Chapter 9

Lorraine had been torn all night, but in the end, she decided to go straight to Tristan.

This was about the company's bottom line. She didn't want things to get ugly and figured it was better to let Isabelle save face, at least in the office.

Back at work, the usual gossip buzzed in the background.

Lorraine, never one to care about this kind of chatter, casually reached for her phone and called Alexander. It rang for a while before he finally picked up.

"Can you check if Mr. Seymour's free today? I'd like to schedule a meeting."

"Just come up."

She could tell Alexander hadn't even thought twice before answering - pretty obvious he was sitting right next to the man.

As she stepped into the elevator, the doors slid shut behind her—and before she could even lift a finger, the button for the 30th floor lit up on its own. Upstairs, Alexander had already called the lift for her.

But Lorraine didn't head straight to the CEO's office. She pulled Alexander to the side instead.

"Be real with me - was he right there when I called?"

"Seriously, Lorraine, what's your brain made of? That quick thinking is scary!"

She sighed. So, Alexander didn't even bother reporting it and just had her come up. The only explanation? Tristan overheard and told him to do it directly.

Lorraine hated that. It made it seem like ever since they'd spent that night together, Tristan just started seeing her differently. Like some invisible red string was now tied tightly in his hand.

She knocked gently on the door, a bit on edge.

"Come in." His voice was low and steady.

Same black suit again - it was beginning to feel like he owned just the one.

"What's up?" he asked, putting down his pen and giving her his full attention.

Lorraine explained everything from start to finish.

Tristan didn't respond right away, just nodded slowly. "I'll take care of it."

"I want an apology. Face to face. Of course, without causing trouble for the company." Lorraine tried to keep things professional, but she wasn't above holding her ground when needed.

Tristan gave a soft hum and leaned back in his chair. "Whatever decision you make won't hurt the company. You sure you don't want to go public?"

"Prescott Logistics has ties with Nexue. Even a little noise might cause a ripple."

"You're worried about me?"

Lorraine was down to business until he hit her with that line - and just like that, her cheeks heated. "No."

Silence filled the room.

"She's a girl too. I'm sure she had reasons for what she did. Maybe don't push too hard."

"Whatever you say."

The way Tristan said it - it didn't sound like a boss. More like a man doting on his girlfriend.

Lorraine mentally kicked herself. She should've never come up.

A few minutes later, Alexander came back with Isabelle in tow. Lorraine had already moved to the couch.

Isabelle caught sight of Lorraine and hesitated. "Tristan, you wanted to see me?"

That sweet "Tristan" nearly gave Lorraine chills.

"What did you call me?"

Tristan hadn't looked up until now, but at those words, his eyes suddenly darkened, and he shot her a sharp glance.

Isabelle clearly thought using his name would get her some slack. Instead, it landed like a cold slap.

She quickly corrected herself. "Mr. Seymour."

Tristan clenched his jaw and focused back on his papers.

"Actually, she's the one who wanted to see you."

Isabelle had no choice but to turn to Lorraine, trying to hide her discomfort.

Lorraine smiled and gave a little wave. "Hey, Ms. Prescott."

She had to admire herself - keeping that fake smile looking so real under pressure? Nailed it.

"What do you want, Lorraine? You seriously had to drag Tristan into this? Couldn't deal with it privately?"

Her tone shifted - clearly still betting Lorraine didn't know the full story.

Tristan's face darkened the second he heard her call him "Tristan," but before he could get a word in, Lorraine had already spoken.

"I really didn't mean to interrupt your 'crush time,' but if your little drama messes with the rest of the design team, I doubt you'll enjoy the fallout." She pulled out her phone and showed the video to Isabelle.

Color drained from Isabelle's face. Her legs trembled, and she clenched her hands tight.

"Hmph, Tristan..." Tristan exhaled lightly, lips twitching as if suppressing a sigh, but didn't jump into the argument.

"You..." Isabelle blinked in disbelief. How did Lorraine find out so quickly? Just a day!

"Doing stuff like this - you're not worried about ruining your name as a designer? If Tristan hadn't held me back, you'd already be out of the design department by now." Lorraine's tone was steady, her eyes calm as she stared at her.

From his chair, Tristan narrowed his eyes, watching Lorraine on the couch - unbothered and composed.

"Apologize, Isabelle. Then get out," Tristan ordered.

"Tristan!" Isabelle whined, turning toward him like a pouty child.

"It's Mr. Seymour to you."

"But she gets to call you that, why can't I?"

"She doesn't get to, either." His voice sharpened a bit as he shot a glance at Lorraine.

Lorraine stayed quiet, lips pressed together.

Isabelle looked like she just swallowed a lemon - but with Tristan speaking so clearly, she had no choice but to bow her head and mumble an apology.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Cromwell. I shouldn't have lied about you. I won't do it again."

"Got it." Lorraine's mood instantly lightened. She finally let out a breath.

With a wave of his hand, Tristan motioned for them to leave. All that noise was starting to give him a headache.

Isabelle stormed off, furious.

"Hold on," Tristan suddenly called out, as if remembering something.

Raising his eyes, he asked, "That night when you left, did you run into... anyone else?"

Lorraine tensed up. So he did notice that night. And now, it almost seemed like he was more anxious about it than she was.

Isabelle looked over her shoulder with a frosty stare at Lorraine. "No."

Tristan gave a slight nod. "Alright, you can go. Close the door behind you. Lorraine, stay."

Isabelle shot Lorraine another death glare before leaving with a slam of the door.

Lorraine's heart skipped. "President Seymour, is there something else?"

"Come here."

Obediently, she walked over to stand in front of his desk.

Tristan leaned back in his swivel chair like he ruled the place - arms rested casually on the armrests.

"So you figured I wouldn't say anything, huh?"

"Sorry, I'm not quite following you," Lorraine replied, feigning confusion.

She knew Tristan wasn't the type to miss things. She just wanted to see how he'd react. See if all that talk about "wanting her to be Mrs. Seymour" meant anything - or if he just felt guilty after that night.

"Oh, now it's back to 'President Seymour'? A minute ago you were all over that 'Tristan' thing. Sounded pretty natural to me."

Tristan stared at her, amused but trying not to show it. He looked like he was trying hard to stay mad but failing terribly.

"My bad. Won't happen again." Lorraine swallowed her embarrassment, her eyes flicking around before landing on the collar of his shirt. Which immediately reminded her of the one she'd ripped the night before.

Tristan followed her gaze and glanced down at his shirt. "What, you trying to say something?"

Lorraine jumped a little and shook her head.

His interest visibly piqued. Leaning back even more, he gave her a lazy look.

"What's this? Can't get enough of me?" Tristan asked, clearly teasing.

"N - no! That's not it..." Her cheeks turned red. "If there's nothing else, I'll be going now."

Before he could say a word, Lorraine turned and bolted out the door.

Tristan chuckled under his breath. "Interesting."