a relative of Mr. Herschel Wagner."

At my words, a robust voice from inside called out, "Let her in."

My heart skipped a beat. Lord had agreed to see me.