Chapter 32

Autumn thought for a moment, unsure how to describe it. “He’s just… really handsome,”

Rachel groomed. “That’s way too vague!”

The next second, she pulled up a photo of the current most handsome actor in the entertainment industry and zoomed in right in front of Autumn’s face.

“Compare them. Who’s hotter?” Rachel emphasized. “This guy has 70 million followers on Twitter and tons of fangirls. I honestly can’t find anyone better-looking than him. Just say it—him, or Dawson?”

The man in the photo had flawless features, expressive eyes, and a refined demeanor. He really was stunning.

Autumn answered honestly. “Dawson’s more handsome.”

Rachel gasped. “Oh my god. That means I’ll be working every day with a man who’s hotter than a movie star. Don’t tell me that’s not heaven!”

If she knew how impossible Dawson was to deal with, she definitely wouldn’t be saying that.

But it was already work hours, and Dawson still hadn’t shown up.

Autumn was called into the office by the executive secretary.

Della said, “There’s a charity gala this Saturday. Mr. Faulkner will be attending. You’ll go with him.”

She pointed at a file on the desk. “This is the guest list. You’ll be by Mr. Faulkner’s side. If anyone comes over to network, you need to provide their information to them immediately. This will be Mr. Faulkner’s first appearance in high society. There cannot be a single mistake. Don’t let him make a fool of himself. Understand?”

Yesterday’s event had been limited to the tech circle. Dawson hadn’t made a public appearance as Faulkner Group’s president and had only attended as Robin’s companion. Only people who knew him personally had come up to speak. That was why the crowd had stayed under twenty or so.

This gala, however, would be the formal public reveal of his identity. A large turnout was expected. Experienced businessmen, rising elites, celebrities, veteran artists—the guest list was diverse.

Autumn asked, “Ms. Coffrey, for such an important occasion, why aren’t you going?”

Della frowned. “Don’t ask so many questions. It’s my decision. I said you’re going, so you’re going.”

Autumn knew Della was decisive and commanding. Her arrangements were always meticulous. That was how she’d secured her position in the upper ranks of Faulkner Group.

“Understood.”

Della watched as Autumn walked away.

Autumn was easily the most capable in the department, but every time there was a chance at promotion, she would pull back. She had been working for nearly three years and hadn’t even taken on a team lead position.

Della wanted to give her more opportunities to show her face in front of Dawson.

Dawson didn’t show up at the office the entire day.

Rachel, itching with anticipation, was already looking forward to tomorrow. Her obsession was stronger than a diehard fangirl.

Before leaving, she sheepishly told her coworkers, “Autumn and the rest of you, just don’t say anything to my husband about me fangirling. He’ll…”

Rachel’s husband was famous around the secretary’s office. If she ever wanted a latte, he’d bring one for everyone. And Rachel’s cup always came with…

He was thoughtful with his wife, but considerate toward her colleagues too—an absolute pro at earning goodwill. Everyone had already been won over. They cooperated without hesitation.

After work, Autumn didn’t head straight home. Instead, she drove for half an hour to Serenity Nursing Home.

The facility was more like a retirement community, equipped with professional doctors, nutritionists, and highly trained nurses.

Autumn’s grandmother, Elona Virelle, suffered from Alzheimer’s and needed 24-hour care. Talking with peers when lucid was better for her mental and physical well-being than staying home alone.

Autumn visited Elena at the beginning of every month.

Just as she reached her car, she unexpectedly ran into her aunt, Christine.

Christine was on a video call, the sound on speaker.

“I missed your birthday a few days ago. I was busy and didn’t get a chance to send a gift. I just bought you a diamond Patek Philippe. It’s on your vanity…”

–Emilia’s gruff voice came through. “Thank you, Ms. Green.”

Christine’s tone was indulgent. “You’ve got that gala this week, right? I contacted a top international designer. He’s got several custom pieces that haven’t been worn by any celebrities. Pick the one you like, and I’ll have him send it over for you to try.”

Emilia asked, “Is it on loan?”

Christine replied, “Loan? How tacky. Emilia, whichever one you like, I will buy it for you.”