Chapter 220 Earning My Husband's Money isn't Easy
Sebastian took a pair of flat shoes out of the shoebox, removed the slightly heeled shoes from Isabella’s feet, and replaced them with the flats.
“You said it yourself, a woman won't mind her beloved flitting before her eyes,” Sebastian looked up.
Their gazes met, and Isabella's earlobes instantly turned red.
She could feel it, even her breathing was becoming shaky.
This wasn't right; she couldn't continue to fall for him. This was wrong.
“Sebastian, do you even know what you're saying?” Isabella clenched her hands tightly, trying to remain calm, striving not to be swayed by his influence.
Brittany was right; men often want the best of both worlds, enjoying what they have while longing for what they don't. She felt like she was finger food, something he could easily devour whenever he wanted.
Even if Sebastian wouldn't stay with her forever, in his selfishness, he still wanted her to admit she loved him, just to affirm his own charm.
"Right now, it doesn't seem appropriate for us to discuss feelings... uh..." She had barely started speaking when a finger was pressed against her lips.
Then, Sebastian stood up and returned to his desk, pointing at several documents, "These are the multimillion-dollar projects I've selected for you to manage."
"Are you serious?" Isabella's attention scattered, and she forgot everything else, "Do you really want me to take charge?"
She was about to decline but then thought better of it. Wasn't she at the company to improve her skills?
"Do you mean I can continue working?" Isabella asked, puzzled.
"Do you think I can't protect you?" Sebastian said, "If you don’t understand something, come find me."
He glanced at his wristwatch, "I have a meeting soon. Get familiar with these projects first."
"Oh, okay." Isabella nodded repeatedly like a pecking chicken, "Sure, I'll start right away."
Sebastian left the room, and Isabella's hand paused, no longer flipping through the files. Had Sebastian just cut her off?
No, wait—Sebastian had touched her ankle, and then her lips?
Wasn’t he supposed to have a germ phobia?!
Isabella dashed out toward the restroom, and upon pushing the door open, she stumbled into a familiar embrace.
"Clumsy, what's the hurry?" Sebastian's large hand steadied her at the waist as his eyebrows knitted together, "You're a mother now. Stop being so careless."
Rubbing her sore nose, Isabella gritted her teeth, "It's your fault, all because..."
The rest of her reproach got lodged in her throat as she met Sebastian's dark eyes.
All she could do was vigorously rub her own mouth, "Weren’t you headed to a meeting... Oh..."
Sebastian lifted her chin and kissed her.
Their eyes locked, and their lips pressed tightly together. Sebastian's face loomed closer, magnifying before her.
Isabella's eyes widened as she distinctly felt her and Sebastian's eyelashes clashing.
This caught her completely off guard. The passion of their kiss only grew more intense as Sebastian traced the contours of her lips.
After a lingering kiss, Sebastian released the stunned Isabella.
He pursed his lips, seemingly savoring the moment.
Then, he pulled up the corners of his mouth and said in a hoarse voice, "Clean now."
Isabella was left breathless. Her mind went blank as she stared at Sebastian's retreating figure; she was unable to come back to her senses for a long time.
Why did she feel like Sebastian had done it on purpose?
It wasn't until a WhatsApp notification sounded that she dazedly took out her phone.
[My hands are very clean; what are you thinking about?]
Isabella was speechless.
He clearly did it on purpose. From the moment they met to that kiss just now, it was all intentional.
He usually never came to the employee restroom, but today, he came knowing exactly what was on her mind, timing his appearance perfectly.
Since last night, he had toyed with her too many times.
Isabella walked into the restroom and leaned on the sink with both hands.
She stared at her flushed reflection in the mirror and tears welled up instantly in her glistening eyes.
He was sure he didn’t love her yet insisted on playing with her emotions, and she simply couldn’t refuse.
Her mind said no, but her body couldn’t resist.
Isabella dared not cry; she was afraid of being seen and worried it might affect her child.
With reddened eyes and her head tilted back, she struggled to force the tears back.
Now, she understood Brittany’s pain.
Brittany...
Isabella wondered how Brittany was doing, and whether she had come to the office.
Brittany had a strong sense of pride and being splashed with juice by Nicole in front of everyone must have been a devastating blow to her.
The more she thought about it, the more worried Isabella became.
She dialed Brittany's number but hung up before the call went through. If she were in Brittany’s shoes, having experienced what happened yesterday, she would definitely not appreciate anyone bringing it up again, even under the guise of concern—it would be like twisting a knife in her heart.
Isabella silently put away her phone.
"Did you hear about the big scene at the coffee shop downstairs yesterday?" Groups of employees were whispering behind her.
Isabella intended to leave but stopped when something caught her ear.
"Who hasn't heard? With so many people there, it couldn’t be kept secret," said one woman. "Who would've thought, huh? You can't judge a book by its cover. Miss. Everly seems so upright on the surface, but secretly she turns out to be someone's mistress."
Another chimed in, "With Mr. Sinclair’s charm, who wouldn't falter? But if you ask me, Brittany is playing the victim while trying to keep her reputation intact. Why break up with Mr. Sinclair if this is the outcome? No man is faithful; Brittany is actually... quite fake and petty."
Someone else added, "That's just her skill; she’s keeping her composure. Look, didn't she still come to work today?"
A surge of anger welled up in Isabella that she couldn’t suppress.
What nonsense! How could this be Brittany’s fault?
The cheating scoundrel wasn’t to blame, but the persecuted innocent woman became the perpetrator?
"During working hours, you still find time for idle gossip. It seems like Sebastian's money is really easy to earn," a cool female voice rose in the restroom, the tone ascending as if it were devoid of any temper.
The group of women who had been wagging their tongues froze upon noticing Isabella, then exchanged surreptitious glances and gestures.
"Isabella, you're here too."
Isabella knew that this group of women probably looked down on her as well. But what of it?
Borrowing authority from someone else was enough for now.
"Earning my husband's money isn't easy," Isabella leaned against the sink without needing to look back, staring at those women in the mirror, "I've taken note of your employee numbers. If I catch you babbling nonsense and not focusing on work again, I, as the little secretary, might have to report this."
Brittany had said many times that she only had one friend.
Isabella didn't want to attract more animosity towards Brittany; she would let others dislike her instead.
She rarely liked to use the title of Mrs. Lawrence at the company, unless absolutely necessary.
And often, a sudden cold expression from someone usually so amiable could be the most frightening.
So, her act indeed scared a few of the women.
"Mrs. Lawrence, we were wrong. Rest assured, we definitely... we will not do it again."
"Oh." Isabella dried her hands and left the restroom.
The remaining women then stuck out their tongues and raised their eyebrows at each other.
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