The meeting dragged on, and though Ian did his best to stay focused on the project updates, the faint sound of his suppressed coughs occasionally broke the silence.
Eleanor sat with her head down, jotting down key points, when Ian suddenly addressed her, his voice hoarse. “Eleanor, do you have any suggestions regarding the safety testing protocol?”
Caught off guard, Eleanor looked up, her gaze calm and unwavering. “The company could implement a three-tier security system. The details are on page fifteen of the report.”
Ian frowned and flipped directly to the page she mentioned, scanning through the details.
The rest of the meeting proceeded without incident. Once it wrapped up, people began to file out. Byron lingered, glancing at Ian with concern. “Mr. Goodwin, are you coming down with something?”
“Got caught in the rain,” Ian replied.
“Did you see a doctor?”
“I will, in a bit.”
Byron was momentarily taken aback. Mr. Goodwin’s work ethic was truly admirable—attending the meeting while sick, and he hadn’t even stopped by the hospital yet.
“Eleanor, do you have a moment? Could you take Mr. Goodwin to the hospital?” Byron asked, turning to her with hopeful eyes.
Eleanor paused in the midst of gathering her things. She looked up and declined crisply, “I’m busy.”
She offered no further explanation.
An awkward silence settled over the room. Byron cleared his throat, clearly embarrassed. “Ah, I see. Well, I’ll take Mr. Goodwin, then.”
Ian’s expression visibly darkened. He stood up, his tone clipped. “Don’t trouble yourself. I’ll go on my own.”
“Relax. Eleanor knows her place,” Vanessa replied, as nonchalant as ever.
Faye let the subject drop. With Vanessa’s recent award, her reputation in the piano world had soared, eclipsing even some top celebrities. Her name was everywhere, from endorsements to entertainment news.
Meanwhile, in Eleanor’s office, Gwenda came by to drop off some files. She couldn’t help but study Eleanor’s expression. Seeing her typing away at her computer, it was clear work hadn’t been disrupted in the slightest.
“Eleanor, aren’t you even a little worried about Mr. Goodwin?” Gwenda asked, curiosity getting the better of her.
Eleanor replied coolly, “First of all, he’s an adult. And second, why should I be worried about him?”
Gwenda blinked, then decided Eleanor had a point. “Mr. Goodwin really is a workaholic, though. He’s sick, but still insisted on coming to the meeting.”

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