"Of course," Chris said, offering his wrist to Irene.
June shrugged and did the same.
Irene sprayed the perfume on the wrists of both Chris and June. Only two spritzers, nothing more.
The fine droplets evaporated quickly. When Chris and June raised their wrist to inhale the fragrance, they were stunned by how well the characteristically rich lavender aroma mixed with the delicious, tart smell of fresh lemon slices. They complemented each other's strengths and weaknesses and pushed forward with an excellent scent.
"Hmmm," Chris hummed in delight. "And you said that this was your own creation?"
"Yes," Irene answered confidently.
That was not exactly a lie. She did blend the perfume notes in her own house.
"It's very good," June remarked. Her eyes were darting around Irene's form rapidly, just like a predator that was pondering which part of Irene's body was more vulnerable to a lethal attack.
Irene could almost guess what she was about to say next.
June straightened her back and gave Irene a business-like smile.
"Miss, you are both beautiful and talented. May I inquire about possible cooperation between your amazing self and our esteemed company?"
Irene applauded herself for not spitting at June's face on the spot.
"Why, of course, it would be my honor," Irene smiled sweetly.
She could almost see the greedy twinkles pass across June's beady eyes. She must have thought that she had found a second Amalia Jones. Irene wondered what face June would make if she realized that the dead Amalia Jones was standing before her, in flesh and blood.
Before they continued talking about whatever cooperation that June had in mind, a soft tinkling sound drew everyone's attention. All pairs of eyes were directed at the butler who tapped a silver spoon against a wine glass that he was holding.
"Attention, everyone! Mr. Henderson Sr. is going to give a speech!" the butler announced.
A round of applause was given. It quickly died out when Grandpa Henderson took the stage.
Despite his age, the elder man was still very sharp. Unlike the younger generations, the man was not very sociable.
Years of hard work, shedding sweat and blood alike had turned the man into a grumpy old man who cared more about contributions than these flashy dinner parties with likewise flashy guests.
"Good evening," he said with a gruff voice. "Welcome to my humble abode. Primavera is lucky enough to have all of you -- hard-working members of the company, business partners, friends, and family members -- to thank for its success.
I hope that tonight too will give you all an opportunity to relax. Please enjoy the food and drinks, on the house, no need to worry."
The guests laughed in unison at the joke. The servants opened the door to the elegant dining hall. Chris turned to look at Irene, intent on asking her to join him and his wife at his table, but the beautiful woman was nowhere to see.
"Huh? Where did she go?" he asked in confusion.
June looked around but she too could not catch Irene's silhouette anywhere.
"Maybe she went ahead of us," she suggested.
Chris pulled his lips into a thin line.
How rude.
She could have said something instead of dissipating into thin air like a ghost.
Unbeknownst to the couple, Irene Gallagher was partly hidden behind the lush dark red curtain near the window.
After she achieved her goal, why would she bother staying near the two toxic human beings? The only reason why she did not leave the premise right away was her burning desire to see the result of her little scheme tonight.
"Miss, a glass of wine perhaps?"
Irene looked up and stared into a pair of stunning blue eyes. The dark brown locks of his hair were meticulously combed into a slicked-back hairdo, pooling at the base of his neck.
His lips were pulled into a charming smile.
Irene had her fair share of seeing handsome men, especially during her tenure in Primavera, but this man came from a different class altogether.
"Sure, thank you."
Irene took a sip from the glass, her eyes unhurriedly swept around the man's broad shoulders and athletic form.
After offering her the glass of wine, he lingered by her side. Sipping on his glass of wine, he looked as handsome from the side.
Irene wondered who he was. A business partner? A CEO? Some uncontested heir from some rich family that was affiliated with the Henderson family?
She did not want to ask because she was also not interested in introducing herself. They were just wine-drinking buddies who casually met during a party.
It was unnecessary to get to know each other on a deeper level.
One by one, guests dispersed, leaving just the two of them outside.
The man offered his arm to Irene and spoke in a deep, masculine voice. "Shall we?"
Lacking a good excuse to decline, Irene hooked her arm around the handsome stranger's and followed his lead into the dining hall.
Irene had expected to sit somewhere inconspicuous. Unexpectedly, the stranger took her to sit at the largest table in the dining hall.
"..."
There sat Mr. Henderson Sr., Chris Henderson, June Henderson, and the other Henderson family members.
The handsome man casually took a seat next to Grandpa Henderson, and no one told him to leave. As his companion, Irene was forced to sit next to him, two seats away from the owner of Primavera!
"Happy Birthday, Father," the man spoke eloquently.
What did he just say?
Father?
Irene's jaw almost dropped to the ground.
The elder man scoffed, but he could not hide the smile in his eyes.
"Have you realized that your father is old and might not have eternal life to wait for you to come home? Damian, you are really inconsiderate!"
Irene's heart almost stopped on spot.
Damian?
Damian Henderson?
Did she just walk into the dining hall, arm-in-arm, with Chris' biggest rival? Her eyes unwittingly wandered to Chris, whose face was ashen.