Chapter 67
Charisse had just reached the meeting room door when she noticed Logan, Elliot's assistant, walking over from down the corridor.
He entered before her and handed Elliot a phone, lowering his voice. "Sir, Miss Isabella is calling."
Ah, Isabella—that was Elliot's fiancée. The reminder felt oddly sharp.
Charisse saw Elliot end the call, casually tapping the screen a few times before placing the phone facedown on the table.
Probably texting her back. Something like, "In a meeting, will call later"? She imagined the words without meaning to.
Then the phone buzzed again. Elliot glanced at it and, barely noticeably, smiled.
It was subtle—barely a tug of the lips—but clear enough to register. Charisse felt a strange twinge. Whatever Isabella had sent clearly made him happy.
Charisse knew it wasn't her place to wonder—but her mind had already gone off the rails. There was no reining it in now.
Elliot must've caught her staring. He turned slightly and locked eyes with her.
Busted. She quickly sh

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