So when Noreen scrolled through her coworker’s social feed, she saw Colleague <b>A </bmenting under Colleague B’s post: “Now this is what I call a real team<b>–</b>building trip.”
“All those previous gatherings? Might as well have been cattle roundups.”
Colleague B couldn’t agree more. She chimed in, “Director Lowell really knows how to live it up! Great food, great drinks, and she’s not just gorgeous and kind–she’s from a top family and went to school overseas. She and Mr. Harcourt are the perfect match! Unlike some people, who haven’t seen the world and pick such tacky ces. I can’t even bring myself toin anymore–so embarrassingly provincial!”
Colleague A quickly replied, “Hey, have you had too much to drink? Did you remember to block ‘you–know–who’?”
By the time Noreen refreshed the feed, the post had vanished.
It was clear now: she was the “you–know–who” in question.
Post after post, Noreen saw different angles of Seth and Bianca together.
In one, Bianca was feeding Seth slices <i>of </i>fruit.
In another, Seth was offering Bianca a bite of his barbecue.
But by the second half of the night, the two of them had disappeared from the group entirely.
In one video, someone asked, “Where did Mr. Harcourt and Director Lowell go? Haven’t seen them in a while.”
“Come on, we’re all adults here. Do you really have to ask?” someone teased.
“I thought I saw them heading back to the hotel together…”
Laughter and yful banter/filled the rest of the clip–everyone seemed to be having the time of their lives.
Noreen put her phone down and refocused on revising her proposal.
She just wanted to make the n as concise and persuasive as possible, hoping it would win Rosalind a chance for a consultation.
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<b>Early </b><b>Monday </b><b>morning</b><b>, </b>after making sure <b>Rosalind </b><b>was </b><b>in </b><b>the </b>care of the nurse Noreen headed straight for the hospital’s front entrance.
She was determined not to miss a single opportunity to run into the expert medical
<b>team</b>.
But she waited from morning until afternoon, and still there was no sign of <b>them</b>. Anxiety gnawed at her.
Sophia messaged: Could shee back to the office? Seth was losing his temper.
Noreen didn’t reply.
Even if the Aurelion Group was copsing, she didn’t have time to care right now.
So she simply turned off her phone and kept waiting.
Back at the Aurelion Group, Sophia, still without a response, had no choice but to nervously enter Seth’s office.
Seth, already in a foul mood, looked up when he saw her. His expression darkened. “Where’s Noreen?”
Sophia’s voice trembled. “She hasn’te in yet. I texted her, but she hasn’t replied.” “You couldn’t just call her?” Seth’s tone was icy.
Sophia had never seen him this angry. Flustered, she hurriedly dialed Noreen’s
number.
But all she got was the dead sound of a phone switched off. Swallowing her fear, she reported, “Secretary Gilmore’s phone is off.”
“Impressive.” Seth’s sharp features grew even colder, his face stormy.
Before he could say more, Bianca breezed into the office. “Seth, I’m here to give you my report.”
She immediately sensed the tension and asked, “What happened? Is something wrong?”
“Noreen’s absent without leave,” Seth said tly.
Bianca raised an eyebrow. “Is Secretary Gilmore really this undisciplined now? That’s not good forpany management.”
Sophia, pale with nervés, tried to defend Noreen. “Secretary Gilmore must’ve been caught up in something urgent. Mr. Harcourt, you know how dedicated she
22:06
is–there must be a good reason.”
“If rules are only for when it’s convenient, what’s the point of having them?” Bianca said sweetly, ncing at Seth. “Seth, she’s your secretary. The way you handle this sets the tone for the wholepany. If you y favorites, people will talk.”
Seth’s voice was cold and decisive. “We’ll followpany policy. Dock her quarterly bonus. If she doesn’t show up tomorrow, treat it as resignation.”
Sophia felt a chill run straight to her heart.
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