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A month later, the Holloway-Davenport partnership was officially announced. The total contract value more than covered everything lost in the Ashford split.
The engagement announcement followed. The share price recovered.
Mum called from France to report that Dad was so pleased he'd eaten two full slices of baguette at dinner despite his dental work.
And somewhere along the way, Felix stopped mentioning Lily Pemberton's forum.
I clicked through my follows out of mild curiosity. The account had been deleted.
Felix, feeding me pieces of bread across the desk, said: "Oh — I forgot to tell you. Garrett moved on. Some minor actress, eighteen followers and a dream. Lily had no status left and apparently nothing to offer, so she was out within a month."
"Her CV turned up at one of my smaller subsidiaries, by the way. Biggest listed experience: Holloway Group — Administration. That was her original entry-level role. Before she was ever made company secretary."
"She almost got two interviews on the Holloway name alone. Lucky someone recognised her."
I shook my head. If Lily had quietly done her job at Holloway Group, she would be somewhere she deserved by now, rather than sending her CV to companies smaller than the one she'd left.
That moment in my office, in that gown, full of triumph — it was probably the last time anyone who mattered would take her seriously.
Meanwhile, Lord Ashford died. The estate was read: ninety percent of assets to the eldest son. Garrett packed his bags and vacated the family home.
The press found him interesting after that. Every time he showed his face, cameras followed.
"Mr Ashford — thoughts on the new Holloway-Davenport alliance?"
Garrett's face on camera was the face of a man who had used up all his composure a long time ago.
"Same as always. She used the Ashfords and now she's using the Davenports. She's no prize. She just found a bigger stepping stone and decided she was done with me. What exactly are her qualifications to pass judgement on who I see?"
That clip went extremely viral.
At the press event the following day, Felix draped an arm around my shoulders and smiled at the cameras.
"We should mention — Jenna and I first met when she rescued my dog during a road trip through Mexico. That's where it all began, for us."
I smiled. I knew what he was doing.
I didn't need the clarification. The things people accuse you of are usually the things they've done themselves.
Garrett's next trending story, published the same afternoon: caught leaving a private nightclub by his mother, who had been tipped off, with three women none of his friends could name. She dragged him out by the ear.
The public, which tends to root for whoever is currently winning, had almost entirely shifted. The few who still doubted me were invisible. What remained was a large number of people mocking Garrett and a somewhat embarrassing number of people praising me.
I found it equally irrelevant in both directions.
I was at my desk in the Holloway Group executive office — my executive office — working late, the city lights spread below me.
Felix had taken over Lily's old workstation. He looked up with the expression of someone manufacturing jealousy.
"Word is Holloway's new company secretary starts tomorrow. Male or female?"
I smiled.
"Not someone who made a mistake and went home to write a revenge fantasy about it for twelve months. I have a life now. I don't cheat, and I don't have the patience to indulge someone else's delusions."
We looked at each other across the desk.
Both of us smiling.