Never Forgive Never Forget (Celeste and Philip) novel Chapter 87

Celeste was starting to feel drained from all the small talk. She set her empty glass down on a passing waiter's tray, making it clear she wasn't interested in another drink—or any more socializing.

With empty hands and a weary heart, she started scanning the room for a quiet corner to catch her breath.

That's when Jasper suddenly materialized in front of her, blocking her path. He held out a glass of red wine, his lips curling into a polite, practiced smile.

"My name's Jasper. Would you care to chat for a bit?" he asked, his tone smooth but insistent.

"I just need a break," Celeste replied, her voice low and even as she tried to keep the conversation civil.

She'd noticed before how Jasper's gaze lingered a little too long, leaving her uneasy. Now, with one hand shoved carelessly in his pocket, he stood in her way with an air of arrogance, even after she politely declined. When Celeste tried to step around him, he simply shifted, blocking her again.

Her patience wore thin, a frown creasing her brow. "There are plenty of beautiful women here tonight. Why are you intent on stopping me?"

"You remind me of someone I know," Jasper said, his eyes scanning her carefully.

Her figure was familiar, that much he could tell. The voice, though, wasn't quite right. He was still puzzling it out.

Celeste curled her fingers tighter, masking her discomfort with a breezy, almost indifferent smile. "What, your mother? I've heard rebellious boys often have a thing for women who remind them of their moms."

Jasper's expression cooled at her jab. "You're nothing like her."

Celeste didn't seem hostile, but the woman he was actually thinking of had a tongue sharp enough to wound. He hated being pegged as an overgrown child, and her pointed remark instantly doused any interest he had. Without another word, he turned and walked away.

Across the room, Beverly had been watching them intently. She couldn't recognize the masked woman as Celeste, but seeing Jasper approach her had stoked the fires of jealousy. She began whispering to those nearby, but everyone's answer was the same:

"I have no idea who she is. She didn't come in with a date, and she doesn't belong to any of the prominent families. God knows where she came from."

The single shout sent a ripple through the crowd.

"Isn't that Mr. Alfred's assistant?"

"He called her ‘Ma'am'… Wait, does that mean she's Mrs. Hopkins?"

"Beverly's really in trouble now—she just picked a fight with Mr. Alfred's wife!"

Beverly stood frozen, staring at the stunning woman behind the mask. Her voice trembled. "Celeste? How could you be— She always looks so plain at work…"

Celeste gave a small, composed smile. "There's nothing wrong with being understated at the office. But for an evening event, dressing up is simply good manners."

She waited as Mack approached and guided her toward the VIP section, pausing only to add, "You should consider yourself lucky you picked a fight with me tonight. If you go around snapping at the wrong women like a rabid dog, not even your family will be able to save you."