Married to my Ex-wife's boss

Chapter Sixteen

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Sandra laughed it off. The laughter grating her chest like a wicked mucus-filled cough, shaking her jaws as she struggled to keep them close despite the news.

She didn't really know what she was laughing at. Maybe it was the short body hug dress her secretary was putting on that made her fall into that painful laughter.

Things were really happening in the queerest of ways.

Was this some sort of a game? She took the vacant position close to her, or rather, the President of the city's chamber of commerce's trusted private secretary.

The mere description gave her a splitting headache. What was all this foul play for? What the heck was happening?

Fiona gave her a nod, barely taking time to truly see her. One would think that it hadn't been her who had nearly murdered Sandra with her stares.

“Have we met before?” Roseline's father stretched out his hands to hers, cutting her mental war.

Then it dawned on her. She had acknowledged no one too. And here she was analysing Fiona's behavior.

In her dazed state, she had simply just taken a seat and overlooked every other person.

“Oh, sorry, sir. We haven't met before,” she flushed, standing up to take his palms and praying that she had not messed things already.

She flushed again as she sat, angry with herself for not having enough self-control to handle the situation.

How could she let her guards down? Yes, things might have happened but if didn't have to sour her mood at once.

Her mood slipped back into place.

“No, you certainly haven't met before,” Fiona, the double-edged secretary spoke up, her voice bright and crystal clear while demonstrating wildly.

Sandra watched her with resentment in her throat; her neck stiff and swallowing all the anger face was to display.

How could Fiona act so natural? How could she speak like she owned the room and had everyone under control and under the giant umbrella of respect?

She slightly wrinkled her forehead in with the thought. Had Fiona always been like this? Had she always known how to camouflage and please this way?

She tried to remember. But the trauma she had received was enough to stop her Her head ached confusing and tiredness.

She couldn't bear to recall anything concerning Fiona as that'll be the same as thinking about David.

She had successfully avoided much thougt about him for more than five hours. She was making progress.

She congratulated herself on that feat. Within three months, he'll just be a passing breeze

Her heart warmed a little with the thought.

“I made certain of that.” Fiona brought her back to business, making eye contact with Roseline.

She caught the mockery on their face in alarm. Were they acquaintance, close enough to share mock glances?

“What do you mean?” She looked from one person to the other, her stomach knotted as she expected the worst.

But Fiona did not hear or pretended not to hear. For she sat quietly; as quietly as the president who still had his type of smile.

She couldn't take it much longer. If Fiona didn’t act, she would.

“Fiona, I repeat,” she clenched her teeth. “What do you mean by that?” Her temper rose; she fought to control it by tightening her fist but the look on Fiona's face ws getting worse and worse.

She looked around, searching for a way that patience and self-control will find their way to her.

She didn't want to disrespect the president. But she also needed answers. She needed to understand what Fiona meant.

“Don't be hard on her, dear,” Roseline pursed her lips to seal her laughter. Her cheeks glowed with enjoyment as she skillfully trapped part of the laughter in.

“She just did what she was told to do. She was obeying orders,” she explained, occasionally folding her lips to stop a burst.

Sandra's world seemed to stop. She needed to put two and two together. What was going on?

What did she really mean? She wondered yet again, feeling sick in the stomach

Was Fiona somehow connected to the case or something? Or was this a game?

She shut her eyes to think but no clear thought popping forward.

Her memories were in a mess. She wasn't sure it could carry scrutiny.

Had Fiona been playing her all along? Her chest tightened as she let the thought simmer in her head.

Did that mean that… She stopped herself from going too far. Things weren't as rosy after all.

She swallowed hard, chest rising as she prepared sharp words to be sent abroad. But those eyes watching her were intimidating.

The peering-through-the-glass looked were humbling.

Not to her, but to her dream career. Her lips had to be shut for her to keep the deal.

“And who is this director who gives her extra orders?”

Fiona cleared her throat. “Let's all remember what we're here for,” she shifted uncomfortably, her earlier confidence seeming to have deflated at once.

“The deal. Let's share some changes that the dealership will accord both—”

“Fiona. You're not one of those signing the deal. Are you?” Sandra asked them quickly bit her tongue to stop more from leaving her lips.

She couldn't recall the last time she had felt this useless and shitty. She felt like a blind, stupid stranger.

How could they talk round her as if she was invisible? And Fiona, having the guts to switch the topic.

The world must really have been coming to an end. Fiona, having enough boldness with three public figures in the room, to switch the topic at once?

She shook her head. Something, in fact, many things were fishy.

“There's no need to make a fire,” Roseline chuckled, looking at her like she was a kid who just embarrassingly pooped her pants.

“Fiona works for me. I give her all the orders,” she paused briefly to decipher the expression on Sandra's face.

“And yes, she's to also sign the deal. She'll manage the merger in my place”.